Nothing to See Here - Nov 19 2023

 

Nothing to See Here

Nov 19 2023

Sometimes, it's what isn't said

that's most telling.

Perhaps your silence is well-meant;

avoiding offence,

or sensible enough

to know you don't yet

know enough to say.

But more likely

it's to protect yourself.

Because when regrets don't count,

and intent

which is everything

doesn't even register,

they will surely second-guess

unfairly infer.

So you wisely refrain.

Edit, filter, suppress.

An opinion on everything,

yet you keep them to yourself.

Which isn't easy

in this cacophonous age

of loudmouths and self-promoters,

when sensation ratchets up

and attention is for sale.

When we're all self-appointed experts

on whatever it is,

oracles

and historians

and perfectly informed;

solipsists

obliged to share our wisdom

with the many loyal followers

waiting breathless to hear.

When we're expected to pronounce

on everything and anything

lest we be judged

   —  as if anyone really cares

or anything will change.

And when we've become so needy for approval

we feel compelled

to demonstrate our virtue

to a self-righteous world

talking back to itself.

And then, the conspiracies of silence

when we tacitly concur.

Like the naked emperor

or elephant in the room,

all of us

prudently pretending

nothing to see here.

Which is why I’m tempted

to read between the lines

fill in the silences.

Ignore

the anodyne statements

and empty bafflegab.

Because the truth

is somewhere in there.

Because what isn't said

more often than not

says so much more than words.

Mostly, a diatribe against social media.

In a wired age, when even sausage and jelly bean companies feel compelled to issue mushy pious statements about every news event; and when every nonentity with a social media account, informed or not, feels compelled to have an instant opinion for public consumption.

The trouble is, if you say nothing then everyone will read who-knows-what into your silence.

Of course, with my utterly hermetic life and no social media, I escape all this nonsense. I have strong opinions on most things. I like to think they're thoughtful and well-informed. But I'm humble enough to realize that what I think doesn't matter — actions, not words, are all that count. And, aside from that, I keep my opinions mostly to myself.

The poem was inspired by seeing how every individual and institution seemed to feel compelled to make some sort of public pronouncement about the Israel-Hamas war. And more proximately, how everyone is reading between the lines and reflecting their own bias in the latest speech by Trudeau; a speech that struck me as sensible, middle of the road, and uncontroversial. A forgettable speech should have mercifully slipped under the radar, as does most public speaking by congenitally risk averse politicians.

For me, the most important thing take from this poem is the line about intent. Because that's what's missing in the pile-on frenzy of “cancel culture”: intent really IS everything!