It occurs to me that I crisscross between skepticism (which I embrace) and cynicism nowadays. I seem to have always questioned the truth of just about everything; but lately I feel like I’m more frequently doing so with a preconception of falsehood, and I don’t think that’s healthy. I’m not sure how to turn it around.
I was telling Kay yesterday of my opinion that a lot of the behavioral issues we’re seeing these days are attributable to a lack of personal accountability; and that, although I don’t believe we invented it, a lot of that is a failure of my generation… or me. I laugh at Charlie Sheen but I also think he’s a horribly malformed human being. Instead of spiraling toward a pauper’s grave, Arnold Schwarzenegger is restarting his movie career. I don’t even want to think about how many billions of people have heard of any number of celebritantes but have never heard of Dian Fossey. (She’d have been 81 today).
When I lived in Southern California, I’d hear Michael Josephson airing his snippets for “Character Counts” and… okay, I’d yell at my radio: “No, it doesn’t! No one cares!” That’s cynical, because someone must care whether it’s me or Josephson or whomever.
Who was surprised when the NRA put out a character assassination piece against the President instead of any pretense at a rational argument against gun control? That prejudice that you’re about to hear a bullshit argument is cynicism, and it pretty much closes the door against changing anything.
I have to find a way to believe that things can change. I think that if I can’t find a way to give them the benefit of any doubt, I can’t expect or even hope that they will do the same for me.