NiceGuyNihilist
Posts: 194
Joined: 3/25/2011
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I suspect there may be some wishful thinking in the notion that bullying is, by definition, an act based in weakness and insecurity. In some cases, it could be just the opposite: an expression of an absolutely sincere feeling of blissful arrogance and entitlement. Compassionate, democratic values tend to want to deny this kind of possibility. For oppressed people (and those who have empathy for them), it's consoling to believe that the oppressor must be suffering himself on some level, or at any rate, is destined to suffer eventually (Judgment Day, karma, whatever--take your pick). I see absolutely no evidence for this notion, and admit that I cringe at what I see as the craven self-deception inherent in it. In fact, the worse a person is, the more sociopathic, the more shameless he is in his infliction of pain, and the more easily he sleeps after inflicting it. Being a little bit rotten may entail a gnawing conscience, but being rotten to the core comes with no such penalty.
That's not to say that I condone bullying. Precisely the opposite is true. I stand more adamantly against it because of my belief that there's absolutely no barrier between ill-intentioned people and their victims but those precious few of us who are both kind-hearted enough to care and bold enough to make a stand. I say "precious few" not to flatter myself but because it's a simple fact that I have almost always been the only one. For example, about a week ago, I happened to come upon four of my male coworkers having the typical escalating good-ol'-boys chat about being callous and cruel to animals. You may have encountered it: One shitbag mentions the time he had to kick his little dog across the yard for chewing on the fence, or something similar--the necessity of discipline seems to be a common theme--and the other shitbags jump in from there. In this case, one shitbag, who happened to be my boss, lamented the fact that his brother, in possession of several dogs which had become a burden, lacked the heart to take them out to [remote area in my region].
"What's at [remote area in my region]?" I inquired, feeling my eyes narrow.
"Oh, it's just a good place to dump a dog," said the shitbag. As if it was nothing.
Feeling my skin start to tingle, I locked eyes with him and said flatly, "I think anyone who does that should be shot. I'd shoot him myself." I stared between his eyes as if I might put a bullet there by looking.
He looked up at me, trembling visibly. I top him by more than a foot and could probably toss him half a dozen paces. I wondered dimly, through the wall of rage, if I was going to lose my job, then realized I didn't care. Fuck it. I might be jobless, but my balls and heart would be intact.
As if to lighten the mood, a coworker who happened to be standing nearby said with a chuckle, "That's when you say, 'Come on, dog, we're going hunting'"--and mimed shooting the dog with a rifle. Chuckles all around, from everyone except me. I felt my face blazing with barely restrained malevolence. Turning to face him squarely, I said, "Not funny to me." Dead silence now. My hands begged to be fists; I made them hang open at my sides. I was going to become violent if this went on much longer. I know how much anger I can endure without breaking someone or something, I know what the line feels like when I cross it, and it was coming up fast on the radar. So I started walking, numbly and mechanically. No direction in mind. I just went. That was all. I never heard more about it.
What I find most galling in this situation, and similar situations I've been in, is that generally, nobody has the guts to join me even after I stick my neck out. Okay--I can accept that you fucks don't have my courage (or rashness, or passion, or insanity). But can't you have some? Do you have to be such thorough jellyfish?
I think it's important to distinguish between people who bully and accept bullying in the gutless, milquetoastish way that seems so common to so many of my fellow "men," and say, Napoleon, who inflicted staggering misery but had unimpeachable balls, an unimpeachable will. I respect a stalwart black heart infinitely more than a flimsy gray one.
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“Consider it: every person you have ever met, every person will suffer the loss of his friends and family. All are going to lose everything they love in this world. Why would one want to be anything but kind to them in the meantime?"
Sam Harris
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