My Thoughts
Have you ever walked up on a rattlesnake? Have you ever looked into the eyes of a grizzly bear? Have you ever offered a hand to a crocodile? If you have, how did that experience work out for you? Seriously. The reason I ask is it seems to me, most people who have been confronted with something so deadly, so frightening—and live to tell about it do so recognizing the immediate danger and reacting in such a way as to remove themselves from the danger entirely or by mitigating the situation, like turning tail and running away, climbing a tree or shooting the varmint before it grabs hold of you. Sounds fair. But then, there is always the fool …
The fool looks at the situation and denies the danger, denies the facts then in evidence. That rattlesnake is not really a rattlesnake at all, but a harmless garter snake; that grizzly bear is just a great big teddy bear wanting a hug; the crocodile simply wants to nuzzle.
I am reminded of the old aphorism “Curiosity killed the cat,” though it would seem more accurate to say what killed the cat was a curiously complete lack of curiosity. I am also reminded of one of Aesop’s fables, The Scorpion and the Frog. Perhaps you have read it before, but just in case you never have, here it is (it’s brief).
A scorpion and a frog meet on the bank of a stream and the scorpion asks the frog to carry him across on its back. The frog asks, “How do I know you won’t sting me?” The scorpion says, “Because if I do, I will die too.”
The frog is satisfied, and they set out, but in midstream, the scorpion stings the frog. The frog feels the onset of paralysis and starts to sink, knowing they both will drown, but has just enough time to gasp “Why?”
Replies the scorpion: “It’s my nature…”
Years and years ago, some fifty-five years ago to be more precise, I thought I might become a journalist. After all, my mother was a journalist, besides being mother to a whole passel full of rug rats and curtain crawlers (eleven to be exact,) so how hard could it be? Didn’t take long for me to realize I did not have the nose to smell a skunk, so I moved on to other things. It is the nose, which is crucial for any journalist, the nose to smell a story, to dig deep and wide to uncover the facts, no matter how unpleasant, no matter how disagreeable.
A journalist must above all else have a humongous, insatiable curiosity, a driving need to discover the truth behind the lie, to find stories that are “curiouser and curiouser” as Alice said, to dare ask questions without fear of the answers. Those who would call themselves journalist these days have killed their cat with a curiously complete lack of curiosity, asking questions to confirm their confirmation bias, to prove their preconceived narratives, and to conceal the uncomfortable truths of their duplicitous complicity. Journalists now willingly carry the scorpion on their back, refusing to believe what is in its nature.
These are desperate times, and desperate times call for honesty and truth. I used to read the newspaper; no longer do I subscribe. I used to watch the nightly news; no more do I bother to waste my time. As Qoheleth said, “Vanity of vanities, vanity of vanities! All is vanity” (Eccl 1:2).
Wakeup America.
Just my thoughts for a Thursday, for what it is worth.
