Page Twenty-five, website outline
Like the relating of things Matthew told me about my life, and things he did, remorse is a very touchy subject with people. And like so many other things, it has trickled down from the psychobabble boneheads to the general population that remorse = guilt = bad. You are not supposed to feel remorse, because remorse is just a squeak away from guilt, and guilt is something we don’t feel anymore. We don’t let anyone guilt-trip us anymore.
In my own alternately wired, autistic mind I see remorse as something we feel when we truly believe we haven’t behaved according to our own definition of right and wrong, whatever that happens to be. We are acknowledging to ourselves that we haven’t held to our own code. If we acknowledge it to ourselves, and another person has been involved in this breaking of our own code, then it follows that, however difficult, we need to acknowledge it to that other person too.
And this is my premise for concluding that Turners Falls denizens either have no moral code whatsoever, or they have codes so skewed that I myself could never call these notions moral codes at all. Back in the fall of 2009, one Turners Fallsite told me she was sorry she hadn’t come to get me out of the little park when I was living there in 2008. I almost cried. One person from a whole townful of people apologized for leaving me in that park. I was moved.
Well, I needn’t have bothered being moved. Over the course of the ensuing month, this person turned out to be yet another Turners Falls wingnut, drama queen, actress, phony. I can’t take anything she said seriously. So my one apology from a person in this burg has been erased back down to zero. There have been no others, and I don’t expect there ever will be. All I get is more shunning, more gossiping done about me, more subtle forms of bullying and harassment. Moral code has never seemed to be a concept in this town, not since I came here in 1985.
And the whole nobody’s-gonna-guilt-trip-me thing seems to be very widespread in our culture now. People do not apologize much anymore over anything. There seems to be a tremendous reluctance among amerikans to admit to any kind of wrongdoing at all, as if admitting such a thing would be a complete annihilation of their adolescent, ridiculously fragile egos.
Update: I wrote this post early in 2010, before I had moved back to Turners on April 1. Now it’s 2011. I’m back here for nine months, and still not one single Turners troll who left me living in that park in 2008 has expressed one syllable of remorse. Not one of the trolls who was part of disappearing my animals has said a single I’m sorry, nor has any one of them told me where and when my various animals were given the lethal injection. One of them did, however, show up on one of my blog posts in October 2010, using a phony name, to criticize me for criticizing the denizens of Turners Falls. They cannot spit out a single word of remorse, but they can despise me for my hurt, my anger, and my bitterness towards them.
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read… Poison and snowflake trees… Braon…
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