If you ever heard me truly speak my mind, you would see that my sociopolitical/philosophical/metaphysical/religious views (all bundled into a single, syncretic, indescribable model of the world around me) are those of a rather unconventional nature. Some would say, “dangerously radical”.
And yet – for all the incompatibility of what I am with what most bipedal sentient beings on this planet are, right now – the only sort of people I truly have a problem with is the sort that has problems with other people.
Let’s put it this way… An innocent example. I cannot stand contemporary mainstream music, all those hip hops, r’n’b’s and what not. I hate its very sound. But it does not mean I hate those who listen to it or those who produce it.
Up until the moment those r’n’b fans start looking down their noses at me because I much prefer that oh-so-not-hip underground European metal.
And whenever some “aficionado” of, say, opera – another genre I am totally in love with – starts bashing the fans of other genres of music (even hip hop fans), I will get extremely angry at that person.
It does not mean I will necessarily be impolite or physically aggressive towards that self-righteous jerk – but I will involuntarily despise him/her/whomever.
And if some people decide to go out and hurt or abuse others (no matter, physically or mentally) simply because those others listen to different music / have a different skin colour / go to a different church or no church whatsoever / identify as a different creature/class/gender/whatever – those people will never have my respect. And there is a good chance of me advocating a bit of a taste of their own medicine.
And of course, I do reserve the right to object to unsolicited public performance of said r’n’b (or even operatic metal) right under my balcony when I am trying to sleep or work.
I hope that it’s clear that music here is used as a metaphor for just about anything else.
I will not explicitly preach my religion (while, in truth, every step I take and every word I write is me actually living my religion) onto unsuspecting hapless victims. And I don’t want to be preached to, either.
Unless I ask.