Dead pigs, the Super Bowl, & freedom

One of the saddest things to me when we were growing up was whenever there was a new herd of pigs born on our little farm in southern Missouri, you would occasionally find one or two of the baby piglets who had been scared by something and ran into the corner of a building or into a loading chute and suffocated themselves in their attempt to get away from whatever had scared them.

It made zero sense to me. It made me sad to see such fragile life snuffed out so easily. My grandpa would just bend over, grab them by the hind feet, and throw them on to a burn pile. It was just part of the circle of life that we were part of.

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The thought of being herded into a place that I would not have chosen otherwise is a disturbing thought.

But it’s the kind of thing that happens pretty constantly. 

I think we see it constantly on the television, we hear it on the radio, and we see it all through social media. 

Over the last several years, the margins of what is considered to be normal have been pushed farther to the right and to the left. 

People are baited into positions, defense postures, and even into attack mode by people who are skilled at music, visuals, and the turn of a phrase.

It’s almost as if you are not allowed to not have an opinion or thought about some topic. 

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A couple of nights ago, there was a fairly large sports event with an entertainment feature in the middle of it. An alternative entertainment feature was produced and broadcast at the same time by a different people. 

From the little bit of social media and news I happened to pass that day, it seemed as if everyone was being whipped up into needing to have an opinion one way or the other. 

Neither event - the genres, the personalities, the presentation, etc. - were of any appeal to me in any way whatsoever.

There was a degree to which I felt pressure to try to find something positive about either event. 

I watched a little bit of both, just to see what the hubbub was about, and then I went to bed.  Unimpressed.  I felt like I was watching Geraldo Rivera opening Al Capone’s vault again.

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If you liked one or the other or both, good for you.  

I didn’t care for the little bit I saw of either.  

And hear this clearly - I didn’t hate one or the other, it just wasn’t for me.

And I’m not mad at you if you liked it. 

That should be a position that people can have without being labeled or categorized along with other characteristics.

I am fairly certain I listen to some things that a lot of people would turn their nose up at. And I am 100% fine with that.

I hope that our culture doesn’t get to the point where you are not able to say that you don’t like something simply because you don’t like something. 

It doesn’t have to be a moral statement. It doesn’t have to be a philosophical agreement. It doesn’t have to be you versus me. 

I know that I cannot be the only person who looks at the dynamic that is unfolding in our country, just like it has many times before, and shakes their head in disbelief.

Remember that everything is monetized so people will say just about anything to bait you so they get paid.

That post on social media where “that idiot” says something that is so off base that you just have to pile on and set them straight about?  They did that on purpose because the more outraged people that click on it, they get a few more cents, and if they get a lot of people doing that, it can be some nice cash for them.

We are herded around by people who are benefiting from your rage, your disbelief, your sense of justice, your fashion sense, your fascination with the morbid, the obscene, your desire to be included, your fear of missing out, etc.

Just be aware of that.

Be okay with regular people who are trying to make it through the day without joining your revolution, your cause, or your whatever.

Don’t be herded around.