Suffer The Children, The Conclusion

A couple of episodes back, I narrated an encounter between a Unicef staffer and me. Then I asked my viewers if they think that I’m capable of such nasty actions.

So what was my whole exercise for?

I was curious how the people would comment. True enough, the blunt and nasty ones were from anonymous cowards. When I included an instruction for people to identify themselves when they commented, the nastiness level dropped.

Also, there are readers who assume that everything I write is factual and true. I deliberately called my blog a “show” because it’s precisely that—I am perfectly aware that whatever I write here will be read by others. The public nature of a blog is what makes it different from a private diary or journal, because one way or another the awareness that there are readers will have an effect on one’s writing—what to reveal or to leave out, how to say things, why the need to embellish or fudge on certain details.

This also extends to the comments section. What they write there speaks as much about the commentator as the person they’re commenting about. Their comment is also an extension of the public image they want to project.

Ultimately what this little exercise of mine dramatizes is that this particular blog isn’t a sure way to get to know the truth nor the real me. Some people would want to believe that I am incapable of such acts; some even think too highly of me. Thanks guys, but you’re wrong. I am capable of such nastiness, and I have in the past behaved badly, not in the same way as I described in my previous episode (it’s too public, too attention-grabbing), but bad nonetheless. Of those who left comments, it’s Khan who knows me the longest, and so he got that right. To those who are disappointed, I say to you: “Get over it.”

However, here’s the thing: while I am capable of such nastiness, I am also capable of choosing my actions. Precisely because I know I have this devil inside of me that I now can choose to subdue or ignore it—or let it loose.

So this is what really happened to my encounter with Miss Pudgy Unicef Girl: I cut off her spiel with a wave of my hand, as I continued walking without slowing down a bit. She, being used to such treatment, quickly and quietly backed off. As I walked away I could hear her starting her spiel again, perhaps to a particular passerby who’s more inclined to stop and listen to her. Jamie da Vinci guessed it right, that the encounter was all in my head.

Or so it is stated here on the show. Remember The X-Files? The truth is out there.