Judgement vs. Criticism: A Meditation

Here's how it went down:

I posted this on Facebook:

All Christians should take a shot at reading the Gospels. They're really quite enlightening. Some may be surprised to read that the Jesus guy they are always referring to never once condoned hate, judgment of others or violence in any form. In fact, rumor has it He was kind of against all of those things...

This was received favorably by most of my friends, both religious and non-religious. I had posted it as a reaction to some moron in the news pulling some kind of Westboro Baptist Church nonsense. 

Then, I posted, on Monday, about Game of Thrones -- about how I was tired of the show and books and that it had started to wear thin with me because (among numerous other things) I stopped caring about a character who was, to me, heinous and unlikable. 

I shared the link on Facebook and some agreed and some did not agree with my assessment of the show, which is to be expected (and encouraged). But one of my friends pointed out that, in her opinion, what I said about the character in the show (about his being heinous and, therefore, unworthy of my continuing attention) contradicted my previous Facebook post against being judgmental. 

Did it, I wonder? Maybe. Maybe not, depending on the unraveling of semantics. (By the way, to a guy with a linguistics minor, "semantics" are not, as they seem to be to some others, trivialities -- they are important, fine shades of meaning.)

To me, there are two semantic issues here: 1) I think that being "judgmental" and being "critical" are two different things; 2) At a certain point, calling a person heinous for his actions ceases to be "judgmental" and turns into pointing out the way things are. Some things, after all, are inexcusable and should (to me) cause some kind of lifelong damage to a person's reputation.

Point the first: 

Why I am Finished with Game of Thrones

I made it through two books and I thought to myself, Okay -- that's enough. This would make a pretty good TV series, but I don't need to read it anymore. Then, the TV series came out and I though, Hm. This is pretty good, but I can see it wearing thin after awhile. Well, it wore thin. Last night I decided that I have had quite enough of Game of Thrones, in whatever form. 

Many people don't know that George R.R. Martin was a pretty reputable (and award-winning) science fiction writer before he began writing the A Song of Ice and Fire books (the series of which A Game of Thrones is the first novel). He's a pro and certainly no fresh-faced youngster breaking through with an accidental literary phenomenon. But...I like his sci-fi better than his fantasy.

A friend of mine stopped reading the series because he found it ugly. He quickly got sick of the preponderance of sexual content and the ruthlessness of some of the characters. He stopped after the first book. I went through the second, but bailed out after that.

The story started to mushroom out into directions that, instead of making it feel complex, made it, to me, feel diluted. I still question whether Martin can (or will even attempt to) draw his various lines to any kind of conclusion. There is always the argument that good literature doesn't seek out neat endings "because life just isn't like that"...that not every novel has to wrap up as neatly as a Dickens book...but, as in music, my mental ear needs to feel as if melodies are going somewhere...anywhere. I just didn't feel any sense of direction from the first two novels.

Charlie

Lewis Hine, 1909

Now that I have decided to publish my "senior farewell" poems here, I suppose I will share last year's; kind of work backward. I will take a break after this one -- too many of these in a row could get tedious, I suppose.

One day, some time during 2013, I heard an old man ask his grandchild what he wanted to "be" when he grew up and it struck me how strange it is that we immediately think of jobs when we ask and are asked that question -- as if our jobs are our personal identity -- what we are. Why don't we ask, "What do you want to do?"In a way, it is a kind of brainwashing, isn't it? Well, not if you have a grandfather like Charlie's...

Charlie

No one knew Grandfather was magical,

But Charlie knew.

No one knew Grandfather had a box with a secret, inside --

The way to be happy forever.

But Charlie knew.

The Trick Is Not Forgetting

This year, I'm going to do this. Year after year, as part of our graduation exercises at our school, I write the "Senior Farewell Poem." I read it to the senior class in front of the entire school and in front of maybe a hundred parents. It's one of my favorite writing tasks.

But, I admit -- I haven't published them here because I come from a long line of stuffy English majors who would see the kind of poems I write for graduates as a kind of "pop" poetry -- a little too "out in the open". But the fact is, these poems need to be grasped at a listening by an audience that is not reading along and that doesn't have time to explicate. That, in and of itself, is quite a writing challenge. And I have decided I am proud of (I think) accomplishing it each year. In fact, I plan to add a page to this site that contains all of my "Senior Farewell" poems over the last thirteen years. But now, my poem for the Class of 2014:

Of course! Of course! Of course!

Granted, I am more sensitive than many to language -- I mean, spend most days immersed in it, whether writing, teaching or reading. As a result, I often see things that seem not to be a big deal to others and then proceed to make a big deal out of them. This one is brand new and I am not sure if it has gotten out of New Jersey yet...

In my area, I have noticed that waitresses and waiters have become addicted to the phrase,"Of course." The other night, for instance, we went to kind of an upscale burger joint for dinner. It is in the town where I grew up; a town that has developed an inflated sense of its own importance as time has gone on -- so much so that they offer valet parking at what used to be a simple shopping mall with bike racks outside.

I kid you not with the following dialogue -- it is no exaggeration.