I am not writing for people who have victim-narratives
Let me be clear.
I’m not referring to people who have been victimized by con artists, predators, and criminals.
That is quite different from people who have a victim-narrative. These persons keep that story in their back pockets, or wear it like a badge.
They use it at every available opportunity. It’s chronic and life-long.
They don’t try to rise up in life by their own efforts. They’re firmly opposed to merit.
They believe their victim narrative entitles them to gain something for nothing.
The victim story is becoming America’s most important product.
If you’re in the market for one, the government, foundations, and even corporations will show you how to proceed.
I don’t write for people with victim narratives. At best, they inhale information and then use it to justify and embroider their chosen status in life.
In past articles, I’ve jokingly complained that I need a back story and I don’t have a good one. A story that’ll engage the reader’s sympathy.
That’s the ploy of a victim narrative. It sucks people in.
“You must feel sorry for me because this happened, and then that happened, and then this other thing happened…”
“My God, that’s terrible. What can I do to help?”
“Nothing. Well, if you insist, you could…”
In another life, in New York, I knew a guy who floated, every time I talked with him, a Communist victim tale, replete with an encyclopedia of accusations against America—but if you told him to move to Russia, he scoffed at the idea. He knew that if he relocated to his beloved Center of Marxism, he’d have to work. He wouldn’t be able to chisel money from his neighbors or go on Welfare.
If you owned a company and somehow cajoled a bunch of professional victims to come work for you, in a matter of months they’d make your business a living hell.
They’d treat it as a Welfare State. As a target to raid and steal from, in every way possible.
The “milder ones” would just sit around and do nothing. They’d moan and complain and drive you crazy.
In today’s America, for every person you see who parades his victim tale in public, there are probably 50,000 quiet victims who never show their faces and just blow their endless smoke on friends and relatives.
Most politicians love victims, because showing sympathy and making promises is an easy way to garner votes.
On the other hand, politicians tend to ignore actual victims who have been slammed by actual criminals.
These days, the flippity-dippity is making criminals over into victims. That’s a department of the Victim Industrial Complex.
Psychologists and sociologists are hired to do this job. Hey, it pays the bills.
Temptation is tempting. We live in a society where doors are open. “You mean, even though I’m on the hook for this and that, if I tell a story about THIS and THAT, I can skate, I can worm out of my problems? Wow.”
The government counselor says: “I’m not telling you it’s a walk in the park. You’re going to have to jump through some hoops. But I believe there is a way. Let me explain the situation…”
And the situation comes down to: something for nothing.
Fine. But if you go for it, you’re on the path to hardening a victim story, a permanent status tale, and you CAN hear doors closing behind you then.
—When he was a young man, my father was a socialist. His father died when he was 11—leaving him as the man in the family, to take care of his mother, his brother and sister. He quit school and got a job sweeping floors in a factory.