Attachments can come in many forms. We can become attached to things; keepsakes, favourite things, things that we watch and enjoy listening to, there are too many things to mention. But I think the most unhealthy and possibly dangerous things we can become attached to are ideas.
When I sat down to write this I had to write this: http://lindaghillfiction.com/2015/02/14/fandom-form-letter-tongue-in-cheek/ first. I’m not sure if somewhere between the popularity of the tabloid and the mainstream inundation we have of celebrity news there has become an increase in the obsession people have for their favourite stars; I worry about the state of many people’s ideas of who these celebrities actually are, particularly young girls.
From the time of Puppy Love I’ve known what it is to “fall in love” with a singer. I’ve since recognized that it wasn’t actually love but infatuation. At the time I would pounce on anything Donny Osmond and soak it up. I’d stay home instead of going out with my friends in order to catch a single glimpse on TV. So what has changed?
The internet, for one. Being so much easier for people to find things–pictures, videos, interviews–of their favourite stars – is it feeding the obsession even more? The constant need for these stars to keep themselves in the limelight and give up more of their personal lives can’t be helping. And there breeds the dangerous, obsessive, possessive ideas in young girls’ (and even adults) minds that simply won’t go away. “He’s meant to be mine.” “We have a special connection.” It can seriously interfere with the healthy growth of a person. I know people who refuse real life relationships because they are waiting for their star to meet them and sweep them off their feet. And the pure inundation of media feeds it.
It’s not an isolated phenomenon. It’s widespread. It’s growing. And I wonder if there’s anything we can do about it. Somehow I doubt it.
I have to wonder too how the stars themselves cope with it. Fandom is nice, but the obsessive letters they must get have to be disconcerting. The paparazzi have proven dangerous and intrusive. It’s a wonder to me that anyone would want to be famous. But then I suppose they have their own attachments.
I’ve held off reviewing the trilogy of 50 Shades of Grey because, mostly, I didn’t think it was worth my time. A poorly written, badly researched Twilight fanfic, it was more laughable when I read it than anything. It’s a masterpiece of an example of something that should have never been published for so many reasons, and yet it was.
I’m writing this now for two reasons. First, that I made a silly suggestion in my last post that single women go to see the movie, and further to that end I want to take it back – at least until you’ve read this review of the movie, which is my second reason for coming out with this now —–>>> http://www.mamamia.com.au/rogue/fifty-shades-of-grey-review-rosie-waterland/
I’ve said a few times that the film couldn’t possibly be worse than the book. It seems that perhaps, if the above review is accurate, that it might even be doing those who see 50 Shades as romance a favour by depicting the character of Christian Grey for what he really is: a narcissist, and a dangerous one at that.
I have to believe that E.L. James meant the story to be titillating; to show the world of BDSM in the mainstream. 50 Shades of Grey is NOT, however, an accurate depiction of what BDSM is. Although I’ve never been active in a BDSM relationship, I’ve written extensively with someone who has. I learned a lot from this. Foremost, and E.L. James actually WROTE this into the contract she copied and pasted numerous times in the book, is that a submissive must be able to trust a Dom. And over and over and over again, Christian Grey, the Dom, proves himself untrustworthy. Consistency is so far from one of James’ strong suits though, it catapults itself far above the ceiling over which my eyes constantly rolled during the reading of the novels. The average reader may have skimmed this. The writer and editor in me could not. It’s that “skimming” which leads me to believe, nay, KNOW that 50 Shades of Grey is a danger to any and all young women who fall into the trap of seeing it as romantic – or anything but what it is. A story of torture at the hands of a psychopathic narcissist.
If you’re planning to see the movie, know what you’ll be watching. The word “fun” should be banned from the screening of this film.
I’ve always loved looking at abandoned buildings. I remember going on long car trips with my parents and sitting in the back seat watching the scenery go by; nothing caught my attention quite like an old house with its windows boarded up and ivy threatening to consume it whole, or a broken down barn, its walls leaning off its stone foundation as though a good wind could transport it to Oz. Such sceneries inspired me to wonder who lived there, and what ultimately caused them to walk away. Even better were the houses with the front door left open. Traveling by at 60mph my nose would be pressed up against the glass, hoping for a glimpse of peeling wallpaper inside. Did it burn? Perhaps the dog got out and they ran after it, never to return.
I think for me its mostly about the history I can’t read about in a book. I can walk around somewhere like Canterbury Cathedral and think more about all the shoes that wore the floor into ruts than I pay attention to the plaques, telling me which king or queen was entombed where. That’s what imagination is for, after all. Pure inspiration.
And so yes, for these reasons I enjoy looking at photos of abandoned buildings, taken by photographers who love to go into such places. I’d seen the term “ruin porn” a few times around the internet, but it wasn’t until I discovered photographer Seph Lawless, just yesterday in fact, that I decided to look up the term and see exactly what it means.
According to Wikipedia and another article – The Psychology of Ruin Porn I found, the term “ruin porn” refers to the concept that there are photographers out there who take pictures of abandoned places without documenting the wheres, whys and hows in which the places became dilapidated, thus exploiting them much like pornography exploits its subjects. I beg to differ. And yet, can I?
The third (and final) definition in Merriam Webster’s free online dictionary – and the only one not mentioning sex specifically, is this:
3: the depiction of acts in a sensational manner so as to arouse a quick intense emotional reaction
There is definitely something to this in regards to “ruin porn.” In seeing a picture of belongings left behind in the aftermath of disaster, strong feelings indeed are provoked. There’s nothing quite like an abandoned teddy bear left in the mud to bring a tear to the eye. We tend to sympathize inasmuch as what if it happened to us? But what of an empty, abandoned house? Must we know everything about its previous owners and what kind of devastation, whether financial or physical, caused them to leave in order to sympathize with them? Is taking a picture of the structure exploiting their misery in the same way the pornographer exploits his or her human subjects, for the sake of money and lust?
It’s a tough call.
I won’t stop looking at ruin photography; it still inspires stories within me. Does that make me a pornographer? Or is this all just another case of oversensitivity?
All this instantaneous gratification of social media and being able to have our words read immediately is somewhat dangerous: It’s not just “putting your foot in your mouth” anymore; now you can “put your keyboard in your mouth.”
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As with Stream of Consciousness Saturday, if you see a ping back from someone else in my comment section, click and have a read. It’s bound to be short and sweet.
The rules that I’ve made for myself (but don’t always follow) for “One-Liner Wednesday” are:
I’m a true believer in the concept that anyone can choose to be happy, in any circumstance. I understand it seems impossible at times. Times of loss, of grief, of depression can darken the world around us to the extent that there is no light to be found anywhere. And yet…
There is a time to grieve. Being sad and allowing ourselves to be sad is a vital part of the healing process. There is benefit in sadness in that it allows us to relax our expectations of ourselves.
I remember when my father died. I was fourteen at the time, an only child, and my mother was devastated. I was sad, of course, but I refused to allow myself to show it in front of her. I felt that I needed to be strong for her. Days before he died (it was completely unexpected–a sudden heart attack) he sat me down and told me that as long as I could laugh, I could survive anything. They were, obviously, words I took deeply to heart. And so, at his funeral I sat beside my mother and I said something to make her laugh. I can’t not believe that my father would have wanted that. He was an extremely funny man, and he loved to make people laugh, as I do.
I wonder about the psychology behind making her laugh – was it because if she could, I wouldn’t lose her too?
Was it actually happiness? No. But I have since, through all the trials and tribulations I have faced with failed marriages, with disabled children, decided to be happy. I can let it all get to me or I can laugh.
It can be difficult. It can be done. But it’s not for everyone.
Maybe I was dreaming of my prompt this morning but when I dreamed this morning it was of the poles changing direction. I dreamed of the end of the world. The water in my house didn’t work, the sewers were running backwards as was a natural spring in my house that reversed and became muddy and the electricity went out. Several times I think I woke a little (because Alex was coughing) but I drifted back each time into the dream, knowing I was dreaming but unable to stop it. I don’t remember if I was awake to imagine the end of the world but I stood with my children and told them I loved them as the world imploded…
And so then I was thinking I should tell Alex’s dad that he’s still sick but I may send him to school on Monday regardless since he doesn’t seem contagious, which led me to think of the word “irregardless” which shouldn’t be a word. Should it? Spell check likes it. But it makes no sense. To “irregard,” one would think, would be a negative meaning “not to regard” and so putting a “less” on the end turns “irregardless” into a double negative meaning to regard. So sending Alex to school regarding his cough would be senseless… (Yes, Doobster, I looked up the Webster’s definition of “irregardless” but the looking up of it was ruining the flow of my writing which is why I didn’t copy and paste it.)
And so this is an account, really, of my morning so far. Not really stream of consciousness thought (though it was at the time) but I have written this unedited and as it came back to me, which is kind of a double negative in and of itself.
The good news is, if you have made it to the end of this post, at least the world hasn’t ended yet. Hooray!
Anyone who would like to try it out, feel free to use the “One-Liner Wednesday” title in your post, and if you do, you can ping back here to help your blog get more exposure. As with Stream of Consciousness Saturday, if you see a ping back from someone else in my comment section, click and have a read. It’s bound to be short and sweet.
The rules that I’ve made for myself (but don’t always follow) for “One-Liner Wednesday” are as follows:
I stood at the kitchen counter yesterday, stirring Christopher’s medicine into his orange juice and I remembered learning to stir for the first time; I might have been three or four years old. It came back to me in a flash. My senses all conspired to bring me there: the sound of the spoon clinking around the inside the glass, the feel of the circular motion and the sight of my fingers manipulating the spoon in a way I no longer need to concentrate on.
Sometimes it’s the smell of freshly mowed grass, just as I recall it wafting in my bedroom window when my dad went out to mow the lawn before an early game of golf on a Sunday morning that takes me back. Or the taste of a shortbread cookie, dipped in a cup of tea.
Though many of my memories take me back to my childhood there is something inside me that refuses to believe I’m more than half my actual age. Despite my aches, the deterioration of my eyesight, and my inability to react as quickly as I used to, in my mind I can’t possibly be 50 years old.
They say that children keep us young as long as we can remember how to play. For some it’s staying active, both in body and mind. I’m sure those memories that return as though they were only yesterday must have an influence on how we feel.
I hear people, all the time, say they don’t feel as old as the calendar tells them they must be.
Anyone who would like to try it out, feel free to use the “One-Liner Wednesday” title in your post, and if you do, you can ping back here to help your blog get more exposure. As with Stream of Consciousness Saturday, if you see a ping back from someone else in my comment section, click and have a read. It’s bound to be short and sweet.
The rules that I’ve made for myself (but don’t always follow) for “One-Liner Wednesday” are as follows:
Yes, I’m jumping on the troll bandwagon. Not because I’ve been trolled, but because I’ve seen people I care about victimized. I’m writing to define the troll – to go through it in black and white for not only myself, but for those who have been trolled and may not even realize that’s what’s going on.
You see, the troll can and usually does, start out very subtly. And indeed, there is a fine line between trolling and stating one’s opinion most sincerely. I’ve been on that edge and though I was never labeled a troll, I believe it was a close call.
A troll, as I see it, will pick on a nuance and run with it. Take a blog post that is clearly about Point A. Point A is written about in great length with small details to back up the facts and/or story of point A. One of those details, X, is introduced as a sentence or even a phrase. The problem is, detail X is not entirely accurate. In comes the troll.
The troll will focus on detail X and make it a matter of greatest importance, and major insult to his (or her) or someone else’s person or group. He will introduce paragraphs of facts to back him up. He will make the writer regret jotting down detail X without checking the facts or worse, regret writing the post in the first place. But the kicker? The troll will end the discourse by finding something to agree with the writer on, thus causing the writer to wonder if the troll didn’t have the best intentions. This throws the writer off balance and, in some cases, the writer will allow the troll back in.
On the other side of that thin coin, is the commenter who is genuinely taken aback by a point or detail made in a post, as I was. In my particular instance, the gist of the post was that relationships often end because one person can’t accept the faults of his or her loved ones. It went on to say that (paraphrasing) “this is why marriages break up and children are abandoned.” Allow me to note here that the post wasn’t actually written by the poster (note – I didn’t say “writer”). It was one of those copy and paste “pictures” with a quote on it. The person posting it didn’t elaborate, except to say she agreed with what the “picture” said. My point in the comments (I couldn’t help myself) was that no one abandons a child because he or she can’t put up with the child’s faults unless they have serious issues of their own. I was then accused of harping on something that wasn’t the overall point of the “picture.”
So what’s the difference between me and a troll you might ask? First, I could have said, “This part of your picture hurt me because I was abandoned as a child because I cried too much,” which would be a blatant lie. A troll will lie or exaggerate, I would estimate, 90% of the time to either strengthen his argument or to get the full attention of the writer. The troll will make himself out to be SO pathetic that the writer dare not call him on it, just in case it’s true. Second, I could have said, “I would NEVER do that to my two special needs kids – and they have so many behavioural issues that sometimes I could slap them,” which would be the truth. But that statement would have made my comment about me, which is the other thing a troll invariably does. A troll’s main objective is to find a place to whine, either on his own behalf or someone else’s if he can’t make it about himself.
My advice
Trolls attack anywhere and everywhere. They pick on both little guys and big, and while you may be tempted to retaliate, it’s best to politely blow them off, just once, and then ignore them. If your other followers want to get involved, and chances are they will, ask them to ignore the troll as well. There’s no point trying to defend yourself because it only gives the troll a reason to keep commenting and whining – and that’s what he lives for.
You know you are within your rights to make an error and so do your readers. If you want to apologize for it, do so once. None of your followers who know you and care about you are going to think less of you, in fact you are probably your own worst enemy in that regard. Trolling is a psychological attack – have the confidence in yourself to know that you are not the one with the problem. The troll is.
You may have heard the phrase, “starve the troll.” Ignoring him is by far the best thing anyone can do. If he can’t get you to interact, he’ll move on. It’s important to be able to identify a troll, however. Again, the stating of one’s opinion without involving personal issues or those of a cause (i.e. most of the “ism”s) is more than likely just that. An opinion. If you can think of any other characteristics inherent to a troll, please say so in the comments. It’s something I sincerely wish we could put an end to, and something that needs to be discussed in the absence of an actual troll.
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