[868] Hippocratic Oaf

The dictionary.com definition of a “hypocrite” is as follows:

1. a person who pretends to have virtues, moral or religious beliefs, principles, etc., that he or she does not actually possess, especially a person whose actions belie stated beliefs.

2. a person who feigns some desirable or publicly approved attitude, especially one whose private life, opinions, or statements belie his or her public statements.

What strikes me about these are that the person has to be “pretending” to be desirable or have a belief.

Anymore, I don't know that hypocrisy really exists. There are literally tens of thousands of examples born from modern history of Republican talking points being refuted by Republican talking points, a Trump tweet for a Trump tweet, a story of some religious leader's sexual proclivities mocked against their railing against homosexuality or the sanctity of marriage.

People “feel” internally consistent and justified about literally everything. Internal conflict arises when some political hierarchy is disrupted or plan you've put in place can no longer be anticipated. It's not that your soul is wrenching to speak to a saintly conscience. People are convinced of their moral sanctity. People are giddily complicit in their rage and joy. For every ten things you could tell them they were a hypocrite about, they'll have a hundred that fit perfectly together. People treat their decision making like drawing different shapes. A circle doesn't make a hypocrite of a square and a big triangle doesn't contradict a small triangle.

“Hypocrite” feels like a word invented by an uppity liberal blind to their own fascist idealism or moral certitude. How dare you!? In going back on your word or in showing us your true self how can polite society, nay, the universe, suffer the indignity?

To exist is to be positioned at the center of infinite unknowable forces. When one of them acts on you, in spite or ambivalence of another, that's not hypocritical, it's the often unfavorable condition to being here at all. Your staunch environmentalist will often find themselves in a car. Those pleading with us to not render their relatives as lunatic Nazis know intimately the love they've expressed to or felt from those lunatic Nazis.

In order for me to entertain the idea of hypocrisy, I have to respect your agency. Before that, I have to respect my own. In my world, you're allowed to call out hypocrisy. I worry about being remotely internally consistent and the seemingly always-changing ways in which that might look. Do I make Capital T “Truth” statements it behooves me to behave in service to? Or do I have a thousand little t true-enoughs that help me cope with my rage and indifference? Is not every moment an opportunity to affirm or undermine yourself? Can you spend your whole life in service to something, recant with your last breath, and be remembered primarily as a hypocrite? Ask Ayn Rand, because god knows The Fountainhead was about social security checks.

I don't regard people as respecting their agency, so I do not retain the impulse to tout their hypocrisy. It's like thinking my dog likes her food and feeling aggrieved when she eats a piece of shit.

With my agency, I attempt to demonstrate. I look for words. I build. I make calculated risks. I lament the things I'm “putting up with” and when I feel “stuck” and celebrate the opportunity to be uneasy about looking for something new. It's not psychologically gratifying to keep yourself on your toes. It is not anyone's first instinct to look for feedback from the mob or to test their new idea or behavior in the wild. As such, if I had 950 blogs talking about shitty friendships I still maintained or the things I wanted to do and learn with none in progress, you could be confident I had zero capacity or authority to wax about hypocrisy.

I have an idea that I have good reason to respect every little battle in which I wish to hold the line on one or more ideals that have held me accountable to myself. I'm fighting. I'm working. I'm looking for a daily reminder of the type of person I am and still wish to be. I'm actually in here doing and saying things outside for you to use in deciding whether or not you're going to take the license and responsibility that comes with advanced language.

Yesterday, I had a brief high in reflecting on how much money I made scrapping. It felt possible to scrape by with this single venture if scaled up and organized. It felt like a solid-enough piece of the dozen little things I wish to make part of my entrepreneurial pool. Then I got gas. Then I got hungry. Then I got a little too annoyed about the rust on my torn gloves and dust in my truck. I, incorrectly, thought that had I just kissed enough ass or went with the negligent flow of something like my State job, I'd have so much more money and feel some kinda way.

Did I contradict myself? Was I a hypocrite? I was out there actively pursuing a tangible perspective in service to the complaints and fights I got into over DCS. It's all good and bad all of the time for differently weighted reasons. It's all right and wrong. How do your decisions make you lean? What's the example and standard you’re setting?