Tuesday, November 30, 2004
"Everything feels like the ocean to a sponge."
or How I Learned to Give Up On Myself and Blame the GOP While Mel Gilles claims to be an "advocate for victims of domestic abuse," she clearly demonstrates that she is in no way a professional. In the first line of her piece she demonstrates a lack of comprehension of everyday situations so fundamental it boggles the mind. Gilles describes Rather's apology for "not getting his facts straight" as "undermining his credibility." The apology -- not the mistake *cough* itself is what she identifies as the source of his loss of credibility. This is the twisted interpretation of "act as if..." that suggests that if one pretends that nothing bad is happening -- it isn't happening. Talk about prerequisites defining a participant in an abusive relationship. She goes on to cite other prominent Lefties casting about to grasp the causes and sources of their election loss, characterizing their efforts, as would I, as pathetic floundering. Cries of "Why did they beat me?" abound. Then she slides in her coup -- the backbone of her argument to come: "beat" is not to be interpreted as "bested in a contest." Oh no -- "beat" means "strike repeatedly," "punish by hitting," to "lambaste, pound, pummel, thrash or *smack*." This astonishing leap of language abuse is actually her metaphor for the Presidential Election results: "They beat us because they are abusers." Not because "they made better arguments," or "they had better plans." Not even "because their crazy plans appealed to more people who actually got off their couches and focused their attention long enough to vote." No, indeed. The only person she can imagine asking what they did wrong is a victim. The question morphs under Gilles' tutelage from "what did we do that didn't work?" into "they will keep hitting us and beating us as long as we keep sticking around and asking ourselves what we are doing to deserve the beating." Take a moment to steady yourself from that acrobatic leap for Gilles continues on to even more dizzying feats of linguistic torture. Her description of them [specifically Bush] is from the perspective of a very small creature viewing a much larger -- larger than life -- being from a great distance. It is heartbreaking to read the raw pain in her words -- pain that clearly comes from the crazymaking mash of incomprehension, falsehoods and personal projections she calls reasoning. Pain that clearly comes from her strong identification of herself as a permanent victim. She sees herself as so small, so helpless, so vulnerable that anyone simply going about their daily business would crush her unnoticed. She sees her fellow Lefties and anyone who will hold still long enough in the same way. She sees the poll-whoring of the DNC not as a lack of foundation Values and Vision, but as a pathetic effort to please an abuser -- "wash the windows better, get out that spot... cry for the attention and affection and approval of the President and his followers." Her pain originates not in politics but in projection of her experience of parental abandonment, stored these many long years unexamined and, therefore, still running her life as she, unaware, flails about for some small comfort. "...we will never be worthy." Her solution? "First, you must admit you are a victim." Perhaps a forehead stamp? Next, she recommends saving the world. Not "putting on your own oxygen mask first," but "promise to protect yourself and everyone around you that is being victimized." Not even to actual do it -- but to promise. The word sufficing for the deed... Distraction. Denial. One woman's naked psyche spread-eagled on the 'net, serving as example of the motivations behind the loony, pathetic, off-the-wall outpouring we have been shaking our heads over for weeks, now. PEST has its origins in a much deeper, longer term dysfunction -- the culture of victimization. The belief in personal powerlessness. The conviction that one remains childlike -- incapable of meeting the demands of Life toe-to-toe. The search for a larger, powerful protector in the abstract of government or society and the seeking of solace in abstract, incomprehensibles like Social Justice. Gilles has no idea how she is being abused -- she just knows she is a victim and for a victim to exist, she must have -- or create -- a perpetrator. The triangle is completed by a rescuer and the dance goes on. If you tell her, "stop it -- I'm not hurting you." you are abusive. If you ignore her or refuse to play along, you are abusive. Anything you do or say that does not fit your role as perpetrator can be made to fit by virtue of not fitting. Yes, it is crazymaking. On all sides. And it is part of the hell to which we consign children to whom we do not teach "How to Lose 101." Score-less ball games, "A for effort, not accomplishment," and purple ink all teach that one is too fragile to strive -- to sweat and strain and demand one's own best. Too delicate to risk failing to meet a goal. Too powerless and lacking and broken to play in the real world of skinned knees and bloody noses, the thrill of victory and the agony of defeat. I can only hope that her supervisor at the shelter, or wherever she "works," will see her post and realize that she should never be allowed contact with vulnerable, impressionable people fresh out of traumatic situations. People in that state of mind need to be reminded of their personal power and that it comes solely from taking responsibility for themselves, their choices, their actions. This poor writer has a great deal of work to do. She doesn't even realize that it is she who is hitting her.
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