Man Desires Praise for Keeping Opinion to Himself
He wants everyone to know he kept his mouth shut.
It was an ordinary day for Arnold Rossum; his morning coffee in hand, scrolling his timeline on X (formerly Twitter), when he came across a post promoting a new movie: an all-female reboot of the classic 1957 film “12 Angry Men,” appropriately titled “12 Angry Women.” Surprised at the concept he quickly jumped to the comment section to see how people had reacted. One user wrote, “I cant believe their ruining another great movie with this woke bullsh!t [sic]”. Another user, PaulW_1976, wrote, “sounds like my wife’s book club.” A more positive comment was made by caligurl4lyfe who said, “finally a woman’s perspective on the modern legal system #stopviolentmen.” These were only a few examples of the hundreds of comments. Rossum pondered adding his two cents into the scuffle, critiquing the movie’s potential integrity or lack thereof, but thought it would get lost in the confusion to the ocean of discourse. He landed on the thought that maybe he didn’t need to voice his opinion, which he most certainly had.
After his foray on X (formerly Twitter), he logged onto Instagram, where his favorite model/influencer (or influencer/model), Sally Fae, had posted a new story. Delighted at the prospect of seeing a beautiful woman, he opened the Story, only to be disappointed that it was not a selfie, but in fact a picturesque landscape she had taken on her hike. Rossum had no interest in nature or of hikes. Crestfallen at the absence of his online crush, he thought about writing something saccharine in hopes she might notice his post; but upon viewing the public comments, “less tress more titties” was scrawled at the top by BigBob. Rossum instinctively went to scold BigBob for his misogynist comment, hoping to charm Sally Fae. He hastily drafted a paragraph detailing how problematic and rude BigBob’s comment was, but thought twice before hitting Enter. He concluded that Sally Fae was a strong and independent woman, capable of speaking for herself, and that she didn’t need him defiantly coming to her aid online. He deleted the comment and held a moment of satisfaction with his use of restraint and dignity.
Lastly, Rossum opened the app TikTok. Going through the routine of aimlessly scrolling past a litany of videos that would rot zombie brains, an odd post caught his eye; it seemed to be recorded in the style of a 90’s camcorder by user Sandra O’Malley. It was an AI generated montage of performers morphing and transforming into different beasts. It had the caption, “Shapeshifters have existed among us for years!” Laughing that this was certainly satire, Rossum went to read other reactions, only to find that Sandra was serious. The top comment was by the creator, “I don’t care how many times you people or chatGPT tell me this is fake I KNOW IT’S REAL!!!” The most liked reply read, “seek help”. A vast number of commenters seemed to agree with the creator though, one wrote, “I’ve known they are real too, my mother used to work for a wealthy family that held parties where the shapeshifters would display their powers, I think they’re related to demons and Satanology.” In disbelief, Rossum knew he would not be able to change the minds of these conspiracy theorists, would come across as sanctimonious and only bolster their beliefs. Dejected that these people either lived in psychosis or existed in utter stupidity, he had no ounce of energy left to post his refutation.
In the end, however, Rossum was satisfied with his silence for the day, but wanted validation and acknowledgement for his discipline online. In a world filled with digital pandemonium, how was he to be credited for keeping space open for marginalized and more important voices than his own? How could his noble bravery be communicated to the public? Proud, yet morose, he carried on with his day; the world ignorant to his courageous dedication to passivity.