When Robin Williams took his own life, we needed a national conversation on depression. In the wake of the Ferguson riots we had to have a national conversation on race, not to mention the pressing need for a national conversation on police brutality. There are even calls for a national conversation on airline seats. (What we really need is somebody to invent a teleportation device.) And, of course, every tragic accident involving a weapon requires a national conversation on getting rid of guns.
The funny thing about this grossly overused and exhausted snippet of language is that it inevitably comes from politicians and televised talking heads… precisely the people who are not in a position to have a conversation with anyone. You see, the entire concept behind a “conversation” is the back and forth aspect of it, with multiple people contributing to the discussion. But the people barking at you from podiums and news set desks are broadcasting, not conversing. What they really mean is that they don’t like the way that far too many of the hoi polloi are thinking and they want to correct you.
I’ve got news for the high and mighty rulers in government and the chatterboxes on the national news. We already have national conversations. We have them every day around dinner tables and in bars and in the break room at work and with our neighbors when we’re out mowing our lawns and – yes – in the comments sections of blogs and discussion forums on the web. We offer solutions or point out the shortcomings in yours. We share our hopes and dreams We rant and we rave. Some of us troll. Some just lurk and take it all in. And it would probably benefit you to realize that we don’t always agree with whatever genius idea you’ve cooked up to solve the latest hysterical crisis of the day. If you really want to have a national conversation on anything, maybe a good starting point would be to begin listening to what we’re already saying.
Here that media and political elitists?