More Than Words, Redux

I can’t believe I’m even having to write this, but here goes. 

Words matter. 

Words inspire: 

I have a dream.

Words heal: 

Today is a day for mourning and remembering.

Words hurt:

Words about sexuality, bodily functions, bleeding from orifices mentionable and unmentionable, grabbing them by the p—, moving on her “like a b—-“, hitting on, compulsively kissing. 

Words can be gifts. 

Words can be tools. 

Words can be powerful weapons. 

Words can shame. 

Words can affirm. 

Words have launched revolutions and created bold experiments in democracy. 

Words can take us, very quickly, from wondering what is going on in someone’s mind to the shocking revelation of what is really there. 

This is about oh so much more than politics, my dear readers. 

This is about simple human decency. 

This is about respecting the worth and dignity of every human being just because they do indeed have an inherent worth. 

This is about keeping private things private, intimate things intimate, and dangerous things contained. 

This is about social order and common decency and relationships in societies and institutions that are built on trust and cooperation and compromise and goodwill. 

This is about building up, not walling off or tearing down. 

This is about unsullied generations unborn and what we owe them, not flawed generations past and what they might owe us. 

This is about being more than Democrats or Republicans or white or black or northerners or southerners or Muslim or Christian or Jew. 

This is about more than nationality and pride. 

This is about being decent, forthright, respectful, restrained, dignified human beings. 

Listen to me, a humble writer who has made more than his share of mistakes using the spoken and written word. 

Words matter. 

Words matter. 

Words. Truly. Matter. 

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