What if say, it was 1937, you’re a German citizen, white, Christian, but not Nazi, and you have lost a lottery, suffered a rare crime, decades of persecution by perhaps ironically, a particularly evil Jew? Surely there are evil Jewish people, not making any equivalencies, suppose there were ever only one evil Jewish person and you were their victim?
Should you cry out, should you tell?
Truth is truth and justice is justice, and truly, your life has been ruined by this criminal – should you be alerting the world to the presence of one evil Jew at this point in history? Or should you perhaps take one for the team and not add your true story to the general stream of violent propaganda?
What if it’s not over? What if telling the newspaper your story were the only way to escape your victimization? What if the better life you hope to gain is among the Jews?
Allegory, innit.
Until I solve this dilemma, I can’t write my SilverSingles profile, is the thing.
I was never this guy, I never blamed my problems on women or girls, I do not have a long list of such persecutors. I was raised by women, hurting women, and I was raised to be the equivalent in my allegory of a self-hating Jew, meaning a self-hating man, and I blame men, generally. So we have a problem, I am not this guy, I cannot be this guy, the world has made me this guy – I cannot be. I’m pre-amok, pre-suicidal, until something cracks this moral dilemma for me, can I tell my story, or is it simply too toxic and needs to be supressed?
You see this? Comparing the sufferings of women (white, middle class women, even) to the persecution of Jews, etc., in the holocaust?
Not that guy.
But here I am, perhaps because I was not that guy, someone who was that gal took advantage.
I mean, I’m not the strong silent type, it’s not a secret to my readers, if they exist – only to anyone who matters, anyone might have any power to resolve anything in my life. I have repeatedly attempted to write the newspapers (my blog) about my persecution, in times when it seemed a matter of self defense, of my life or death, and in fact that is what I’m doing again now, for the same reason again.
In a fit of loneliness and perhaps hypomanic optimism, I activated my SilverSingles account, I must have forgotten my prison, my story and there is no way to tell my story that isn’t a red flag. It’s calling to me, the Telltale Socialized Pool of Hearts, but I look too much like that guy and I can’t spread the evil sexist propaganda whether it was true in my life or not, and I can’t have a relationship where I can’t tell the truth . . .
Five years here, so far.
Jeff
March 8th., 2021
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