Sometimes I think that what bugs me the most about our PC, feminized, pussified, Ritalin-addled schools is that they make indifference impossible. Everything is either ZOMG the greatest thing in the universe or Worst. Episode. Ever. It’s like we have a society-wide case of Borderline Personality Disorder.
That’s a logical consequence of the Left’s worldview: One must not have Unapproved Opinions, and the easiest way to prove one is free from the taint of heresy is to appear fanatically devoted to Approved Products, and utterly hateful to Unapproved ones. Thus the frantic search for consensus on everything, even silly little pop-culture fluff. The goal is to achieve a kind of mental North Korea, where everything not forbidden is compulsory (and the first person to stop clapping for Glorious Leader is taken out back and shot).
Sadly, it has deeply infected the Right, too. Folks in Our Thing are shocked to learn that I’m bored silly by Tolkien, couldn’t care less about Star Trek, and don’t read comic books. Yes, fine, I’ve seen your arguments — really, mere statements — about Tolkien’s excellence a thousand times, and guess what? I agree with you. Those are good things. But he still spends one hundred and fifty fucking pages describing some dork’s birthday party. Guess further what? It doesn’t bother me in the slightest that you do like Tolkien, that you apparently consider stuff like “elevensies” and “second breakfast” deep and meaningful literature (instead of diabetes-inducing saccharine cutesy crap). De gustibus non disputandum — life’s too short.
The Left, at least, are like this because they have no stable identity. How could they? The canon of Approved Opinions can change 180 degrees in an instant, and one must change with them or be banished to outer darkness. Call it the Molotov-Ribbentrop Effect, or, if you prefer, we have always been at war with Eastasia. A stable identity requires at least some successful efforts to align oneself with Reality; the One Ring of Leftist belief is that Reality is always wrong.
We have no excuse. The Reality is, there is no work of art so great that nobody is bored by it; none so terrible that nobody likes it. Moreover, nobody who lives in Reality — which is all of us, even the Left — has the time to form full, informed opinions on every little thing. Yes, I am certain that if I were locked in a room with nothing but stacks of comic books, I could find lots to appreciate about them, and, in time, might even come to say that I like comic books. But until that happens, I will continue in my blissful indifference to the whole schmear.
Folks in Our Thing are even worse when it comes to people. Again, the Reality is, nobody is 100% “based.” We all have vast areas of our lives that aren’t consistent with other vast areas of our lives. We power through with shit-eating grins, because, again, life’s too short. I hate Lefties; millionaires preaching about Marxism is the height of hypocrisy; yet Rage Against the Machine makes some of the best weightlifting music ever recorded, so they’re still playing on my iPod (further hypocrisy at least 2x) when I hit the gym.
I like what I like about [pick your Alt-Righter]. I don’t like what I don’t like about him, and I’m blissfully indifferent to the rest. And that’s ok. I don’t even particularly care if ___ is basically just a grifter — at this point in the history of Our Thing, getting the ideas out there is far more important than any one person’s (fairly obviously shady) motives for putting them out. Study your history, comrades — Gleichschaltung comes after Machtergriefung.
For the rest, indifference. You like what you like; I like what I like; and that’s OK, because you’re you and I’m me. Celebrate some real diversity, willya? Or not. I’m indifferent.