Oh, yes, we MUST talk about it.
It’s time we had a conversation. A discourse. A national
discussion on this issue. After all, social media has taught us that there are
two kinds of people in the world: those who display their social awareness on
Facebook, and the cold, heartless automatons who don’t. We are a nation of
cowards, as one prolific talker once said, because we simply don’t talk about
it. We’re not afraid to solve the problem; we’re only afraid to talk about it.
We MUST talk about it, even though we rarely talk of
anything else—precisely because the talking we’re doing isn’t the RIGHT
talking. We must talk, and talk and talk some more….until the other side talks
the same talk as we. Our talking must match our hashtags and profile picture
changes as symbols of our soft hearts—hearts softened by talking.
Oh, please oh PLEASE—let’s talk about it.
Never mind the talking that’s already been done. Much of it,
true, has been one-sided and condescending to the majority of our citizens. But
until they talk as we do, their talk is invalid and backwards. They must be
made to understand—and can only be made to understand through further talking.
If it seems as if the talk we’re talking has all happened before, never mind
that.
Tomorrow, some other Incident will grab the headlines. The media
will put its hook into our collective nose and snap our collective head around to
look at it….and will demand that we TALK.
We will talk as though no talking has
ever happened before except THIS talking. We will talk with earnestness and
zeal and passion—as though no other side exists in the conversation. And if someone
dares to disagree with the talk we’re talking, we’ll simply accuse them of not
wanting to talk. After all, that’s the unpardonable sin, right? Pretending that
the time for talking has passed?
Let’s talk.
We can and MUST talk about this.
And while we’re talking about THIS, on the other side of the
country will be—SQUIRREL! Now we must talk about this, too.
The rural rubes and slack-jawed rednecks, their teeth
stained by Copenhagen and carbohydrates, display their ignorance by refusing to
be led by the nose to react to the next Incident. They refuse their just
penance by refusing to talk. But we—WE—are enlightened. We are cultured. We are
sensitive. Because we talk.
Yes, we MUST talk. About it.
After all, talking is its own end. Who would be ignorant enough
to see talking as an activity that should necessarily lead to solutions? Such hillbillies.
Talking is for talking. If we solved any problems, we’d be finished talking. And
that can NEVER be.
As long as we’re talking, then, please don’t speak to us of
solutions. Don’t try to “solve” the problem of the latest Incident. Sometimes,
we just want to talk. We don’t want that hyper-masculine “problem-solving”
paradigm spoiling our sensitive talk-fest. Talk we must, and talk we will. And
he who will not talk with us deserves not our validation.
Yes, we must talk. And talk. And talk some more. Let the
same things be talked that were talked the last time. The last TEN times. Let
us talk as though we’ve never talked before. Let our Orwellian insistence on
scrubbing the history of our last ten talks be the driving force behind
fruitfully fruitless talking on an even grander scale.
We. Must. Talk. About. It.
About it—we must talk.
Let the talking commence.
And never end.
