Hiss and growl
Just pondering....

When you have a real vocation, your personality switches into a different mode when you're inside the vocation.

From my own experience:

When I'm discussing economics or politics I'm hot, passionate, and wildly one-sided. Those are not my vocations. Those are areas where lethal mass-murdering psychopaths are in charge, constantly attacking me and my tribe, constantly stealing my money and cultural heritage. Hissing and growling are my only defensive weapons; I don't have the aristocratic privilege or the nuclear weapons or the trillions needed to fight on an even keel.

(Must admit, the hissing is extra-loud because it's partly directed at myself for being a molasses-brained retard. I rode along with the lethal psychopaths for too many years even while seeing all of their murderous activities separately; I didn't put it all together until Shotgun Paulson stole the whole country in broad daylight in Sept 2008.)

By contrast, when I'm discussing programming or phonetics, I'm calm, open to various ideas, and impartial. Those areas are vocational. I can marshal facts and logic as weapons, so I don't need to hiss and growl.

Connecting this to an earlier ponder on the new power of vigilantes:

What was the Big Theme of the previous decade? Toto.

This was the decade when little dogs pulled back the curtains on all sorts of crooked Wizards, the decade when vigilantes punctured the balloons and bubbles of the pompous Professionals, showing the latter as complete miserable frauds, charlatans and criminals.

What really happened is that the people who are paid for their vocation have ceased to be professionals. They no longer contain the mental structure of their vocation; they no longer recognize or remember the Shoulders Of Giants in their own field.

In Huxleyan terms they're Epsilons. Every day is a new day, every moment is a new moment, every theory is a new theory. Their empty brains await the command from the Speaker Of Authority: "Carbon!" And they shout gladly, "Carbon! Carbon! Oh Carbon!"

When attacked they no longer own the facts and logic to form a calm coherent defense, because all their facts are false and their logical circuits are shorted out. So they hiss and growl and slash. Unlike my hissing and growling, theirs is dangerous because they are not powerless. Their hissing controls the media channels for everyone; their growling determines the interest rate; their slashing directs the Delta Force to bomb the nearest Whitey.

When they come after us, politeness is suicidal. They do not comprehend politeness. An Inquisitor who encounters a polite Heretic doesn't think "Oh! I am so impressed by this man's Gandhian non-resistance! He makes me so ashamed of my un-Christ-like nastiness, that henceforward I shall Repent Of My Erroneous Ways! I shall ever after be a modest Scholar, glad to teach and glad to learn!" Nope. The Inquisitor only thinks "Soft one. I can finish him by lunch, still have time for golf."

We powerless critters have to stand our ground, hiss and growl just as loudly as the tyrants, and try to undermine them or fool them whenever possible.

At the same time we should use a little discernment, and avoid wasting energy against people who aren't real threats.
  ¶ 7:56 PM