American culture, American People., Culture, Media, Philosophy, Technology, United States

Epilogue

“It’s not what you look at that matters, it’s what you see.” – Henry David Thoreau

Several weeks ago, my oldest child turned and asked me a question I’ve been secretly asking myself for months.

“Why haven’t you written anything lately, Dad?”

I stared blankly back at him, my mind firing off excuses – and truths – as to why I had not done any writing since January. I wanted to give a good answer, something philosophical perhaps.

“Just haven’t, buddy,” I said instead.

Wouldn’t Hemingway would be proud of that eloquent answer?

The truth is I kind of already knew why I had not put anything in this space since I bombastically quit Facebook in my last prose.

In fact, I had drafted about five or six pieces in the months since, but deemed them all too heavy, too poor in quality or just gave up out of lack of motivation to finish a post.

I had something on the horrible events in Las Vegas and our loss of humanity in these senseless moments, I had a piece on grief, a piece on Fake News, and one about all the trivial pursuits we chase in life.

And I shared them with no one.

If I’m honest with myself, the lack of writing over the past year is largely due to feeling like all I’d be doing is repeating the same narrative I’ve spent the last five years writing about: society, social media and the loss of identity (both self and national).

Was this writer’s block, or just boredom?

And then it struck me: This blog was really more like a book – or at minimum a long thesis – on a specific topic with chapters done in real time over the previous four or five years as posts. It’s garbled and not in actual hard copy form, and would require massive amounts of editing, a publisher and probably a hundred other things, but look! I wrote a book!

And any book, as such, deserves an epilogue. A director’s cut outtake of the proceedings. So, let’s let this entry serve as an epilogue to this site over the past four or five years.

Here’s why this thread has to stop for me: I am sick of myself when it comes to writing about social media and its impact on our culture. After all this time, I think I’ve made my feelings known.

But here’s why this topic captured me for such a long period of time: I believe what I write, or at least maybe just I want to. Above all, I want it to be genuine. As I’ve claimed many times, we are not the perfect robotic creations our social media feeds make us appear to be.

You see all the smiling photos, the congratulations, the “I’m so proud” comments, and miss the moments of breakdown in between where life is not nearly as pretty. Because life is not always pretty, and it cannot be hashtagged. And we are beautiful, inherently flawed, imperfect human beings.

And those imperfect human beings do horrible things to each other. Looking back, this began on my old blog, with the overly thought title of The Necker Cube. The site had been a platform for me to keep writing about sports after my sports writing career ended (columns, blogs, magazine).

But I grew tired of the sports narrative and the Sandy Hook tragedy caught my attention in such a moving and painful way that I felt compelled to comment on it.

(Note: if you click on some of the older links to these posts, be aware they were pulled from said former site and have not been edited for spacing – i.e. the lines run on strangely).

The entry prior to a post on the events at Sandy Hook, called The Growing Divide, was first entry in this so-called book. And the archives show a writer flipping back and forth for a time between social commentary and traditional sports commentary. Sometimes I even mixed the two.

And then the Boston Marathon bombing happened and I began thinking about Switzerland. I dealt with the backlash of the Ice Bucket Challenge, and Miley Cyrus leading a mini-Molly revolution of “we do what we want” angst.

There was the time I wrote about (one of probably 20 times I did) how we’d become obsessed through social media of giving our opinion on someone’s else’s opinion (what a wormhole). I spent some time holding us accountable. And gave that narrative some additional thoughts. Basically, a lot of it can be solved with kindness.

But I also tried to unwrap the media’s growing fascination with itself and the media’s ever-expanding use of rumors and unnamed sources. All this in an effort to be first – or to incite ratings and division. And we spend a lot of time being divided. There are also the times when the media blurs the lines of reporting, journalism and the monetary backers propping up these outlets.

Part of my problem has been that I just did not want to see us get swallowed by the groupthink and mob mentality. We’ve spent a lot of time on selfies and allowing ourselves to be marginalized. And that bubbling melting pot has been on the verge of boiling over. In fact, one of my last pieces in this series was after the election (and was the second-most read post I’ve ever made at 1,100 views).

Sadly, it has gotten worse – somehow.

Yet, some of my favorite pieces were about my own family and life in raising a large family during this small era. At times, it was like a dark comedy, cause you have to just laugh at the absurdity of it all. At others, it was a serious test of the blurred lines between media responsibility and parenting, with a key example of a Super Bowl Sunday that went in a direction I did not expect. And there was a life-changing family moment that has ripples personally to this day, that many can relate to: the loss of a loved one. (That one, by far the most popular thing I’ve ever written, has garnered over 1,200 reads to date.)

The biggest takeaway? Be present in your life. Put the phone down, maybe not all the time, because that might be unrealistic in late 2017. But being more aware of your surroundings and engage. A couple weeks ago, we had friends over and I’m not sure the four of us looked at our phones the entire night other than to play music. It was glorious.

Over 2.8 billion people are on social media, 1.9 billion on Facebook alone. And roughly 75 percent of all Facebook users spend at least 20 minutes per day on the platform.

It is a trap to make your life appear only as these shared snapshots of happiness. That has an impact on you – and those in your social media sphere.

First, it creates an illusion of you that cannot be sustained. You come to believe in all the “good” so much so that when something even remotely troubling happens, it becomes earth-shattering. All the while, what you were posting and sharing about yourself was a grand illusion, one that you bought into as much as everyone else. We seem to only care if people look, not if they actually see.

Secondly, to those in your sphere, it creates an illusion that they subconsciously cannot compete with either. I am not terribly certain when exactly this occurred in social media, but it’s certainly there, and there is really no denying it.

An opposing view might hold that it is equally unrealistic to expect people to post “bad” things, for fear of being viewed a malcontent or someone just out for sympathy. And there’s probably truth to that, too.

But when it is all said and done, do any of these things matter? If I’ve learned anything recently, it’s that I will be far more prone to wishing I had five more minutes with my children, my wife, my family and friends that I will wishing I’d let my two cents on Fake News be known.

All that said…you cannot starve yourself of the things that make you you, to go too long without doing what you enjoy. The reason I haven’t been writing is because, well, I haven’t been writing. But I now realize that’s just because I need a new topic. The longer it goes without writing, the farther that piece of me gets away from who I am today.

I must find a new voice in my writing. Because the social media shaming shtick – while still valid – has been played out in this space. And my hope is this post serves as my last reference, my epilogue, to that being an ill of the world.

In a way, I think we all need to change our voice and find new passions and interests existing alongside our old ones. You can still be you, but life is meant to be explored and pushed, not compartmentalized.

We called our ancestors settlers, but really that isn’t accurate at all. We are the settlers. Settling in and doing the same old things, without pushing ourselves to be a part of a solution – either just for ourselves (and what ails us spiritually, mentality or physically) – or for the greater world we’re a part of.

I reject that notion that we must settle within ourselves and wait for something to happen. This year, I am thankful for a lot of what I’m always thankful for. But maybe I just take it less for granted that I did before.

After a year of searching, I realize I’ll always be searching in small ways, big ways and all the ways in between.

As the quote at the top states, from Thoreau: “It’s not what you look at that matters, it’s what you see.”

So maybe I will find a new voice soon and keep writing. Or maybe I won’t.

One thing is for certain: It is definitely more about the journey – and what we see – than it is what we are looking at.

Time to reawake my soul, open my eyes to see.

Onward – and upward – we go.

American culture, American Politics, Life, pop culture, Society, Society & Culture, Uncategorized

One of These Days

There are no words, really, though I’ll type a thousand as therapy.

I’ve been staring at that picture of the tree above, with its old, bulky roots, for a few days, as the violence that has once again rocked America has once again led to a chorus of outcry for change. Perhaps what we need is a change in mindset to remember our roots as human beings.

As President John F. Kennedy once said, “For, in the final analysis, our most basic common link is that we all inhabit this small planet. We all breathe the same air. We all cherish our children’s future. And we are all mortal.”

That mortal part, we do not seem to value it enough.

One of these days, we’re going to wake up, I think.

One of these days, we’re going to realize we’re killing each other over senseless anger, I think.

One of these days, a friend will call and simply ask how it’s going, I think.

One of these days, the headlines won’t be filled with both the tragic and the trivial, I think.

I think I might be wrong.

One of these days, we’re going to reap it.

One of these days, someone with their finger on a very important button will go too far.

One of these days, we’ll just stop responding to texts and calls.

One of these days, we’ll just give up.

I hope I am wrong.

Yes, Black Lives Matter. And white lives matter. Asian lives matter. Christian lives matter. Muslim lives matter. Young lives matter. Old lives matter. American lives matter. Russian lives matter. Iraqi lives matter. Women’s lives matter. Men’s lives matter.

Our short-sighted solution to respond to an event by pulling into tighter, highly defined groups of ethnicity, race, gender or religion isn’t working. We’re dividing ourselves further and playing into the devil’s hand of hate.

In 1963, most of the world watched in astonishment as President Kennedy was assassinated in Dallas. Last night, nearly 53 years later, mere blocks from Dealey Plaza where Kennedy was assassinated, five Dallas police officers were assassinated by snipers, on the heels of two men shot to death by police in Minnesota and Louisiana.

We’re regressing, America.

We can argue about guns and who can have them, or if it makes sense to allow military grade weapons available to civilians all day long. We can get snarky about deleted e-mails or business ethics of presidential candidates for months. But that’s not the division that ails us.

Simply put: how do we legislate kindness, compassion – or the simple ability to leave each other alone?

On Monday, the United States celebrated its 240th birthday. As majestic fireworks filled the sky, I doubt I was alone in pondering the sheer awe of time that had passed since those responsible for declaring our independence had put ink to their cause.

I also wondered how long we have left, how much has changed since the late 1700s in the world and how one of the greatest things about being American is not only freedom, but feeling relatively safe in our everyday lives.

We are no longer safe. And if we are no longer safe, we are no longer free.

When guns are fired from downtown skyscraper parking garages (Dallas) or from interstate overpasses (Washington, D.C. many years ago), when people are shot in their cars reaching for their wallets (Louisiana) you start questioning your safety nearly all the time.

All this does is serve to separate us more. We pull back into our homes, our neighborhoods and stay out of the cities and protests. Freedom to assemble shouldn’t have to come from the fear of being shot.

The song remains the same. We’re dividing ourselves.

Technology and social media have put a wedge in our society. We might be perhaps more disconnected that we were hundreds of years ago, when there were far fewer of us and our homes were miles apart.

We all have a voice and opinion and want to be heard.

The problem is, no one is saying anything worth hearing.

We market ourselves in blur of posts and pictures. If the intent was to be connected with people we don’t see as much anymore, maybe that was an itch we didn’t need to scratch if this is all we plan to do with it. If we wanted to see and talk to all those old friends and family more, would distance matter? We could still pick up a phone and catch up.

We’re a nation of creepers on social media, as if a picture of smiles and 140 characters of text tell the whole story. No one is perfect. But we pretend to be, and we’d prefer to take swipes at other people – their errors and mistakes – by calling them out on social media.

We’re jealous and envious of those with seemingly more than us.

It’s either that or the common obsession we have to know who Taylor Swift is dating now. And as much as I think we’re all a little too interested in celebrity boyfriends and girlfriends gossip, it’s probably the former.

We’re on social media to stalk people we used to like or be close to, but aren’t anymore and this is our totally American way of snooping in from time to time on their life.

So many angry people in the world, yet they all look happy in the photos.

What does this have to do with the most recent tragedies in Dallas, Louisiana and Minnesota? The same as it did for Columbine, Sandy Hook, Aurora, Fresno and more.

Simply put, we just don’t treat each other very well and we’re hiding behind two things: a lack of self-esteem and insecurity.

I usually try to come up with a positive message at the end here, to tie it all together, to provide a spark of hope in an otherwise dark moment.

All I can come up with this time is that we can only take care of ourselves. Preaching, lecturing isn’t working. To be the change you want to see in the world, I suppose it’s the Nike tagline.

Just do it.

If we raise our children right, hug our spouse, wave to the neighbors, keep our commitments and just try our best to not stab each other in the back, shutdown the apps a little more, we’ll hopefully lay down an example to the next generation.

It would be nice if we were happy in the life we have, not the life we want others to perceive we have.

Worried about what to do yourself? Want your voice to matter in the world? At a loss of how to raise your children to avoid this in the future?

Start there.

Love yourself, your family and your life. Be proud of who you are and kind to those who aren’t like you. The young ones are watching.

And maybe, one of these days, they will have a chance to save us.

One of these days, I hope I am right.

American culture, NFL, Peyton Manning, Society & Culture, Tom Brady, Uncategorized

The Intervention of a Sports Addict

Sports are a drug.

They’ve probably always been a drug, and always will be a drug.

They soothe us, distract us, energize us, unite us, divide us, and entertain us.

They also blind us.

Americans are sports junkies.

And what do addicts do?

Deny that a problem or addiction exists in the first place. They ignore the obvious. They defend the indefensible. They keep right on using.

But they’ll ruin you. Mess up your mind.

You don’t believe me, do you?

So how about the fact that sports will make you deify someone you’ve never met? Doubt me?

Let me prove it to you.

How do you feel about Tom Brady? And now, how do you feel about Peyton Manning?

Allow yourself to independently judge both of these legends’ and their recent “situations.”

You couldn’t do it, could you?

Manning’s stories are promptly dismissed as “hit” jobs by people who want to tear him down through accusations of HGH and a young college kid who behaved immaturely.

Yet Brady’s stories are treated as fact, despite the little evidence produced in the 12 months since Deflategate began to actually prove 1) anything actually happened and 2) most importantly as it concerns Brady himself, that he had anything to do with it if the balls were actually deflated by humans.

The NFL still slings it out in court to prove they have the right to punish a player under the CBA, missing the entire point that, you know, you have to actually have proved the player should be punished at all. To do this, they uncovered thousands of e-mails and phone records to try and link Brady to it.

All we found out is he wants to play longer than Manning, he’s got an ego and he weirdly cares a lot about swim pool covers.

On the other side of the coin, Manning has seen his image take a hit over allegations that date back 20 years that he was basically a pervert to a female trainer at the University of Tennessee. This is on top of the allegations that he received several shipments of HGH (or his wife did) that coincide with his neck injury rehabilitation a few years back.

The Tennessee story has been out there since 1996 and Manning has settled the dispute twice – once when it happened and apparently again when he brought the trainer’s name up in a book. Why this is resurfacing now has everything to do with his name being attached to a Title IX lawsuit against Tennessee and it being 2016, the age of rabid, social media heathenry.

Meanwhile, it has been revealed that NFL players were shorted $100 million in revenues. The league office dismissed it as an accounting error. Anybody make a $100 million mistake at their job wouldn’t have a job the next day. Yet this story is not currently gaining much traction. Why?

Because we’ve already given them the money, so we don’t care if the rich players get richer or the rich owners are even richer. It’s monopoly money to us, anyway.

No, no, we addicts, we care about sentiment, about legacy, about being able to emphatically agree on some fantasy ranking of the greatest ever.

And we care about this all because it says a lot about who we are – at least so we think subconsciously. We attach ourselves to these athletes and these teams so we can go through the pain of losing and the joy of winning together. Brady backers love the underdog story, Manning’s fans stuck by him through all the “he can’t win the big one” years. To us, this loyalty proves something about us.

We can’t like the wrong guy, we can’t be wrong, we can’t have invested in the wrong guy or bought into who he is as a person.

There’s a lot on the line for us average Jill and Joe’s because we’ve convinced ourselves that our fandom matters to other fans. We made it clear who we support – and not only is our guy better, but they are a better person, too.

Except for one, small problem.

It means nothing. We don’t know any of these people. We don’t know what they are like behind closed doors. We don’t know how kind they are or how ruthless they are or how sleezy they might be.

They might be innocent, they might be guilty. The vast majority of us have no clue. And yet we sports junkies feed the beast. We listen to the sports talk shows rattle on and on about it, driving up ratings, making them talk about it more. We click the stories all over social media, prompting more stories to be written about it.

We’re sheep. Inmates in a sports asylum walking around with blinders on, believing in sports and sports figures as if it was a religion. We’re dopes, buying the gear, buying the tickets at astronomical prices, buying into the belief systems and serious manner in which it’s all treated.

We’ve been sucked into world within our world where we think this stuff actually matters, like debating if four minutes is enough of a suspension for Ben Simmons cutting class last week?

I don’t know, and I don’t care anymore. Did that teach Simmons anything? Probably not. Why is he allowed to do that? Why do you care? Didn’t you cut class in college? Does it impact you if he doesn’t go to class?

We want fairness and equality in sports, in college programs? There’s too much money at stake to ever let it happen. We demand from coaches and athletes and administrators that which we ourselves cannot even do in our daily lives. We take shortcuts. We skip out. We complain. We don’t give max effort every single day.

But we sure expect everyone else in sports to. After all, they’ve been given a gift.

So have you.

You just choose to waste it.

Sports and extracurricular activities in general serve in building people in a variety of ways from a young age. They teach teamwork, dedication, commitment, perseverance and hard work to name just a few.

And wanting to be a part of that, as a parent or a fan, or both is good too. But too much of anything can turn into something you never intended – like convincing yourself that someone you’ve never met is good or evil, the embodiment of everything you love about sports – or everything you loathe.

Just be wary of absolutes.

Absolutes lead down a path of yelling at officials at a soccer game for four-year-olds. They make you crazy enough to attack someone physically in the parking lot after a game. Or throw batteries at Santa Claus (we’re looking at you, Philadelphia).

They make you believe in someone else that, like you, is human and fallible. Better yet, these absolutes have led you to wear the jersey of a character, a portrayal, an image of who that person wants you to see and believe.

I know this isn’t easy to admit. I know you think I’m crazy, that sports don’t control your life and that you couldn’t possible “worship” another human being so blindly.

But just go back to the beginning. What do you know and believe about Tom Brady? And what do you know and believe about Peyton Manning. Ask yourself which one is right and wrong, good and evil, guilty or innocent.

And now remember that it’s a trick question: you don’t know them or their situations – only what their enemies or their mouthpieces have allowed you to.

In other words, you don’t know Peyton Manning or Tom Brady. Or Michael Jordan. Or Tiger Woods. Or Bob Knight. Or Serena Williams. Or Dean Smith. Or Kobe Bryant. Or Tim Duncan. Or LeBron James. Or Andre Aggasi. Or Danica Patrick.

No matter how much you think you do.

The first step is to admit there’s a problem.

Sports are a drug.

They soothe us, distract us, energize us, unite us, divide us, and entertain us.

And they most certainly blind us.

American culture, Life, Philosophy, Uncategorized

Drunk America

There is a hilarious recurring character on Saturday Night Live called “Drunk Uncle” that shows up from time to time on Weekend Update. Bobby Moynihan delightfully portrays the classic embodiment of every family member we distance ourselves from at holiday gatherings, who might be slightly drunk, slightly racially biased or worse, both.

At least, that was the starting point for the concept of the character. In more recent years and appearances, really Drunk Uncle has become the curmudgeon everyman, sarcastically and unapologetically pointing out how different the world has become through technology. His sweater and jacket combo are the same as his plight: the world kind of sucks right now.

Drunk Uncle – Graduation

As funny as these skits are, it is even funnier that most people laugh at the jokes, then turn around and find themselves doing many of the same things Drunk Uncle is condemning. Whether it is the off-handed slurs or the over-use of technology to promote oneself, we should be laughing at ourselves.

The problem is, we are so narcissistic, we don’t get that we are the punchline.

America is running afoul and we, as citizens, are too concerned with our own image and personal public relations campaign to notice. A misstep and we simply say we’re being individuals. We write off most things by throwing out catchy phrases, as pointed out in this New York Times piece.

“You do you”? “It is what it is”? “Keeping in real”? What the heck does any of that even mean, anyway? Of course you are doing you, who else would you be doing? Wouldn’t you doing someone else just be an imposter? It certainly is not what it is not. And why is there a strong need to keep things real? When did things become fake that we had to tell people we are keeping our feet on the ground?

We are always doing us. Sometimes it’s angry you, depressed you, happy you, volatile you, sarcastic you, hurt you, compassionate you, betrayed you, joyful you, religious you, feisty you, helpful you or spiteful you, but it’s always you.

Oh, but we like to pretend. We enjoy putting on the show of who we want the world to think we are. From trolling comment sections, Facebook posts and Twitter feeds, we’re all about that face.

Being insensitive, being narcissistic, being flat-out self-centered is not a license to write off your actions with “h8trs gonna h8!” This has wormed its way into society like a catchy pop song – oh, wait, it was a catchy pop song.

No, we’re not gonna hate.

We’re not allowed to even remotely look like we’re the eighth cousin, twice removed from hate. Then again, should you slightly, distantly look like you’re heading toward a path of hate, Haterade will rain down in buckets like you just won the national championship of hate.

Just please don’t look at the skeletons in our closet, right? Nothing to see here, move along! You do you, right?

(I did learn, it’s OK, however, to talk about hate in the past tense, as long as it involves Christian Laettner.)

Americans always seem ready and willing to stand and fight injustice – right after we’ve been shown just how bad it is by someone else, all the while ignoring our own issues and faults.

Anyone who tries to take away equality, or slightly resembles to treat different groups without equality is going to see a whole lot of what Indiana saw this past week (and what it will continue to see if something isn’t changed).

It makes very little difference any more what is real or true about the bill that was passed, all that matters now is the fallout. The state is in the midst of a PR nightmare, one that has already been lost. The window has closed, the verdict sealed.

The world of social media has tried Indiana, it’s legislators, it’s governor, it’s people and passed down its verdict – there is no stopping the court of public opinion. Forget arguing that you can inform the uninformed, or “convince” anyone anything different than what they’ve already heard and believed.

The media dominates, writes the story, and controls the narrative. It is completely naïve to think otherwise. And the power of the medium allows for quick dissemination of a whole truckload of judgement, condemnation and reaction – and reaction to the reaction of a reaction.

Supporters say the bill is to defend religious freedom, opponents claim the law discriminates. We’ll never truly know.

It’s possibly safest to assume that both sides are correct. It’s always somewhere in the middle – a place we refuse to go or even visit. Compromise is one of the hardest places to find and it’s not labeled on any map. Siri can’t help you. Compromise does not allow it’s picture to be taken. It has too much humility to pose for a selfie, too much dignity to be reduced to a hashtag.

And this is why it eludes us.

We all have a sphere of influence; we just greatly misconstrue what to do with it. Social media allows you to build and sell your brand. Every post you make, every favorite, like, share and retweet.

Now, this may or may not be who you actually are – but that does not really matter. It is what you show the world you are. You are marketing you, and you build your brand.

If you want to change the world, hate won’t beat out hate. Shaming others won’t do it either. You cannot change the world, you can really only change your world – and by doing so, through your sphere of influence, the world around slowly changes over time.

So many people tell us of the ills of society (just check your news feed). They will complain (check your news feed). They will condemn others who do not think and act as they do (maybe you should check your news feed). They will tell you that you are, in fact, wrong (you might find examples in your news feed). Now how many times when someone told you that you were wrong did it actually change your mind? (Bet it’s not in your news feed.)

I’ll venture a guess: Zero.

The message is half as important as the messenger.

Throughout history, powerful orators – great messengers who would no doubt come up with far better handles and hashtags – have influenced mass amounts of people to do really great things.

They have also persuaded entire populations to do really dumb things, terrible or horrific things.

The difference between disagreeing and intolerance is a thin line, and we are unaware that we have crossed it until it is too late. The same holds true then in how we conduct ourselves with others in person.

Life cannot be done as it is on social media. It is not a hashtag. Some of this stuff is real and important and needs to be treated as such.

Intolerance? Hatred? Unwilling to compromise?

Americans drunk on ego?

That’s not you?

Hopefully, that’s not anybody.

American culture, Donald Sterling, NBA, Uncategorized

A Wrong to Write

Over the past week, as Donald Sterling’s disturbing remarks came to light and the world reacted, I watched it unfold. From the statements to the ban to the talk of boycotts, I just listened, read and absorbed.

But for the first time, I wrote nothing.

It was not for lack of something to say, an angle or an opinion. Anyone who has read what I write about knows that I have no problem diving into a topic, sensitive or not, and navigating through it with thoughtful intent.

On Thursday, I finally had a complete, nuanced outline in my head of what I wanted to say on Sterling and the entire situation. About halfway through putting it from brain to laptop, a dear friend texted me and asked me what I thought and why I had not posted something about it.

I bounced my draft his way. It was a thought-provoking piece about race, racism, and the new social media justice that has evolved into a speedy, mob mentality that we should be fearful of should the topic not be something we could universally agree on (you know, like Donald Sterling being a slumlord scumbag who should certainly not own a basketball team.) I asked if there was anything in it that could somehow be misconstrued or viewed as insensitive – certainly the last thing anyone wants, but especially on this topic.

His response was probably more thought-provoking than my piece.

“It’s good, and you certainly spent a good enough amount of time making sure it was crystal clear that you didn’t agree with Sterling while making an entirely valid point. Freedom of speech and this social media component are an important distinction from this particular topic, but some might not make that distinction. You have to ask is it worth it for you? The sad part to me is that you even have to think about it.”

It wasn’t the response I was expecting, and it affected me. Why was I struggling to post it? Why did I wait so long? Was it because of the topic?

That’s not me – or at least it used to not be. More frequently than ever, I pass on stories that I feel I have a well-informed, researched and thought provoking opinion on. The mental war over what the fallout of negativity might be is just not worth it. This makes me slightly sad.

Are there more out there like me? Writers and journalists and bloggers afraid to post about certain topics because of the mob mentality of social media and the speed of judgment made now in America? I re-read my draft on the Sterling situation and found at least eight different instances where I used multiple adjectives to describe how disgusting I personally found the man to be – whilst trying to make a broader point about being careful how quickly we react. I was so concerned to make one thing clear (I’m not racist) that it was interfering with my other points (social media has changed how we react, is this a good thing?, etc.).

Do I really need to guard myself that much?

This is my passion. I admired and devoured the work of Frank Deford, Tony Kornheiser, Gary Smith, Ralph Wiley, Malcolm Gladwell, Chuck Klosterman and Bill Simmons growing up. I favorite author is probably George Orwell. Kornheiser’s piece on Nolan Ryan from the 1980 Sporting News is perhaps one of the finest pieces of long-form I’ve ever read. And Deford’s “The Deer Hunter” piece on Bob Knight in the fall of 1980 for Sports Illustrated rivals it.

Wiley’s catalog stands next to most as some of the best, thought-provoking and ingenious writing I’ve ever come across. I was deeply saddened when he passed away too young. Simmons was the first to use the internet, pop-culture and sports and wrap it up into a massive piece that left you laughing for hours.

Writing is an art. It is powerful. It has always inspired me because I believe words can inspire others, sway them, inform them and move them. Which is why I was perplexed by my hesitation to post what I knew would be a good take on this mess with Donald Sterling, the NBA, race and social media.

But I didn’t feel safe enough to post it because frankly – regardless if it was this topic or not – free speech is dying, if not dead. There are too many topics that immediately spark a response – no matter what the take or angle, no matter how thoughtful and sincere. You’re better off making fun of PED users, bad calls and questioning the NCAA than you are to actually discuss the nuanced issues facing both sports and society.

The reason free speech is dying is because of the very place that would seem to promote its use the most: the Internet.

Twitter and Facebook have caused a rapid shift in society and our culture. You can share whatever you want, but whatever you share is spread more rapidly than ever before. And it is not only shared, but dissected and rapidly responded to.

On the surface, this seems good. We tend to associate speed with progress – like the swift speed of booting Sterling from the NBA in 72 hours. In 1914, this would have taken months, if not years. In 2014, we do it in a matter of hours.

And as I said in the Sterling piece I will not be posting, that’s just fine in this instance. But is it fine because we all agree on who it was and what was said? What happens if the topic is more ambiguous next time? Will we still move so rapidly towards the decision?

How many times do you write something snarky on someone’s Facebook post or reply to a Tweet without truly thinking about what you are saying? What implications there might be in 10 minutes, 10 hours or 10 days? You don’t think, because you are reacting. And reacting is 100 percent emotional and spontaneous.

Social media has increased the speed and the volume of reaction and therefore emotion. We have a lot of emotion in the social media world today. This emotion, this anger over your opinion, mine and theirs is what leads to the reduction of use of free speech.

Free speech is a principle. You may not agree with it in its various forms, but the point it supposed to be that it is allowed. Like so many, I cannot fathom how Donald Sterling thinks the way he does in 2014. It is beyond insensitive, beyond embarrassing and beyond rational.

Free speech is also not something to hide behind. You cannot run from your words, or avoid a fallout. There can and will be consequences for the things we say – as there were and should be for Sterling. But if the person still wants to say something, under the Bill of Rights, it is allowed.

The absolute key, however, is that to check and balance this, we must make sure we do not lump in allowance with tolerance or permanence. They are each separate entities.

A principle has to be defended because it is a principle, not because we all happen to agree in this instance it was violated was for a perfectly good reason. The Sterling situation is obvious; what do we do and how do we react if this happens again, but it’s not about race? Are religious comments OK? How about sexual orientation? What happens when there are other shades of gray and moral ambiguity involved?

Why we must practice some patience is because of that very thing: next time. Here, the punishment and the reaction were befitting and deserving in this instance because we all agree it was offensive and there is no place for racism in this country.

But we must be aware it will now serve as a reference point to any and all future situations that may not be so unifying. Better still, how do we feel about social media being able to so quickly affect decisions in this country, in our society?

This is a real thing, and it’s a reason that someone like me, who loves writing more than most and has been doing it for years, is left wondering whether I should or can freely express my opinions anymore.

Then again, I guess I just did.

Sigh.

I should have just scraped this whole thing and wrote jokes about quarterbacks and crab legs.

Twitter loves that sort of thing.

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