Being Offensive

No, this isn't a post about running the ball in the NFL.  It's about what we say and/or don't say and how people react to it.

I posted something on my Facebook fan page about Whitney Houston's death the other day.  Some people thought it cruel and "too soon".  I understand that sentiment.  I do not agree with it obviously otherwise I wouldn't have posted it.  I don't set out to be rude.  I am just myself, which apparently lowers the tone and upsets the tranquility of those around me.

And to that I say?  I'm sorry.  I'm sorry I disturbed your little bubble of peace.  Honestly.

But you know what?  I'm disturbed.  No, not like that.  They did all the tests and they came back mostly normal.  But I'm disturbed that people get offended by the wrong things, in my, say it together, never humble opinion.

Some folks got offended that I made a crack about Whitney's crack usage.  I think that's the wrong thing to get offended about.  What am I offended about?

I'm offended that someone given everything (from what we know)- a good family, great talent, wealth, opportunity, beauty, physical health, etc, etc, etc- someone given so much more than literally millions, if not billions of other people on the planet would ever or could ever hope to get- squandered those blessings.

Do people make mistakes?  Of course.  I've made tons.  I have a few in my past that would make you puke your guts out.  Whitney made mistakes I guess.  Note the sentence there- "Whitney" made mistakes.  She made poor choices.  I am sorry for her family that she did so, as I'm sure all of her poor choices hurt them very much.

But I do not respect someone who was given everything and essentially held it up in front of the billions of people who would give anything for a crumb of her blessings, and threw it down, stomped on it and let it drain into the gutter.

I find that more offensive than any quip about her life or death. 

I know that people may find this cruel and judgmental.  Fair enough. Some may say, 'She had her demons. Addiction is a disease' etc, etc.  Again, fair enough. We all have demons.  We all have problems.  Most without the resources or ability to help themselves like Whitney had.  Hell I'm sure there are people in many parts of the world who would trade a year of life to have their last day partying at the Beverly fucking Hilton. 

I will save the tiny bits of my black heart that can empathize for those who do help themselves and who have everything working against them, rather than the other way around.

2 comments:

  1. The desire to collect your toenail clippings in a little jar and then whisper my secrets to it grows a little more each day. Luckily we're only at 2%.

    I am pretty much Whitney-ambivalent, but I do remember being utterly disturbed by her original downfall. She's pretty lucky to have survived this long, really.

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  2. Rock-star drug culture is pretty mind-boggling. Why not use your famous status to help others (many do, to be fair) than feeling sorry for yourself? But then, it is within that self-pity that many artists find their brilliance, so it's a double-edged sword I suppose.

    I do wish that all of the people who instantly started posting images on Facebook of starving African children would actually CARE about those starving African children not only when a famous person dies. It happens every time, never fails.

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