On Boundaries

First off, a little philosophical rant.

I have really severe opinions on religion that, for the most part, I only share with those that are like-minded. I can be respectful of someone’s faith – without subscribing to it. I can sit on the sidelines while someone paints an homage to a deity that I don’t believe in, without knocking them from their pedestal. I only ask the same, in return.

See, my dad and I used to have these really in-depth conversations that could go for hours, long after the coffee cooled and the smoke had cleared the room. Maybe those talks were nullified by the fact that we weren’t discussing things we actually should be, but at the same time, these talks that started when I was around eight, meant something. On some level, that my dad considered me peer enough, intelligent enough, to debate as to how things in the world worked.

As an aside, I guess I could admit to starting what I see as the beginnings of those same talks with Isobel, and I have no doubt that at an even younger age, she’ll be surpassing my points and counterpoints with her own. I already know that she’ll be smarter than I or JDawg.

One thing we both agreed on strongly was that we were not atheists. Agnostic, by nature, curious, but not very explorative – we had similar thought processes about how religion affected people, how it shaped the world and how people chose to interact both within and outside of their collective faiths.

Ultimately, we agreed on one major thing: if there were a god, then such an entity was so much further developed from us human beings, that we would be remiss to think ourselves witty or pious, or even intelligent enough to fully comprehend him or his methods. Or even his existence. It would be conceited to think that this omniscient, omnipresent being was something we, with our tiny brained, unsuperior intellect could get. Never mind that something as simple as a collection of books could exist, semi-authored by such an awesome force, to guide us in everyday life.

So, I took some philosophy, read Voltaire, compared religions (liked buddhism the best, of course), went to a few different churches each a few different times. And I decided that it wasn’t for me. It could be for anyone else – I sure as hell wasn’t around to save someone from something that ideally would lead them to make purely-inspired choices – but it wasn’t for me.

I’ve seen a lot of horribleness, I’ve lived a lot. It would take a certain trait that I don’t possess to be able to have blind faith in someone or something whose led me down the paths I’ve walked and created scenes I’ve glimpsed. I just can’t. I won’t. But I won’t take someone else’s faith from them. Just as I expect no one to try to take my lack of faith from me, to save me, or to preach in my direction.

But here’s a careful clarification: I can still discuss religious activities with someone, I can ponder a greater picture and I can even wonder about a plan or fate. I just refuse to call it God’s plan.

Without segue, a shift in direction.

The blogroll. It’s the equivalent, you could say, of a jump in – your blog has been beaten around enough and come out the other side still alive. You’re in. It’s one blogger vouching for another. It’s saying, “yo, check out her, or him and them, they’ve got skills, wit, talent.” Over the years, I’ve seen people troll around for link love – though it’s become quite uncommon and not forward in the past year or so. Mostly we’ve all become a friend of a friend, who knows so and so and hangs out IRL with Miss whatever-her-name-is.

When it’s like this, some could say moderately incestuous, where obvious cliques have been formed and blogrolls look to be mirror images, it’s a lot more intimate than it used to be. Back in the day, you could cruise someone’s roll and find more people you’d not read or heard of than otherwise. That’s disappearing, but it’s being replaced with a positive, too – genuine, loving friendships.

I’m all for that.

What I’m not for?

Someone who ‘knows’ virtually no one coming into a social atmosphere and one-by-one, almost systematically, ‘meeting’ and ‘talking’ to my friends. Yes, we should all be friends and try to find a camaraderie, to continue to build a community. Where that ends is when this person who had every minute of every day virtually for me, has moved on to bigger and better pastures via my friends’ lists and I have been shifted directly out of their life, for it. You understand this, really? Talking four or more hours a night, every night, to nothing in weeks. NOTHING. To seeing name dropping taking place, comments being left – all elsewhere, for the new, cooler kids.

I’ve been used, I feel. Tossed aside. Made unimportant, and for what officially-given reason?

The claim to need more time to explore a relationship with God.

Something I cannot apparently be a part of because of my refusal to be preached to.

There’s a difference, you see. Meeting a potential friend via someone you called your best friend, and moving onto a first name basis, constantly name dropping with and about them, invading their space and thoughts, only to move onto another person, then another and another. It’s not looked upon well, in general.

Because IRL and online, when you develop a relationship with someone, you do just that, develop it – you don’t immediately jump in with two feet after you’ve put IRL names to blog names – based on them being friends with one of yours friends – and then make some jokes, tell tales of woe, from the get-go acting as if you’ve adopted this new person into your life.

It’s sketchy. It makes people distrust you and wonder what your intentions are, why you’re even around. What you want from them – is it really just about attention to your complaints, praise for your scribblings and devotion, another notch on your blogging belt? It’s made me regret my actions, vouching for you, because a lot of people have been made to feel wary and distrustful, saddened and concerned, by you, who I brought into the fold.

A year ago, you were an entirely different person. You knew almost no one and then you ‘met’ some of my friends and within a few days, you were telling me about how many emails you were trading back and forth with them, using their first names and telling me about their lives.

That progressed, but honestly, your blogging did not. The same posts, in different words – the same day-to-day complaints and occasional highs but mostly lows, and then of course, the memes. But you got more and more, or I should say, you seeked out more and more attention and with this networking, you started actually writing, not merely diarizing, which is a positive thing, really.

But then the next thing I know, I’m having to end at least the third conversation in a two week span wherein you’ve told me something akin to how your devotion to a God will ensure that your car gets fixed.

And then, I was worthless to you.

Now, I ask.

What kind of a fucking CHRISTIAN uses someone like that and then throws them away? Fuck you and your self-indulgent faith, I’m out.

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