I hate the indifferent. I believe living means taking sides. They who truly live cannot help but to be citizens and partisans. Indifference is apathy, parasitism, perversion, not life. That’s why I hate the indifferent.
Indifference is the burden of history. Indifference operates with great power on history. It operates passively, but it operates. It is fate; that which cannot be counted on; it is that which twists programs and ruins the best-conceived plans; it is the brute matter that chokes intelligence. That which happens, the evil that weighs upon all, happens because most of humanity renounces its own will, allows laws to be passed that only revolt can nullify, and leaves men that only mutiny can overthrow to achieve power. Thanks to indifference, few hands weave the fabric of collective life unsurveilled, and the masses ignore it because they are careless; then it seems like it is fate that runs over everything and everyone, it looks as if history is but an enormous natural phenomenon, an eruption, an earthquake of which everyone is a victim, those who consent as well as those who dissent, those who knew as well as those who didn’t, the active as well as the indifferent. Some whimper pitifully, others curse obscenely, but none, or very few, ask themselves: if I too had fulfilled my duty, if I had tried to impose my will, would this have happened?
This too is why I hate the indifferent: Their wailing as if eternally innocent is a nuisance to me. I hold every person liable to how they fulfilled the task life has given them and continues to give them every day, of what they have done, and especially what they have not done. And I feel I have the right to be unrelenting, not to squander my compassion, of not having to share my tears with them.
I am a partisan, I am alive, and in the conscience of those on my part I feel the pulse of the future city we are building. And in it, the social chain does not rest on a few, nothing that happens in it is a matter of luck, nor the product of fate, but the intelligent work of citizens. In it, nobody is looking out their window while the few sacrifice and drain themselves. I live, I am a partisan. That is why I hate those who don’t take sides, I hate the indifferent."
Y’know people say shit about social media along the lines of ‘OMG no one cares what anyone had for breakfast’ and like.
I do? I care. I’m pretty sure a lot of people care. I want to hear that the people I care about are having delicious breakfasts or saw something odd at work or flirted with a cute barista. Or just any little thoughts they have that they feel are worth sharing.
I’ve always kind of assumed that’s how you’re supposed to feel about your friends.
Things I don’t understand:
- how my age is relevant to the fact that what you said was wrong
[police officer] “sir are you in possession of any illegal drugs”
“sure thing son whatchu need”
"I was totally an accident. You know, my parents were on welfare living in a garage in south side Chicago. Things didn’t work out between the two of them, and I just met my dad for the first time last year. I always thought he would be a deadbeat, like with no teeth or something. But when we met, I touched his face and looked at him. He was so normal. Turns out, he’s actually a lot like me."
"What was the happiest moment of your life?"
"I don’t think it’s happened to me yet."
Spencer Reid in every episode:
Broken Mirror 1x05
Posted by Mona Buehler
1. Peter Pan’s Flight ride at Disneyland. I’m still not convinced you aren’t actually flying over London.
2. Bathtubs. I do 85 percent of my best thinking in the tub.
3. Old people in love. Makes my heart go pitter-patter.
4. Raccoons. They somehow manage to be simultaneously adorable and ferocious, something that’s not easy to pull off.
5. Charles Bukowski books. I don’t know why but this grumpy drunk’s writing always puts a big grin on my face.
6. The idea of finding a buried treasure map. I haven’t found one yet but am always on the lookout. I love adventure!
7. Silent Movies. Anything from Buster Keaton or the German Expressionists.
four and three and two and one