Today I'm going to try returning to the spirit with which I started these posts—no deteling. See—no deleting. We're already behaving.

I deviated a bit from that in the past couple weeks. I didn't censor the content much, but I did spell-check and I definitely over-thought things more than I initially wanted to.

So let's try again from the top!

This week I want to start with a thought on entitlemtent. Entitlement. Shoot, I might need to slow down my typing...I'm sloppier than normal.

I often (and easily) feel entitled to things. I don't know if it's more or less than the average person, but it's definitely something I've become aware of.

I'll give you an example: I feel entitled to the place I'm currently living. Which is kind of hilarious.

My sister offered up her townhouse (and her partner went along with it) so I could get a taste of life in Vancouver. It's been one month now. I feel like this is my townhouse. That's how fast that happened.

PS: Kelsey, if you're reading this, I know this is not my house—logically. But still, there's a knee-jerk reaction of, "heyyy but this is my home," when it's "trespassed" on. That's insane.

As I said: I don't know if that feeling comes quicker or stronger for me than the average person. BUT, I definitely see a lot of entitled people running around and complaining nowadays.

Specifically referring to everyone crying over cancel culture and their twitter accounts being in jeopardy.

Before I go on: I empathized with the plight. I guess I still do. It would suck to be a conservative voicebox right now. I imagine a whole lot of people feel as though their opinions aren't allowed in public discourse.

(Most of them are also dicks though—and some are dangerous—so I don't feel too bad.)

ANYWAY. (Tangents are going to be more common as I return to no-delete-mode.)

People conflate their "freedom of speech" with the amplification of their voice online. That's how entitled they've become. They think they're owed a megaphone in the form of Twitter—like it's their right to have their "controversial" / "alternative" views (often code for insensitive, ignorant, and again—dangerous) blasted out into the homes of millions of people.

By a private corporation that clearly disagrees with their views.

If I were Jack Dorsey or the folks at Twitter (or ay other social platform), I'd lean into that, by the way. You're left-leaning organizations. You're socially progressive. You're inclusive as hell. You open to change. You don't have to be un-biased. If you decided to ban anyone who speaks out against universal basic income, go ahead. (I mean, that would probably be a bad idea...but it's your prerogative.)

The entitlement has run so deep we don't realize it exists at all. I guess that's usually how entitlement works though...

Imagine Twitter decided to charge a fee to use its platform though. Imagine the outrage it would spark. So many people feel they deserve free access to each others' views. We've gotten so used to social media being free. It would seem like a crime for them to take that away.

I myself questioned if some social media sites need to be deemed part of the "public space" that free speech laws protect. They've become so integral with how we communicate—we must be allowed free access to them.

That's entitlement. Imagine telling a private company they're not allowed to charge for their services because their customers like them so much.

Or imagine they decided to make the platforms family-friendly. Everything had to go through a PG-13 filter. If you swore, you were banned. How can you tell a company they're not allowed to make their platform safer for children? And yet how many people would be up in arms about their freedoms being taken away?

That's entitlement.

I have no other point than that. I've just decided that when I see someone complaining about "cancel culture" and being "deplatformed," I'm just going to think, "you entitled little brat."

And I will also do my best to check mine, because I am aware this is not my home. Kelsey, if you read this, I will welcome you back gracefully when you get back, and I will leave gracefully when your hospitality runs out.

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OK That's part one.

Part two is about talking to people you disagree with.

I posted something about this back in September, but want to explore it further. What I said then was:

"Before you get swept away in debate, ask yourself: what are our assumptions?"

Thius post on my instagram was in reference to the anti-scientific rhetoric travelling around this past year. How do you have a conversation with someone who's anti-mask? Figure out what they don't believe to be true about the efficacy of masks first, before you go anywhere else with the conversation.

This was brought up for me again when I watched some of the Marjorie Taylor Greene shenanigans in congress (was it congress? I have no idea how the states' system works. She's a U.S. representative in Georgia.)

If you know nothing about her: she was a Q-Anon believing, Sandy Hook denying politician who recently got elected on platforms like arming students in school and abolishing abortion.

She's a loon.

But the way she talked about her view on abortion got me thinking: you cannot have a "pro-choice" conversation with this woman when she literally believes abortion is the same as murdering children.

She believes there is no difference between terminating a pregnancy at eight weeks and killing an eight week old child.

There is no conversation to be had until that belief is addressed.

This, to me, is a perfect example of understanding where each other is coming from before you get carried away in debate. Because this woman sounds like a religious nutcase. (And OK, she IS a nutcase.) But at the heart of this particular issue, the biggest thing is: we disagree on the definition of "child" and the definition of "murder."

We could get lost in arguments about body automony, but that's not what the disagreement is about. I'm sure if you asked MTG (I wonder if anyone calls her that) if she thinks women should be able to do whatever they want with their own body, she'd say yes.

Actually that might not be true. She might be too religious for that, thinking tattoos are also a sin...

But others like her, who are staunchly pro-life and slightly less zealotous (is that a word? It'd be a good one, if it is) would agree on a woman's right to choose all kinds of things.

But we're talking about murdering children.

Hell, I don't care how liberal you are—I'm sure you also disavow killing children. I'm sure you'd agree we shouldn't let parents decide if their two-year-old should live or die. We intervene to prevent murder. That's not crazy.

So you can't counter pro-life arguments with pro-choice arguments. You have to meet someone where your fundamental assumptions diverge. Otherwise, you're both saying things that, in isolation, you probably agree on.

Everyone thinks killing kids is bad.

Everyone thinks you should have autonomy of your own body.

So where's the disagreement?

"Oh, you believe life starts at conception? OK let's start there."

"Oh, you believe ending human life is always tantamount to murder? We can talk about that."

Granted: sometimes you can't talk about it. If someone is religiously motivated, there's not much to argue with. "I believe your interpretation of what the God you believe in wants is wrong." Kind of a non-starter. In that instance, I guess just don't have the conversation at all. Let them yell into a vaccuum.

IN SUMMARY: (lol)

Don't argue with someone about two completely different things. It makes no sense if one person is trying to talk about killing children and one person is talking about body autonomy. There will never be a meeting of minds if you're having different conversations.

And that's Sunday! Now, go enjoy some Football. (I'm talking to myself, I suppose, as I don't imagine many people will get the chance to read this before the Superbowl starts.)

Love ya!

John