It’s coming for ME

I’d like to pretend it’s for some high moral reason, but deep down it is more basic that that.

I hate censorship.

I hate it with a cold terror. Because when censorship starts, it is coming for me. I know it. I can feel the teeth in the wind of the first rumors. It’s after my neck.

Sure there are people who say horrible things, reprehensible and hateful things. Things I think should not be said, and I wish they would stop.

But then again, I have learned from things I once despised. And I’ve learned to understand the reasons for the reprehensible even as it is spoken. It’s worth the examination and the exploration in daylight.

When it is silenced, it silences me.

Cornered, cast out, crushed and eliminated. Death and destruction. Silence and censorship.

The cutting off is dangerous and it’s coming for me.

All ideas come from ignorance. I start with half and idea, ill formed and incomplete. Maybe it’s so wrong it needs to be discarded. Maybe there is something to it. I play with the new ideas and see which one are useful, which ones are true and bring good things to me.

I’m noting but ignorant. If I cant’ start from my ignorance I can’t start at all.

I can’t learn from my ignorance—the one thing I have plently of—if censorship stops my beginnings.

NOT THERE, warns the spirit of censorship.
YOU ARE IN DANGER the censor warns

And I cannot move without consulting some other changeable spirit who does not have my best interests in mind.

How can the censor have my interests in mind? I am not allowed to speak them.

I’ve studied this censor for many years. There are some commonalities and some tricks the censor uses. This helps me recognize them sooner.

I’ve been watching the censor snip and cut, silence and bite these last years. It was mid January, 2020 that I called my friend. A close friend, once I’d known for years and spoken with several times each week.

I said I was scared. I was scared of the censorship and when I saw that President Trump had been deplatformed I knew they were coming for me.

The Twitter files talk about how that happened, and we’ve gotten to see behind the decision made by the executives of twitter.

We didn’t know that then. I knew fear. I was writing

PROTECT FREE SPEECH

On cards and leaving them around my neighborhood.

It felt powerless and ineffective but I was compelled to do
SOMETHING

I was crying to my friend saying I was scared.

She said “I believe in the first Amendment but that man is wrong and he must be silenced.”
And she hung up on me. We’ve never spoken again.

I was sad. I missed her—still miss her—terribly.

The censor cuts, searing off redemption. The censor is certain, no room for ambiguity.

Wonder cannot survive without questioning. and I need both

I’d like to pretend it’s for some high moral reason, but deep down it is more basic that that.

I hate censorship.

I hate it with a cold terror. Because when censorship starts, it is coming for me. I know it. I can feel the teeth in the wind of the first rumors. It’s after my neck.

Sure, there are people who say horrible things, reprehensible and hateful things. Things I think should not be said, and I wish they would stop.

But then again, I have learned from things I once despised. And I’ve learned to understand the reasons for the reprehensible even as it is spoken. It’s worth the examination and the exploration in daylight.

When it is silenced, it silences me.

Cornered, cast out, crushed and eliminated. Death and destruction. Silence and censorship.

The cutting off is dangerous and it’s coming for me.

All ideas come from ignorance. I start with half and idea, ill formed and incomplete. Maybe it’s so wrong it needs to be discarded. Maybe there is something to it. I play with the new ideas and see which ones are useful, which ones are true and bring good things to me.

I’m noting but ignorant. If I can’t start from my ignorance I can’t start at all.

I can’t learn from my ignorance—the one thing I have plently of—if censorship stops my beginnings.

NOT THERE, warns the spirit of censorship.
YOU ARE IN DANGER the censor warns.

And I cannot move without consulting some other changeable spirit who does not have my best interests in mind.

How can the censor have my interests in mind? I am not allowed to speak them.

I’ve studied this censor for many years. There are some commonalities and some tricks the censor uses. This helps me recognize them sooner.

I’ve been watching the censor snip and cut, silence and bite these last years. It was mid January, 2020 that I called my friend. A close friend, once I’d known for years and spoken with several times each week.

I said I was scared. I was scared of the censorship and when I saw that the President had been de platformed, I knew they were coming for me.

The Twitter files talk about how that happened, and we’ve gotten to see behind the decision made by the executives of twitter.

We didn’t know that then. I knew fear. I wrote

PROTECT FREE SPEECH

On cards and left them around my neighborhood.

It felt powerless and ineffective but I was compelled to do

SOMETHING

On the phone, I was crying to my friend saying I was scared. 

She said “I believe in the first Amendment but that man is evil and he must be silenced.”

And she hung up on me.

That censor spirit cut us apart. It had come for me so fast, my fears so quickly realized.

I missed her—still miss her—terribly. Silence continues, there was no way back to relationship.

The censor cuts, searing off redemption. The censor is certain, no room for ambiguity.

No room for me in the censors’ world.

Yet I am here. I have to find a way to be. That friend is not the only friend I’ve lost to this spirit. This is a tragedy. Connection to people is important to me.

I choose not to cooperate with the censor.

The lure is strong. What if I could get enough people together to make that other group feel the cut that I felt? How satisfying that would be! Perhaps we could begin to develop shibboleths and secret gathering places to get the strength to slice the enemy deeply.

No, I don’t want to slice. I want to be connected. I want to explore the world with other people, people with new ideas—necessarily different from my own—to see what is possible.

It takes courage to make connections. There is a risk and a cost. I could lose what small connection I have. I could be left alone, cast out and rejected.  Can I withstand a rejection?

Here is where faith comes in—faith in myself and conviction that I must stay open. Openness is the opposite of censorship.

I will stay open, as hard as it is, in counter to the censorship I hate. I choose acceptance.