From Streetcars To Spaceships

Consequences in Fiction, Part Two

So I see that yesterday's post has already drawn traffic searching on the phrase "burn notice". Good. Especially since the last straw for me had been having Sam, one of the lead characters, getting beaten and interrogated for three days (unless I'm misunderstanding the timeline in the episode) and, as soon as he's untied, standing up (after three days tied to a chair?!), running into combat, and, as soon as it's over, being casually dropped off at his place looking no more than a bit tired, with just a manly "thank you, brother".

Okay, now I've never been tortured, but I've gotta say that I think that almost three weeks tied to a bed in a burn ward gives me a little to say about this, especially since I kept flashing back to those weeks while I watched the torture scenes. And I can tell you now that after three days tied to a chair, frequently with his mouth duct-taped shut (which, by the way, in a hot, enclosed space like that would have almost certainly killed him right there), being beaten, interrogated, screamed at, and spending most of the rest of the time alone in that dark metal room, he wouldn't even be able to lift his arms or walk, let alone jump into manly action. And when they go out? I'm sorry, but just about anybody would have fucking well fallen over sobbing. Would he, maybe, in theory, wait for his buddy to drive away? Possibly. But one way or another he would be very, very fucked up indeed and a couple of smart guys like those, old pros as they're supposed to be, would have acknowledged that in no uncertain way.

So, just to let y'all know, that was the thing that inspired my previous post.

And, as it happens, my timing was good. Looks like Slashdot has a thread going right now about torture in fiction based on an expansion pack for WoW, and the article they link to turns out to be about just the same point as my previous post, about the stories that fiction tells about actions having consequences. Or not.

And you know what? I think that the article says these things damned well. So I'm done. Go read it. You'll be glad that you did.

An antidote to the common bitch.

In a time of change like this people reach ever more for the comforting habit of complaining. Comforting, that is, for the person doing the complaining. And isn't it a shame how many people can't even articulate what they're upset about, let alone then work to fix those problems?

So, for years now I've had a consistent response to such bitching.

"So, let's say you're given twenty million dollars, two assistants, and two years to spend the money.

You can't spend the money to raise more money.

You can't just say 'I give the money to somebody who knows what to do.'

What do you do to address the problem you just talked about?"

Then you talk them through their response. If they say "I give money to candidates" then ask which ones. Early in the campaign or late? To the PAC or to the candidate directly? If they say they'll give it to (schools/police/whatever) ask which ones, to be used by whom, to be administered how? Just keep drilling down. Be helpful but don't give leading responses. If they stop and change their minds about something, be graceful, and acknowledge their right to do that. In fact, give them the respect they will then deserve for admitting in public that they were wrong. Just take them down the path from the general to the specific, from the universal to the local. Ask how their plans would cause their intended result. Help make it real to them. But never, ever loosen your vigilance and allow them to slip by a "and then a miracle occurs" step. Just calmly work to interweave the story you're expecting them to tell with consequences, telling details, clarifications. Be friendly, interested, attentive. But utterly unforgiving. If you haven't done this before you will find that this, too is a useful exercise.

I have found it amazing how well this focuses people's thinking. It weeds out the twits who just want to complain and leave all accountability and responsibility to others. Sometimes it actually does help people realize that there is something that they can do to improve things. And it generally clears the air. I have also found that the people I least want to deal with, the anti-intellectuals, the liars, the permanent children, the beery frat boy blowhards, are driven off by a calm, implacable application of this technique like vampires running from sunlight. Once I've pointed this approach at such people a few times, they never engage in their habitual dittohead tirades in my presence again. Makes going to parties much easier.

The key is that the question replaces the vague with the specific. It forces them to calculate costs. It (especially if there's an audience) put the onus on them to define the problem and take responsibility. It makes them reiterate what they've just said in a way that lays wonderfully effective traps for people who hide racism and such behind coded language. And, when asked of decent people, can even reduce the sense of helplessness that an inchoate problem of unknown scope creates in anybody. It teaches people to think like problem solvers rather than like passive observers. It helps people seize a sense of agency for the things around them. It penalizes and punishes the blowhards and rewards and aids the honorable.

In short, it makes all participants, including the person asking the question, into better citizens.

So the next time you hear somebody start to talk about "those people shouldn't be allowed to . . ." or "the (schools/buses/military/etc.) sucks" or whatever, smile politely, prepare for opposition, and simply pose for them that simple hypothetical. Just be sure to cut them no logical slack whatsoever, to never raise your voice or lower yourself to ad hominem attacks, and to keep them from changing the subject.

You may find that it will not only free you from idiocy, it can even be quite a lot of fun.

Invisible what? For whom?

Yesterday I bought some Metro-style shelving components at a thrift shop off Burnside and Grand. It is all configured as a clothing rack, but to me it's four posts, two shelves, some sleeves, a metal rod, and a set of low-quality but handy wheels. Forty bucks in my neighborhood? Cheap at the price.

So, since I live on 13th right past Belmont and the sun is shining, I decided to wheel them home today rather than doing anything more complex or calling a cab.

Seven blocks up, about twelve blocks over; a distance like that and somebody is going to say something. Sure enough, a woman with her husband evidently had to make a cute comment about the guy wheeling an empty clothing rack up the street.

"You taking it for a walk?" she asks with a bit of an "aren't I clever" expression.

"You could say that.", say I, "But most importantly, with all these parades this time of year, somebody needs to bring new clothes for the emperor."

I love my life.