I follow a gaming blog run by Zoomers.
(Yes, young folks still write blogs. The written word isn’t dead yet.)
I got into this blog because they have quirky takes on things. You know me – I like quirky.
Still, it’s cringe AF to read – no cap, fr fr.
No, okay, they don’t pepper it with new slang like that. And only some of the writers have short attention spans, burping up a couple of short paragraphs and calling that a post, or going on wild, irrelevant tangents out of nowhere.
My issue is with the endless emotional handholding.
There’s a series talking about a violent video game. It has violence in the title. Is adding a trigger warning for violence at the start of the series politeness? Maybe, but I sure wouldn’t. You’re an adult on the internet – a detailed exploration of Blooddeath 2: The Disembowelment will likely contain talk of violence. You should know that through your own reasoning.
But, okay, maybe a quick note at the start of the series is good manners these days.
Starting every entry in the series with a trigger warning, though…?
At least that’s just an easily skippable paragraph. It gets rough when the social commentary shows up in the article. The game alludes to slavery, so of course we need to spend seven paragraphs talking about how slavery is wrong and how it hurt people in subtle ways and how we need to balance explorations of the topic in fiction with nuance, respect and realism.
Oh, okay, your take is slavery is bad, got it.
Honestly, it must be exhausting to traumatise yourself over and over like this. Every little thing needs to be extracted from its context and analysed for its real-world problematic microaggressions.
Urgh, spare me.
If you feel the need to explore this – and I do say if – then a simple paragraph once in the series will do:
“This game depicts some dark practices from our own history. Many characters in the game see these things as good or at least normal. This can be challenging to a modern audience – but the fact it’s challenging is promising because it means we don’t still believe this. Now, back to the video game…”
That one paragraph covers every –ism, every –phobia and every historical practice we’ve long-since banished.
Done. We’ve paid due respect to those who’ve suffered, given we’re talking about a piece of escapist fiction. Can we move on?
Hmm?
Oh, we can’t move on? Because since the trauma still persists in modern generations, we need to point out how traumatic it is every time – just so no one is confused how miserable they should feel?
The question in the subject line was a leading one. This isn’t emotional intelligence, sensitivity or respect – it’s emotional cowardice. It’s people pretending to face ongoing issues, but doing this isn’t facing anything. It’s a refusal to grapple with it.
“I acknowledge and respect your pain.” That’s better than disrespecting it, but less useful than helping folks heal from it. Wallowing in it isn’t healing. Exploring the pain is useful, but only when you return to normalcy on the regular.
You don’t ignore a wound, but you don’t pick at it either. You clean it, bandage it and then get back to your life as best you can.
I say all this to deter – nay, piss off – a certain sort of person.
If you enjoy wallowing in pain – yours or others’ – while playing the victim Olympics, then my coaching won’t help you.
I assume you have a goal, you have at least some drive but you’re stuck. We’ve all been there. In fact, the more ambitious you are, the more you come against your own limits.
If that describes you, then you’ll get a lot out of my coaching program – whether you’re a Zoomer or not. In fact, one of my coaches is from Gen Z, so you can’t accuse me of ageism here. Besides, it’s not as if plenty of people across the generations haven’t loved to make excuses and retreat from their dreams.
If all this sickens you, then you might find coaching useful.
In that case, here’s how you sign up:
Note: this offer is only available to email subscribers.
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