A Pilgrim’s Digression

There is an article on blogging at “Opinion Journal”, the online op-ed page for the Wall Street Journal. Titled Disinhibition Nation, the author, Daniel Henninger, contends that the Internet is breeding a generation of social misfits who not only do not learn acceptable social behavior, but find among other anonymous bloggers justification and respect for their anti-social behavior.

As well as citing the recent case of a wanna-be cannibal who also happened to be a blogger, Henninger points to the extreme language used in comments on political blogs. Curiously, as examples of this “intense” language, he only quotes the cursing common on Democratic/Liberal blogs.

After reading his article, I have to believe that on Conservative blogs, everyone calmly drinks virtual tea and whispers quietly in proper English about their beloved fellow patriots in the Democratic party. Meanwhile, a soft cuckoo clock chimes in the background.

And of course, no comments are allowed on Henninger’s article. Believe me, I looked; I’ve become quite used to scrolling to the bottom of an article and voicing my opinion. When the comment box isn’t there, I feel slighted.

Speaking for myself, I was a social misfit long before the Internet. I haven’t found myself less inhibited by my blog. So far, I have not experienced any urges to cannibalism. And although I may occasionally mutter a “fuck” or some other curse, when Republicans irritate me, I don’t think my language is exceptionally intense. I realize full well, I am not the norm. I wouldn’t be a misfit, otherwise.

But if silence is the alternative to a raucous, obscene, offensive, and completely open forum for discourse, I’ll take obscenity. I know those who believe social discourse should be controlled will disagree, but to me, the great thing about the Internet is that even cannibals can have a blog. Even fools can express an opinion and be roundly laughed at. Those who can’t reason can utter curses instead. And even social misfits can feel that someone cares, and for a little while, the loneliness dissipates.