I was in a “discussion” with a friend a while ago. I put “discussion” in quotes because, to my layman’s knowledge of discourse, it wasn’t so much a discussion as that I was being discussed at. Vehemently. On politics.
I know, I know . . .
My friend’s wife actually left about halfway through our “discussion”, taking their son home from our dinner and making her husband eventually walk. She texted her apologies and embarrassment to us (while he was still here) and yet, I was never really upset about any of it. Saddened but not upset.
The main thing that made me sad—and I didn’t get to thinking about it so much until a couple of days later—it’s when I realized; I know exactly where he stands politically, but he has no idea where I stand. He knows where he thinks I stand. But the questions I was asking him had nothing to do with any position I may or may not have held so much as trying to get him to explain his.
It gives me a whole new wonder about the rhetoric behind political and/or religious arguments: For pretty much the same reason. (And let me say, that the rest of this post has nothing to do with my friend, whom I love very much. It’s much more a wider thought on the general discourse of politics and religion in our country today.)