When the underprivileged are not political

I often hear the opinion that saying “I’m not political”, or choosing to avoid conversations about politics, is an act of privilege. That only sheltered people have the option of non-involvement. I would agree that if you’re personally effected by an issue, you are far more likely to care about it. I also recognize that people who are poor, or non-white, or immigrants, or women, or not straight, are often judged as “being political” when they’re just relaying their everyday experiences, because their existence itself is deemed political. All of this is true. But there are also ways in which marginalization can prevent political focus. Here are some examples.

A person who is homeless and living on the street is more likely to be focused on the basics of everyday survival than on contemplating political topics. If you’re expending all your time and energy trying to find food and shelter, you’re not going to spend hours reading about politics on the internet. You (most likely) won’t attend marches. You don’t have money to donate to causes, and can’t boycott products because you need to take what you can get.

Back in the fall of 2011, I was involved with the Occupy movement in New Haven. I’m glad to have taken part, as I learned a lot and met some wonderful people. Many of them made efforts to give to the homeless people on the New Haven green, which was good. They gave them food and offered a media platform to those who wanted one. But not every homeless person was enthusiastic. Some of the Occupiers were sleeping in tents on the green, and a homeless woman informed me she didn’t like it because “me and my friends need this space.” There was a notable moment when a fellow Occupier tried to high-five a homeless man in solidarity. He shook his head, clearly not enjoying the gesture. I’m not going to assume that none of the homeless people cared about politics, but many were too focused on their immediate needs to invest themselves in philosophical theories and keep up on current events.

If a person is not homeless but still living in urgent poverty, they may be too busy to pay attention to politics, get involved in community organizations, or similar things. They could be working so many hours that they barely have time to sleep, let alone dedicate large blocks of time to an ideology.

Additionally, mental health can play into this. I know people who disengage from social justice issues and choose not to involve themselves in political conversations—not because they’re apathetic, but because it will throw them into a psychological crisis. Extensive involvement in these things can be very detrimental to some peoples’ mental health, particularly if they struggle with depression, anxiety, PTSD, or agoraphobia. There are people with these conditions who choose to be involved, and that’s perfectly fine. But I respect the choice to disengage for their own well-being. Sometimes the ones who are most impacted by these topics are the ones who most need to pick and choose their battles, or else they strain themselves to the breaking point.

Some who are impacted by these social issues don’t have access to education that will teach them about it. Some are politically invested, but not liberal. I know people of marginalized identities who have right-wing values. Some don’t have the time, and others care so much that it drains them and they need to maintain distance for the sake of their health.

Many privileged people are involved in politics—and that can be a problem when they’re out of touch with others. It’s true that privilege can also play into non-involvement or apathy, but it can be more complicated than that.

How "edgy" kids become Neo Nazis, and how they can stop

            Last night I saw photos of swastikas that had been spray painted onto Wilbur Cross High School’s athletic complex, accompanied by the (misspelled) word “Trump.” This happened in the same town where I went to high school and college. It wasn’t surprising, but unnerving to see so close to home. No one knows who did it. This could be the work of committed Neo Nazis, and an unsettling indication that they’re operating in Connecticut. However, I have a strong inkling that it was the work of wannabe-edgy kids who thought it would be a funny prank.

            The latter would not, in any way, be excusable. But here on the left, some of us have a tendency to say that everyone drawing swastikas is the same. While not justifying the behavior, I think it’s helpful to examine the different motives so we can dismantle its foundation, wherever it comes from.

            I believe there are two groups of people defacing public property with racist and anti-Semitic graffiti. One group consists of adult Neo Nazis who are dedicated, zealous, and possibly physically violent. The other group consists of a distinct subset of nihilistic young people who want to be rebels. The second demographic can easily grow into the first. 

            I was one of those teenagers. I personally didn't do all of the following things, but this was our general demeanor: We were the kids who called others “sheeple.” Our attitude was, “Caring about stuff isn’t cool. Nothing really matters, and committing yourself to ideals is lame” (not acknowledging that spray painting graffiti or spending hours trolling online forums is commitment). We generally saw efforts to be culturally sensitive as self-righteous “political correctness,” and thought it was disingenuous. That being said, we didn’t consider ourselves the traditionally conservative right. We disliked patriotism, Christianity, police, and the military, but our reasons differed from why many liberals may distrust those institutions. Our objections were based on resentment of authority and disdain for anything impassioned. Back in the early 2000s, we hated Bush just as much as we liked Eric Cartman. We didn’t think homosexuality was immoral, but we thought it was funny to call straight people "fags" as a general term for "annoying person." And we saw this mentality as unique and independent, despite the fact that popular TV shows and entire lines of merchandize catered to us. 

            An ironic aspect was that while many of us tried to echo Nietzsche, we fundamentally misunderstood what he was about. Nietzsche may have believed life to be meaningless, but not worthless. He thought we could ascribe our own meanings. He may have stared into the abyss, but he didn’t romanticize it.

            Although these kids scoff at enthusiastic ideals, they can be recruited into the Alt-Right if convinced that it’s countercultural and will offend the perceived rigid morality of the left. It appeals to their bitterness, as they see themselves as dispassionate but deny that bitterness is emotional. It appeals to their hatred of the more authoritarian branches of the left. In order to make any headway with this young crowd, we have to acknowledge that such a type of authoritarianism exists. It’s not the majority of liberals, but it does manifest in those who promote heavy censorship and want people arrested for expressing regressive beliefs. It exists in those who defend Communist dictators (whether or not they view them as true Communists), and those who think it’s useless to be liberal unless you’re radicalized. The Alt-Right reaches out to people with resentments of those things, and molds them from cynics to ardent zealots.

            While I was never a KKK or Neo Nazi sympathizer, I was certainly a cynic. I thought being offended was worse than being offensive. I thought it made me look tough to flippantly joke about suicide, self-mutilation, and rape, namely because those things had impacted my life. At the same time, this demeanor was something I aspired to more than something I actually was. In my eyes, it was armor more so than a weapon, although in practice it was both. It was a defense against trauma and severe depression, but the “nothing matters” stance made my depression a lot worse.

            At that point in life I would occasionally see swastikas drawn on walls, usually accompanied by pentagrams and a hastily scrawled “Hail Satan.” I never did this myself, but I didn’t take it seriously. It seemed like a parody. I regarded Nazis as equally alien and mythical as Satan. Some of the offenders who defaced walls with these symbols probably saw it the same way. While the "edgy" kids' brand of so-called humor and graffiti mimics that of self-proclaimed Nazis, I think this is the difference: People who define themselves as Nazis and are adamant about that cause are more likely to commit physical violence and to run for public office so they can enforce those ideas. People who see it as a joke are behaving terribly, but it may be easier to change their minds.

            One person who didn’t see this as a parody was my grandmother, Kiki, a child of Russian immigrants who came to the US to escape pogroms. She was not a Holocaust survivor, but she was a survivor of the Holocaust era. This happened in her most formative years. Kiki remembered that when news of the Holocaust first broke out, many Americans disbelieved it. They thought it was a paranoid conspiracy theory or a grand-scale tasteless joke. Then the photos and the interviews came out. Then the survivors started talking.

            My grandpa, Harold, recalled that many of the WWII servicemen didn’t consider their fight a noble defense of the Jews. A great deal were anti-Semitic themselves. When he first joined the Air Force at seventeen, an interviewer asked if he would defend the United States no matter what. He responded with “Not if it becomes fascist,” and was given two weeks of extra training for that answer. As a Depression-era Jew, he couldn’t afford the naïve jingoism that the government and media were selling.

            When I was very small, Kiki told me, “If somebody ever asks you what your religion is, never say that you’re Jewish. They will hate you for it, and they can put you on a list.” At the time, I thought that sounded crazy. Growing up, I was sometimes called a Jew as an insult. It used to just confuse me because it seemed so outdated, and because I didn’t even observe the religion. But to an anti-Semite, simply having Jewish heritage is enough to label you an enemy. I was largely ignorant about oppression because although I was recognized as Jewish, I was also white and upper middle class.

            Back in high school, Kiki and I had discussed affirmative action. I thought it was unnecessary, believing that systemic racism no longer existed. Kiki told me it was a way to level the playing field. She had witnessed so much discrimination toward other races during her youth that it was impossible for her to think that would disappear over one lifetime. She relayed stories of competition and hierarchies. Some of the Jewish people she’d known had ostracized other races because they wanted a group to socially one-up. They saw it in terms like, “We’re Jewish, but at least we’re not black.” Others were afraid to socially engage with other targeted groups because they didn’t want to be further persecuted by proxy. Kiki always hated this, and said that pitting marginalized groups against one another was one of the worst crimes of the elite. She believed all disenfranchised people should support each other. I didn’t know the concept at the time, but she was talking about intersectionality.

            Kiki and Harold influenced me more than they knew. I disagreed throughout my childhood and adolescence, but came around to their way of thinking in later years. I decided to make an effort to listen to the experiences of marginalized people, rather than dismiss their concerns as paranoia. I took classes on the intersections of gender, race, and class. My beliefs are not perfect, but I’m learning and unlearning. The things my grandparents said have been confirmed time and time again. In the wake of a Trump presidency, their words continue to resonate.

            After moving to Milford in 2008, I noticed anti-Semitic graffiti in the train station bathroom. Someone had written “Fuck Jews.” I took out a Sharpie and added, “Consensually.” Another time I was in a local diner and overheard a slew of teenagers making loud, bigoted jokes. One of them shouted out, “Yo, let’s get a bunch of Jews and throw them in a gas chamber and make them fuck each other in the ass!” I called out, “You’d like that, motherfuhrers.” They didn’t get the joke. Sometimes it works to deflect the situation with humor, to show how absurd the bigotry is. Other times, different approaches are in order.

            The kids in the diner seemed a lot farther gone than nihilistic. But kids who are nihilistic can change. Essentially, they are at a crossroad. They can be steered in the direction of passion; either the kind that’s progressive or that leaves a legacy of damage. To grow, they need to learn that opposing bigotry is subversive. They have to see that oppression is real and not an expression of tongue-in-cheek irony. They need to know people of the groups that are affected. They can grow by reading history and knowing it’s not restricted to the past. And they need to know that even if they believe ignorant things now, they’re not a hopeless case.

          Life, after all, isn’t pointless. Even Nietzsche didn’t think so.

I’ll start out by saying that the recent cop killings are deplorable. People should not have to fear being murdered because of their jobs. When an officer is shot in vengeance after they did something unconscionable—such as Jackie Neal of San Antonio, who was shot after raping a woman on the job—I have to admit there’s a certain sense of compensation. But that doesn’t mean vigilante justice is right or that killing is an acceptable response, especially when other cops are being shot for another’s offense. So I’m sorry to hear about what happened in Baton Rouge, as well as what happened in Dallas. 

That being said, it's a dangerous assumption to claim that if a person is critical of police officers in general, or simply outspoken against police brutality, or even professedly anti-cop, that it means they must want the police to be murdered. There are people I can’t stand, cop and non-cop alike, but that doesn’t mean I want them killed. I might be petty and wish any number of irritations upon them. I might want them to spill hot coffee on their lap or never find a parking space or only ever step on Legos when they’re barefoot. I might hope they get fired or dumped or face failure, but I don’t wish for them to die. That may not be healthy or mature of me. However, it’s not the same as condoning murder. 

To respond to criticisms of police with “Then you want all cops to die!” is to smother any dissenting opinion. Because then the person is not discussing their actual grievances with the police force or with police brutality; they’re stuck defending their right to voice those thoughts and assuring others that they’re not saying cops should be massacred. Some cops and police supporters might genuinely believe that to criticize a cop is to sign their death warrant, but others use this as a red herring.

Unfortunately, I have heard some on my side of the issue celebrating the murder of cops. I’ve seen statements like “No tears for dead cops,” which sounds more like a command than a personal sentiment. This disturbs me. But that perspective is not the norm coming from those who speak out against police brutality. Most have the mindset of, “We don’t want you to be killed. We want you to stop killing people.” Some have pointed out that if you believe being against police brutality is the same as being anti-cop, it’s like saying objection to child abuse makes you anti-parent.

I’ve heard the argument that speaking against the actions of specific police officers stirs up anti-cop hatred that leads to them getting murdered. The argument can be paraphrased as, “You understand that anti-gay hate speech leads to gay people getting murdered, but you don’t acknowledge the same about cops.” This would make sense, except that criticizing police brutality and racial profiling doesn’t amount to hate speech, and the people who target LGBT people often do so because they literally believe that "God" commanded them to.

It is true that hatred of some groups leads to them being killed, but that mainly happens to oppressed populations. For example, there are individual gay people who hate heterosexuals due to years of oppression, but gay people aren’t shooting up straight clubs in Orlando. There are women who hate men, but there’s no pandemic of women slaughtering men simply for being male (and there are examples of the reverse situation. Elliot Rodger and the Montreal massacre of 1989 are two examples). Police aren’t an oppressed class. They sometimes do get intentionally killed simply for the job they have, and that is horrific. That’s inexcusable. But while the ones who are murdered are in no way at fault for their own deaths, they chose the job with awareness of the risks. Being a police officer is a choice. Race, gender, and sexual orientation are not.

Fetishization and fear

Most people seem to know a guy who rails against same-sex marriage but loves lesbian porn. The hypocrisy is pointed out, and it’s accurate. That type of attitude is hypocritical and wrong, although I’d say it’s not surprising.

For humans, the disgust and arousal impulses are very similar. It sounds counterintuitive because those feelings seem like opposites, but they stimulate the same part of the brain. That’s why a lot of people do things during sex that they might otherwise think of as “gross.” That’s why fetishes and phobias are often flip sides of the same coin. I learned that when a person has a fetish, it often used to be a phobia. It just happened to transform from a fear into something that intensely arouses the person, either by chance or as a coping method.

When someone is homophobic but also really into watching two women have sex, it’s both a fear and a fetish. Fetishes are usually applied to inanimate objects, whereas lesbians are obviously people, but a homophobe doesn’t see them as people. He sees them as objects he watches and fantasizes about and then rejects in disgust. (Women can definitely be homophobic too, but I’m using a straight man in this example because so many people have aptly brought up the fact that homophobic men who like lesbian porn are hypocrites.)

This can also be seen in politicians who draft anti-gay and anti-trans policies but are then caught having sex with gay and transgender people. If they’re sleeping with someone of the same gender, many people will respond by saying that homophobes are secretly gay. While it’s true that some are closeted and overcompensating, I’d say that it’s more than a matter of just being gay and not wanting the public to know. It’s a combination of fetishization and fear. If they are hostile toward the LGBT community, they are probably not respectful toward the person of the same gender whom they’re involved with. They most likely dehumanize them. And when a homophobic person is immediately assumed to be gay, that can reinforce the idea that gay people are their own worst enemies and that they’re the ones who are really oppressing each other, which absolves straight homophobes of responsibility.

On humor

Humor is often looked at in a reductive manner of “Anything somebody claims is a joke needs to be taken at face value as one,” and that analyzing joke structure means you lack a sense of humor. Neither of these assumptions are true.

Analyzing jokes is what a professional comedian does for a living. If everything they say sounds completely natural and off-the-cuff, that’s because they’re so well practiced. Successful stand-up requires a great deal of self awareness. As Robin Tran recently pointed out, there’s even an art to hiding the punchlines. Making it in comedy means playing to your audience.

There’s a well known subset of people, both online and off, who think they’re comedians just because they shout out every racist, sexist, and otherwise bigoted thought that barges into their minds, and they lambaste anyone who says it’s not funny. “It’s just a joke, bruh. Don’t you have a sense of humor?” And then this is the part where they fumble for any gay/black/female/trans person in the vicinity to use as a human shield and say, “They’re not offended.” But as soon as anybody who does belong to one of those groups is unamused, their opinion and identity is cast out with the rest of the perceived trash heap and they’re called “just another sensitive [insert slur here].” Their status as a member of a minority group immediately drops them from a position of value (or, rather, exploitation) to a position of mockery. It's pretty sobering to know just how easy it is to fall into that behavior, ourselves.

That’s not how professional comedians work. They have to make the audience like them. This is never achieved by getting angry at people for not laughing, or for getting offended by their offended reaction. It’s not achieved by laughing at a notably disenfranchised group and demanding that they sit there and take it, telling them, “You have to be able to laugh at yourself.” Laughing at oneself should always be a person’s own choice, and it’s funniest when it is. It just becomes bullying when they’re already screwed over by society and now some atomic stink bomb with a mic is demanding that they find it funny.

Even notoriously racist, homophobic, and otherwise douchey comedians know how to tailor their act to specific listeners. They know that if there’s an audience full of women, it’s wise to avoid jokes about them deserving to be raped. (Not that it’s better to make that joke to male audiences. This is about more than not looking like an asshole; it's about not actually being one.) They know that if they themselves are unattractive, it's hypocritical and clueless to make fun of other peoples’ looks. Again, not that it’s better for the comedian to pick on appearance if they are good-looking. There’s the famous rule about punching up, not down.

This leads into the topic of celebrities. Normally, famous people are fair game. They’re rich and successful, so what a comedian says probably isn’t going to affect their status or rub salt in a wound. This would naturally seem like a form of “punching up.” It is—except when the joke is about the famous person belonging to a group that’s historically and institutionally dumped on. This is where things get a little more complicated.

A bigoted joke about a Hollywood star is still a bigoted joke. It may not affect them personally; they probably won’t even hear it. But it will be heard by others of that same group who aren't rich and successful. A joke making fun of Tess Holliday’s weight or Laverne Cox’s transgenderism still affects plus-size women and trans people. Members of those populations are still seen as public laughing stocks, even if those two celebrities aren’t—and they’re ridiculed for aspects of themselves they never chose. (There are people who will argue that you do choose your body size and can decide to be transgender, but that’s a whole other topic. For now, I’ll just say that while some people may be able to dictate their weight to an extent, not everybody can and there are a lot of genetic factors involved. As for being trans, you can choose to get surgery but you don’t choose gender dysphoria. Also, not all trans people get surgery or experience dysphoria. That’s a subject for another blog post, though. My point is that these groups of people, along with others, are torn apart for traits that don’t harm anyone and are overwhelmingly attacked by society.) If someone is unable to make a joke without being a bigot, then they're not very funny or creative.

This is tough to talk about, because nobody wants to be the humor police. Nobody wants to be seen as the no-funster who crashes through the wall at a party to force feed everyone the PC Kool-Ade. But it’s very telling when a person who doesn’t laugh at a hateful joke, or who says it’s not cool, is the only one who’s judged as a buzzkill. Not the person who makes the hateful joke in the first place.

Another telling factor is the way you’re accused of being humorless as soon as you reject or even consider the premise of a joke, even if you and that same person had been cracking up about something else only minutes before and they were telling you how funny you were. It's interesting how quickly any previous demonstration of your humor is now forgotten. Or the way that many of the same people who insist that a racist, misogynistic, or classist comment is “just a joke” will then defend it because “it’s so true!” Or that if you question it, you’re assumed to be trying to censor everyone. It is true that there are some who want to censor others; who want to ban them from having any platform or have them arrested for what they say. I’ve known several such people and would say that approach goes way too far. But more often, anybody who objects at all is accused of being censorious. That’s not what most dissenters aim for. People are free to say what they want, however ignorant it may be. And, in turn, others are free to argue with them. Rather than shutting down public discussion, I want to provide more and to see more offered. Let’s see more counter-arguments. Let’s see more jokes that give off their own light instead of reflecting others who have been drained and derived from for as long as anyone can remember.

That would bring more than amusement; it would bring happiness. And that’s something the world is long due.

The shallow end, or why religious fundamentalism crushes creativity

There’s an idiom I especially love: “Religion is like the public pool: Most of the noise comes from the shallow end.” In hearing the description of the shallow end, I immediately think of the Religious Right. By this, I don’t mean religious people who happen to also vote Republican. I mean a particular and highly recognizable subset of the pious crowd: Those who are aggressively anti-gay, anti-sex (except in very specific, procreative circumstances), and anti-science. Those who believe anyone with a different outlook, even within their own religion, is going to hell. Those who burn Harry Potter books and believe Halloween and rock music are genuine threats to society. Those who want to instill their beliefs through law as a theocracy. Not all Republicans have this perspective by any means, nor do all who identify with a religion. But those who adhere to this worldview almost always merge it with conservative politics.

This group insists that anyone who rejects religion does so out of a reluctance to be good. The truth is that many reject religion because this boisterous and seemingly all-pervading subset clings to such an arbitrary definition of “good.” They think you can’t be good if you enjoy secular entertainment. They say your goodness is defined by dressing conservatively, believing the “right” theological statements, trying to convert others to your religion, avoiding all manner of drugs and alcohol, never swearing or enjoying more ribald humor, and avoiding sex before marriage (especially if you’re a woman). To me, and to others who cannot relate to this mindset, these factors have nothing to do with your goodness or worth as a person.

I got into Christianity for a while in my early twenties and tried to fit into the evangelical mold, but I always felt like an unwelcome outlier. This was because I’m bisexual and don’t feel a need to apologize for it; because I do not believe in hell and see it as an abhorrent concept which is antithetical to any kind of a loving god; because I didn’t see anything wrong with living or sleeping with my husband before we were married, nor with getting drunk or smoking a bowl once in a while; and because I love fantasy and punk rock and just about any alternative scene. This left me as a misfit who was seen as “double minded” and hellbound. I think that any god that exists could not possibly be so petty, like a popular kid ousting someone from their lunch table. Those who argue with that reasoning say, “No, God accepts everyone as long as they meet his standards!” But the whole mentality of “I love you the way you are, now change!” makes no sense.

The conservative evangelical subculture is particularly oppressive for creative people. They seem inherently hostile to artists, whether our drive manifests in music, visual art, or writing. Sure, the Religious Right will utilize those skills when they can be used to promote their perspective, but any coloring outside those lines is looked at askance. They’re quick to interpret artistic works as “witchcraft.” They see co-creators as God’s competition, which is why they demand that you credit all your work to their god. They especially see secular fantasy and mythology as competition for their own lore. People of this group will tell you they’re “sheparding” (ie: micromanaging) you for your own good, but it’s really out of self-interest or a commitment to preserving the status quo. Many of them don’t realize these motives, even when they’re acting on them.
           They rule you with an iron fist hidden inside a plush glove.

Popular defenses for bigotry, and why they don't work

Two of the most ill-informed defenses of homophobia, racism, and general bigotry: 1) "Why should their beliefs be challenged? What they believe is their own business and their own right," and 2) "What's so wrong with taking your own side?"

The first excuse might hold a little more weight if bigotry toward marginalized groups were entirely self-contained and didn't actually affect said groups. But in reality, these attitudes don't exist in a vacuum. They have a huge impact on the way members of privileged groups treat other people. It makes a difference not only in interactions, but also voting habits and laws. Additionally, it influences the way parents raise their children. Raising a child with bigotry not only perpetuates the cycle; it also has hugely damaging consequences if the kid happens to be a member of a group that the parents hate. An obvious example would be homophobic parents of a gay kid. And following up the "How is it anybody else's business?" defense with "They have a right to their own beliefs, so their opinions shouldn't be challenged" is based on a glaring misconception. It falsely equates having the right to your own beliefs with having the "right" to live one's entire life without ever hearing those beliefs questioned. Yes, people have the right to be as bigoted as they please, but it's still a terrible perspective. And the freedom of speech afforded to those of us who are averse to such bigotry means that we have the right to openly disagree.

The second argument, "What's wrong with taking your own side?", is less of an excuse and more of an outright attempt at justification. When a member of a privileged class decides to attack those who are unprivileged, they are not "taking their own side." They are targeting marginalized groups of which they are not a part. You can care about the safety and well-being of people in your own group without being hostile toward outsiders. But misogynistic, white supremacist, classist, and LGBT-phobic people always define themselves by their hatred of disadvantaged populations, rather than defining themselves simply by their concern for straight, rich, non-trans, and white peers (who are not being collectively oppressed for those traits, even if they have problems as individuals). And in calling that "their own side," they are the ones conflating white people with white supremacy, straight people with homophobia, men with misogyny, rich people with classism, cisgender (non-trans) people with transphobia, and more. It's ironic, because that's exactly what they accuse their critics of doing.

"-Isms" vs. individuals

There is often a problem, both in religion and in many other "-isms," of prioritizing one's philosophy over people. A lot of it seems to stem from the belief that whatever ideology you ascribe to, you have to swallow it whole. It's the unwillingness to examine the tenets and to reject ones that marginalize people and fly in the face of compassion. It's the immediate inclination to reject a person entirely because they differ on certain points of belief, and to decide they must be immoral because of it.

To be clear, I'm not criticizing the act of rejecting someone who holds oppressive views. For example, a person committed to anti-racism is absolutely justified in cutting off someone who expresses deeply racist beliefs. Such a perspective does active harm to others. But I know Christians who have ended friendships with other Christians for not believing in hell. I know socialists who refuse to engage with cohorts who espouse Marxism as opposed to Leninism. I know hardline atheists who don't want to talk to other atheists who are not interested in "de-converting" people. When you allow for no criticism of any part of your cause, you become too quick to dismiss others who differ on any points at all. Also, I think a sign of fanaticism is the belief that anyone who disagrees even slightly is the real fanatic.

They tell you not to pick and choose, but for a healthy perspective, you have to. Selectivity is not the problem. The problem is refusing to admit to being selective while demanding that others adhere to every orthodoxy. The problem is the parts that people select.

This is where the issue of tolerance comes in for me. Bigots love to accuse others of being hypocrites for not tolerating their bigotry. But here's the thing: I have never claimed that it's reasonable or productive to be tolerant of everything. I don't tolerate hate and stereotypes that are heaped on people for factors they can't control. It's petty to cry persecution after being criticized for a polarizing opinion. We can choose our opinions. We can't choose our race, gender, or sexual orientation, so I'm all for not rejecting anyone on the basis of those factors. However, it's reasonable to resolve to avoid oppressive people.