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Too Good to Be Local

by Steven Kilpatrick

One of these obstacles seems to be, the always dissenting voice that appears when one presents these ideas. There are those who question my need to pound out my few words each week for this column. They go so far as to belittle me for doing so, and belittle you for reading it. Yes, that's right; I am speaking to you as a reader of an article for a moment instead of a peer sharing ideas. This is because too many people seem to think that any communication they deem unnecessary becomes invalid. I guess that is true for the individual, mind you. If you are one who believes that the puddle is where you exist and the world disappears based on your choice to move and your choice alone… well, then this reflection of someone else in my work probably isn't for you. My only hope is that anyone who doesn't belong on this side of the mirror had sense enough to stay where they do belong.

You see, when writing, one must carefully consider his audience. This is a very simple principle. If you're doing a study on "post-nuclear war fallout effects on the indigenous fish of the Pacific Ocean" you will more than likely be speaking or writing to a group of scientist…or to the members of the A.O.Z.M.M.H.B.W.D.W.S.P.D.F.E (Association of Overzealous Mad Men Hell Bent on World Destruction While Still Providing a Decent Fishing Environment).

If you were to write a book on this, in most cases it would not be directed at dance majors; if you were to speak about this you would be much more likely to speak to a group of college students than to a group of first graders. If you do not carefully choose your audience you risk missing the point of communication. The point of communication is to covey information. A first grader would likely get confused, intimidated or bored with the information above. Even this article would be ill placed in the hand of a first grader due to some of the more complex word choices and yes, I'm making a direct comparison between first graders, and the average mindset of those people who attack what we do here each week

The problem is, I have trouble following the rules. I don't really care to write to my audience. In my case, I write to entertain, while at the same time getting up a bit on a soapbox.

Some of you are writers yourself. Some of you are film makers. A few of you are probably students in High School. There is no way I can really know what gets each of you off. What I do know is that many of you are very bright, and very open minded people. I expect that anyone who found their way to this site has half a brain. What I do not expect is to find a bunch of toddlers trying to dissect the future of post nuclear bass fishing. I don't have time to talk down to my audience any more than my audience has time to be preached to. I don't have the patience to deal with someone dismissing my thoughts, just because they don't see a need for their expression.

I've been called elitist because I enjoy expressing my ideas. I am being self centered and self indulgent each time I hit my spacebar to move on to the next word. The mere thought that anyone would want to read what I type is a sheer act of self importance only rivaled by bible thumping, door to door evangelists. Yes, that's right. These people come to a place that is devoted to sharing information and ideas, and then share their opinions and ideas. Ironically, their opinions and ideas are simply long rants about how our ideas and thoughts aren't worthy of print and no one cares to hear them. We don't deserve the time it takes to load the page with our columns.

Well, it seems to me that self importance isn't a cornered market then; is it?

If you are a member of the audience who enjoys what I write, then I thank you for giving me an audience to write to. If you are one that doesn't enjoy what I have to say… then I don't have anything against you. I'm not attacking you. Please have the courtesy to… well… keep your fucking mouth shut about me… about any of us here. I am amazed that people don't find the sheer idiocy in wasting so much time, telling others that they are wasting their time. I mean… at least we're wasting time on something we enjoy and believe in. What do you pitiful few waste your time on? Wicked words meant only to hurt and discourage others.

If you need reason for what we do, just look to be entertained. As you all know, we're going to be dead someday. Life is one big attempt to entertain ourselves. As our own hero Kevin Smith reminded us, the point of living is to pass the time until we die. Nothing is really important or futile when looked at from that perspective.

I was playing chess with my fiancée two days ago. She loves the idea of playing chess. Whenever she comes to visit, she wants to play chess. Then she loses; I've won the last twenty plus games. She hates to lose. Last time we played, as she was turning her king onto his side to denote surrender, she commented that she doesn't know why she always wants to play this game, because she never wins.

Well, I figure, in the long run we all face a proverbial check mate. In chess, at least, you can see your pieces dwindle, and you can see the board. In chess you can play again and again until you finally win one. Each piece has its purpose, that purpose is clearly defined and you aren't allowed to put yourself in any danger. With life, you haven't got that same luxury. With life every move is yours, but every piece is hidden. You can always move in all directions, though sometimes not as far as you would like. It doesn't matter if the move you make puts you in check, or check mate, or over the edge of the board… you make it. If you make the right move, then you are rewarded, but if you make the wrong move… you pay the price... sometimes the ultimate price.

In my own way, I explained this to her. I said to her, that we all lose eventually, but we still play. She could have argued that not everyone plays chess, but she knew that I wasn't speaking of chess alone. I mean with anything. Some people play checkers… but not Heidi, she hates that one too. The point is, we all play. Win some, lose some, draw some… just plain give up some, we all play.

Maybe you don't play chess either, maybe I'm once again talking to the wrong audience. That's fine, just go back and sub in football or baseball et cetera. In football I saw a guy go down with a serious injury last week who might easily have been paralyzed, but the teams and players that were there that day still played on. They knew first hand that their friend was laying in some hospital with no feeling in parts of his body, but they kept on playing. Damn the danger and the fear, they played. Dale Earnheardt knew first hand that he might hit a wall wrong someday, but he still played. His son watched his father hit that wall, and he still plays.

There are still naysayers then too, believe it or not, armchair critiques are not limited to quaint little internet sites devoted to writing quirky articles. There are those who trash boxing because of the violence, or NASCAR because of the danger, even Ice Dancing because it's for a bunch of pansies. Do you know what those people are? Jealous and ignorant. They just don't get what Lennox Lewis, Dale Jr. and… some ice…dancer…does…ahem… That's right. They don't understand how these dangerous things can make their participants appreciate life so much. Instead of finding their own audience, or their own performers, they feel the need to berate the ones that others enjoy. They attack the ones they don't get, instead of searching for the ones they do.

You know, at the end of every column I write I learn something about me. I hate to berate my own work, but for the first time I think I was far too selfish and I do apologize, but I do so with an asterisk. It is true, that the writer needs to know his audience. If I am at a gay rights rally, I certainly wouldn't stand up and preach Judeo Christian values and talk of the deplorable actions of homosexuals. I may not be gay, but I certainly don't have to be anti-gay either, especially at a place devoted to them. On the opposite side of that coin, if I walk naked into a bar called, "if you come in naked you get fucked in the ass by 12 guys with big cocks" then my sore ass, is my own fault. To put it in layman's terms… although that may not be the best choice of words at the moment, the audience can also pick their writer or performer.

It is my responsibility to give you what you expect, so this week I may have dropped the ball a bit, but it is also your job to read the sign outside and wander on past if you don't like what the sign says about me.

Let this be a lesson to those of you who don't understand why I do this. I chose my audience pretty well, and they haven't let me down. You would do well to choose your own audience for any negative diatribe you might wish to visit on us in the future. Attacking the very people you are talking to seems like a poor choice of audience. You might also choose your own entertainment. If you don't like what I do, I'm probably not writing for you. The faster you understand that, the happier we'll both be.

In the end though, whether this long, self important rant gains praise or criticism… well, I don't care. At least I played. It's not as easy as it looks from the other side of the keyboard. I think those guys thousands of years ago that communicated with mean spirited little kids by using far noises and grunts had it good. Actually, I guess they would get along pretty well today too… that's still pretty much how you kids communicate. I guess that was one guy who did know his audience.

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Since 7-13-02