Because I am a writer and a spirited talker, the cancel culture that persists these days really gets under my skin. You know . . . censorship and all that. Words are precious, if not to us all, then to most of us.
And really, I thought that was the extent of my allergy to the very real corporate requirement to walk on egg shells if you want to stay employed (the handbook for my employer actually cautions against asking someone where they’re from, for example).
But yesterday it occurred to me that there’s something darker at work. Something even more fucked up than I realized. It’s the cynical, destructive nature of “cancelling” a thing.
To cancel is to erase. To wipe the thing from the face of the Earth.
And that’s fundamentally opposite the atmosphere, the culture, that I want to be a part of. I want to be a part of Creation Culture.
I want to engage with people who are curious, who imagine a thing and then try to manifest it. People who look at something, anything, and ask a question that begins with “what if” or “why?”.
Creating something is fundamental to what it means to be human. It’s an act, a mindset that looks towards the light. It requires courage and vulnerability. Creation culture is more interesting, more nuanced. The possibilities for exploration are endless.
That’s the only kind of culture I want to be a part of.
New Bayou Books 