I don’t want to talk.

The car is what’s doing it most.  Being in a car changes people, being in a car changes me.  This is an example of my reacting to the evils of other people and looking like the devil. The car is where one first experiences tribalism.

I know about the lowest common denominator. I also just looked at the People of WalMart site, to my detriment.  Those people exist, and so do the ones who take the photographs. “I am just as bad, I’m part of the cycle.” No. A gentleman in a minivan just drove 85 miles per hour to edge me out on Second Avenue. I know this because I was curious as to how badly he wanted to beat me, so I drove about 80.  He was flying on a city street, it was very dangerous. “I’m just as bad as him.”  No, I am not.

Let’s explore the concept called tribalism. I see douchebag muscleheads tailgating at sporting event. They laugh at something about me as I walk by.  If I grew up next-door to a person like that, we would be friends. I did grow up next to people like that, and we are friends.  But since I don’t know these particular douchebags, they hate me and attempt to intimidate me as to walk by to a different tailgate party. I am kind of a douchebag myself, and that makes this tribalistic event that much more the curious.  When I get to the party,  100 yards away,  I find the guests to be cut from the same cloth as the people I passed in each “encampment” on the way across the parking lot. But I know these people, and we embrace and laugh, even though I hate tailgate parties. When we go into the game, the miniature tribes suspend differences in order to unite for a greater cause, in this case a baseball game. Now, we make up a larger tribe that will intimidate any opposing tribesmen, who are dressed in  red and white. If a larger external threat arises, the very large assembled tribes will join forces. The phenomenon is continuous, such that the whole Earth will unite against a threat from outer space. A stranger is a friend you haven’t met yet.


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