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January 29, 2006

can you tell me how to get, how to get to snobbery street?

"Snob," like "politically correct," is a term often abused. Just because someone thinks you're saying appalling or moronic things makes them neither snobby nor PC. Such a claim, like all ad hominem attacks, smacks of desperation, if not full-blown intellectual bankruptcy.

I'm sorry. Was that snobby of me to say? Well then, I'm a snob.

• • •
My sister has a new boyfriend, and with that, a whole new belief system. Yep, she's one of those people. She was railing about how W is "the stupidest [sic] President we've ever had!!!!!" I asked how familiar she was with W.H. Harrison, Jackson, Grant, and Buchanan. She wasn't. I asked her if she knew what W's academic background is. She didn't. "Well, considering how you're unfamiliar with both W and history, how can you assess the one's place in the other?"

"Don't be such a snob," she said in lieu of I see your point. I should learn more before issuing personal attacks. Gosh, dear brother, you're nearly as smart as you are handsome!!!!! "What, did you vote for him?"

Actually, no. I think the man's a menace.

"Then why are you defending him?"

It was that moment when I realized that she's right about my being a snob; she's just wrong about how. A few days of self-examination, and voila. The list of things I'm snobby about follows.

• People who can't construct an argument but vigorously assert anyway. Constructing an argument ain't hard. Bundle together a few verifiable facts, qualify anything that's subjective, and state your case. How come hardly anyone can do it? And how come my expectation of sound logic is my fault? Extra demerit points to people who refute data with anecdotal evidence.
  
  Me: See? These studies show that smoking while you're pregnant is horrible for the baby.
  Nadine: I smoked through my first pregnancy, and she came out fine.
  
  Me: According to the NWS, where you're looking at property gets 65 inches of rain a year. That's nearly twice what Seattle gets.
  Friend: It's not bad. The day we went, the sky was blue, and when we got back to Seattle it was raining. I'm buying it.
  
  Extra special demerits for people who indulge in personal attacks in lieu of evidence. Personal attacks in addition to evidence are fine by me. Enjoyable, even.


• People who take all disagreement personally. Really. You might be wrong. And really. I might like you anyway. It's looking increasingly doubtful, though.


• Higher education. I don't care where you went, nor even if you did. But when people who didn't go to college take that extra step of demeaning its value, I'm blowing the whistle every time. My bachelor's degree taught me self-reliance and how to exploit obtuse, uncaring bureaucracies, skills integral to my person today. My master's sculpted me into a skilled writer/editor and blessed me with a core of diverse, literate friends. And both introduced me to my love of teaching. Rather than deride the value of the path you didn't take, why not tell me what value you derived from what you did?


• Professional editors. It doesn't matter what form your professional training took, but you better have had some. If you just woke up one day, declared yourself an editor, and proceeded to find fault, real and imaginary, with others' work, you disrespect the profession, those who went into it diligently and on purpose, and your writers.


• Professional cheerleaders. I have a strong bias here. "Hate" is not a strong enough word. I'll take my sex and violence separately, thanks. You'll pardon me if I think people who watch teenage girls simulating masturbation at a football game to be less than real fans. At Super Bowl XXX, the NFL thoughtfully provided the silicon-free Steelers with scantily clad teen masturbators. I cringe to think they'll do it again next week.


• People afraid to be alone. Of the marriages you're familiar with, how many would you actually want to be in? Two? One? None? Yet astoundingly...


• New cars. When my car is paid off, I'm thinking "This is where the savings really begin." Others think "Whoo-hoo! I can finance a flashier car!" I think these people are morons. I realize this is most folks, but still, I don't get it. If you want to set money on fire in the name of status and fashion, pay me to pretend I'm your gay boyfriend.


• Girlfriend insta-fans. Just because I root for the Steelers does not give you license to wear a sweatshirt and refer to the team as "we." Seriously. Shhh. Want to watch the games with me? Fantastic! I'll happily tell you tales of team lore, and maybe one day you too will get nauseous in the playoffs. But that day is not anytime soon.


• The empty vessel. A superset of the insta-fan. You know this person. Every time they couple with someone new, their interests and values change wholesale. Hobbies, dreams, politics, religion, sports teams, the whole schmear. Some of that is natural—this is, after all, the most influential person in our lives. But I'm talking about revolution, not evolution. When a few weeks into the new relationship you no longer even know the person, you wonder if you ever did.
• The soft luck case. These people bemoan their horrible circumstances to someone who's enjoyed a paltry fraction of their advantages. I've been on both sides of this equation, I'm ashamed to admit. I've said it before; I'll say it again: by the time you turn 25, anything wrong with your life is your own fault. You own your problems, or rather, you should. You're disadvantaged? Congratulations. You're a member of a large and inclusive club. Stop blaming, step up, shut up. If your problems persist, then here's my shoulder. Cry away.

posted by john at 11:50 AM  •  permalink