A Post That Makes No Sense
The calm before the dawn
The dark before the storm
It’s a form of control, of manipulation. There’s even a word for it:
Vaguebooking is any update on a social network (although primarily Facebook) that is intentionally vague. Status updates which fall under the category of vaguebooking can be long or short, but most comprise just a few simple words.
It’s the misunderstood, hiding in their shadows and lost in their own crisis, crying out, “Help me without me asking for it.” We are imploring for someone to introduce our own deus ex machina to magically “make it all better.”
And yet, we cannot look away. We cannot walk away. Too often we have heard the stories, “If only I’d known,” “I didn’t realize she was crying for help.” So, we engage. We write back, “What’s wrong? Can I help? Call me.” And for those truly in danger, we help. We give them what they want. For the simply manipulative, well, we also give them what they want. We dance as they pull the puppet strings. And like the little boy who cried wolf, they laugh. They laugh as we come running with our comfort and our understanding.
I’ve never been to war. My brother served, although his unit was never called up. My daughter is serving now, although she’s in grad school and unlikely to see combat. But, I read. I devour stories of wars and battles; heroes and cowards.
I try to imagine what it’s like, as the landing craft makes it way toward the beach. The thick steel plate providing a measure of cover until it doesn’t and the soldiers scramble, some to engage the enemy, some simply to get out of what has become a kill box.
What did that soldier think, feel, as he huddled in his foxhole waiting for the expected enemy attack? Knowning he was safer standing still, but the adrenaline pumping through his veins screaming for movement, any movement. And yet, to move was to die. Safety and ultimately victory rested with his, and every other soldier’s ability to be still when every impulse was to run.
Being a patient
Is my indecision base on cowardice or caution? Am I the hero waiting for the right moment to act, or am I a member of the chorus? A nameless, faceless Star Fleet officer in a red shirt?
I’m sorry if this didn’t make sense. I did try to warn you.
Rodney M Bliss is an author, columnist and IT Consultant. His blog updates every weekday. He lives in Pleasant Grove, UT with his lovely wife, thirteen children and grandchildren.
(c) 2017 Rodney M Bliss, all rights reserved