Arrogant people get on my nerves. Closed-minded people, however, make me want to spartan kick innocent puppies into vast lakes of molten lava.
Yeah, I said it.
I don’t know… Maybe it’s because I’m a formerly atheist, lower-class, biracial woman but there’s just something about certain people—specifically those who judgmentally dismiss anything even remotely close to challenging their beliefs—that sets an unquenchable fire beneath my free-thinking behind.
Call me old-fashioned, but I can’t help but believe that some sort of mutual respect ought to exist between people despite their differences—whether they be moral, religious, economic or social. And while the lack of aforementioned respect applies to just about every facet of societal issues today, the one that really burns my biscuits can be found nestled gently in the chest of literary critics.
Fear not, though. I’m no Republican. I don’t glorify generalizations and I promise not to throw all of you in the same category and rip you apart as punishment for treasonous association. Instead, I want to address the elite—the ones who stand upon self-made pedestals and declare their own preferred genres as superior to the rest.
The ones who claim that my blog should not be considered seriously as an art form.
Not only do I resent such nonsensical claims, I also reserve my God-given right to cyber slap you.
*Ka-POW!*
(I hope it hurt, too.)
In all seriousness, please try and understand what I’m throwing out here.
As a poet, I celebrate the artistic genius of Emily Dickinson and Walt Whitman. I get excited about reading incredible pieces by Santa Teresa de Jesus and José Asunción Silva.
As a writer, I read the news instead of watching or listening to it. I recognize the power of journalism and all that it encompasses.
As a writer, I have an incredible respect for the written word. On any given day, you can find my sarcastic nose hidden within the cover of works by Hawthorne, Shakespeare and Emerson. I cherish the ingenuity of Edgar Allen Poe.
But, as a writer, I recognize that not all news can be reported through a journal—that not all meaning can be wrapped within the walls of a story or beauty within the delicate shell of a poem.
And so, to put it bluntly, I consider it a colossal Hulk smash to the face when people who share my appreciation for these things reject my preferred avenue of expression as worthless and without significance simply because it is different.
In case you weren’t aware, men have been persecuting status quo violators for centuries. They did it with Copernicus, they did it with Jesus and Hitler did it with the Jews.
Just because something challenges our perceptions of the norm does not make it dangerous. And just because it threatens change does not make it heresy.
Newsflash: The fact that what’s held upon your silver spoon doesn’t particularly agree with your taste doesn’t mean it’s nasty. Perhaps your palate is simply developmentally delayed.
Am I comparing myself to literary greats like Silva or Emerson? Of course not! As a matter of fact, I’ll be the first to admit that the hairs on their chin most likely had more artistic capability and creativity than I could ever dream to possess.
I am, however, letting you know that we share a common desire.
In the end, my goal is not to offend, though I may. My goal is not to persuade, though I might. My goal, as it turns out, is not even to inspire (though I pray that I do at some point).
You see, I have found that the greatest writers—the most impactful writers—are not the most persuasive, abrasive or inspirational. The greatest writers are those who make you think… Who challenge your world view and open your eyes to what has previously been unknown, unappreciated or undeservingly ignored.
So, if my style doesn’t correlate with your opinion of greatness, that’s okay. If what I say offends people—if it makes them upset or ruffles their feathers a bit—I can live with that. When all is said and done, my voice will matter if it challenges and accentuates the beauty found in theirs.
That is what I hope to do.
That is why blog matters.
That is why your opinion is an endless pool of elephant crap.
Feel free to take a swim.
Yeah, I said it.
I don’t know… Maybe it’s because I’m a formerly atheist, lower-class, biracial woman but there’s just something about certain people—specifically those who judgmentally dismiss anything even remotely close to challenging their beliefs—that sets an unquenchable fire beneath my free-thinking behind.
Call me old-fashioned, but I can’t help but believe that some sort of mutual respect ought to exist between people despite their differences—whether they be moral, religious, economic or social. And while the lack of aforementioned respect applies to just about every facet of societal issues today, the one that really burns my biscuits can be found nestled gently in the chest of literary critics.
Fear not, though. I’m no Republican. I don’t glorify generalizations and I promise not to throw all of you in the same category and rip you apart as punishment for treasonous association. Instead, I want to address the elite—the ones who stand upon self-made pedestals and declare their own preferred genres as superior to the rest.
The ones who claim that my blog should not be considered seriously as an art form.
Not only do I resent such nonsensical claims, I also reserve my God-given right to cyber slap you.
*Ka-POW!*
(I hope it hurt, too.)
In all seriousness, please try and understand what I’m throwing out here.
As a poet, I celebrate the artistic genius of Emily Dickinson and Walt Whitman. I get excited about reading incredible pieces by Santa Teresa de Jesus and José Asunción Silva.
As a writer, I read the news instead of watching or listening to it. I recognize the power of journalism and all that it encompasses.
As a writer, I have an incredible respect for the written word. On any given day, you can find my sarcastic nose hidden within the cover of works by Hawthorne, Shakespeare and Emerson. I cherish the ingenuity of Edgar Allen Poe.
But, as a writer, I recognize that not all news can be reported through a journal—that not all meaning can be wrapped within the walls of a story or beauty within the delicate shell of a poem.
And so, to put it bluntly, I consider it a colossal Hulk smash to the face when people who share my appreciation for these things reject my preferred avenue of expression as worthless and without significance simply because it is different.
In case you weren’t aware, men have been persecuting status quo violators for centuries. They did it with Copernicus, they did it with Jesus and Hitler did it with the Jews.
Just because something challenges our perceptions of the norm does not make it dangerous. And just because it threatens change does not make it heresy.
Newsflash: The fact that what’s held upon your silver spoon doesn’t particularly agree with your taste doesn’t mean it’s nasty. Perhaps your palate is simply developmentally delayed.
Am I comparing myself to literary greats like Silva or Emerson? Of course not! As a matter of fact, I’ll be the first to admit that the hairs on their chin most likely had more artistic capability and creativity than I could ever dream to possess.
I am, however, letting you know that we share a common desire.
In the end, my goal is not to offend, though I may. My goal is not to persuade, though I might. My goal, as it turns out, is not even to inspire (though I pray that I do at some point).
You see, I have found that the greatest writers—the most impactful writers—are not the most persuasive, abrasive or inspirational. The greatest writers are those who make you think… Who challenge your world view and open your eyes to what has previously been unknown, unappreciated or undeservingly ignored.
So, if my style doesn’t correlate with your opinion of greatness, that’s okay. If what I say offends people—if it makes them upset or ruffles their feathers a bit—I can live with that. When all is said and done, my voice will matter if it challenges and accentuates the beauty found in theirs.
That is what I hope to do.
That is why blog matters.
That is why your opinion is an endless pool of elephant crap.
Feel free to take a swim.