The Stupid and the Curious

There are two types of people who see things in black and white: the stupid and the curious. The stupid use extremes to define themselves because they're incapable of actual thought. The curious use extremes to find out where everyone else stands when they don't realize they're making a stand.
[Source]

I've been finding a lot of writing on the internet by a number of people that is very important.  To me at least. Because it's something I really relate to.  Or it's something that I feel strongly about.  Or maybe it's just something that resonates with me really deeply for one reason or another.  And I really like that there are people out there, whose blogs I can literally just stumble upon completely on accident who think about things in ways which are similar to mine but also different.  This is the sort of writing that not only makes me want to think about things, but also to write about them, and I think this is wonderful.

Sometime around when I was fifteen, I stopped seeing things in black and white.  I met some people who were...interesting.  I think that's as good a way as any of putting it, because they really were.  It was my first exposure to anything other than my parents' comfortable home.  And even though they never sheltered me, they always made sure I grew up somewhere that was safe, they never made me want to do anything rebellious.  So I didn't know that people around me ever broke rules or did drugs or snuck out at night.  That wasn't a part of my life until I turned fifteen.  And then I met some, as I said, rather interesting individuals.

Even as I was frightened by the concept of breaking all of the rules, I was enthralled by it.  I became fascinated with these people because they quite literally opened up a whole new world for me.  A world in which legality and policy were possibly reasonable guidelines, but did not by any means determine the outcome in every situation.  I learned first to look at both sides of the issue (more so than I was ever taught in  school, certainly), and then I realized that this concept of "sides" is fucking bullshit.  That there is no right and wrong when it comes to people.

And as the years went by, I started trying to understand people better.  Games like Cross the Line, where a (possibly controversial) statement would be made and individuals would step forward over a literal line if they agreed with it or if they felt it applied to them, have fascinated me since the first time I played them.  They force you to say it.  Yes or no.  You don't get a "well, almost, but not quite, because..." option.  Yes.  Or no.  It's an easy way to probe people for what they believe without putting them into the context of an awkward conversation that forces them to reveal deeply personal information, but also an opportunity to start just such a conversation.

I find conversations about many common topics to be boring.  I don't speak much in group settings, as anyone who knows me will confirm.  But as soon as you get me in a room with a single individual who is willing to talk, I can't stop asking questions, trying to understand what dwells in this shell of humanity.  People fascinate me more than anything, and I don't mean the "I was born in ____ and have two sisters and a cat" story.  I mean the things that people are afraid to talk about.  The beliefs they're not even sure of.  And I love challenging them, because I love it when my beliefs are challenged.  I love the stimulating conversation that comes of a well-informed individual who is not stuck in a particular way of thinking, but is also invested enough to question other points of view.

I know this isn't entirely relevant to the quote I posted.  But I don't mind.  It made me think, and I'm very appreciative as a result.  I think it is beautifully worded and extremely insightful, in a way that makes a lot of sense to me but that would not have occurred to me.  And it made me reflect on myself, which is never a bad  thing.  Writing like this gives me hope.  It makes me believe that there are people out there who have grown up, who won't forever be borderline alcoholics barely capable of functioning in a standard job, which is something that I lose faith in remarkably often given my regular surroundings.  So I am glad that there are still insightful, intelligent people out there.  Very, very glad.