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I've actually considered writing a book about this (although one already exists). I'm interested on your take, TK.

After you come up with something, I'll share a poem with the same title I came across the other day.

I've actually considered writing a book about this (although one already exists). I'm interested on your take, TK. After you come up with something, I'll share a poem with the same title I came across the other day.

(post is archived)

[–] • 2 pts

Shame iin my experience is useless, it's only ever exploited by the shameless anyway.

Make a full post if you have the time.

[–] • 0 pt

I'm not here to tell you what you think is objectively "right" or "wrong", but the use of shame, whether or not anyone enjoys how it affects anyone or anything, certainly has an effect on us and our surroundings. What I'm interested in, however, is exactly how humans use shame.

I'm here to tell you that it certainly is useful. Don't get me wrong, I'm not a fan of all of the reasons someone would use shame, but if you think there aren't ways it can be useful, we'd have to just disagree up front.

[–] • 0 pt

Forgive me for my misspellings.

I fucked up my new laptop, trying to adjust it.

Now the old laptop is the only thing left to type on.

And you want to know about shame, and the utility of it.

So I guess my only choice us to tell you about my childhood.

Back in the bad days of Philadelphia, I had liberal parents who had purchased a fairly large house in a largely Italian/Ukrainian section of Philadelphia. The Italians and Ukrainians mostly sent there children to Catholic school, while my parents chose to send me to public school, because that would look better, and more progressive.

So I went to school there. From Kindergarten until 6th grade. And, Holy Shit, did I learn a lot.

I was always nice, I was always polite.

But my parents, despite their idiocy, educated me very well at home.

My Father hung up a large Mercator Projection of a world map next to my bed, something I slept next to as a child. I spent many hours looking at it, studying it, and memorizing it. I truly loved that map.

Eventually I got to 3rd grade in the American Public School Education System, and I had a teacher who taught me something that was against everything I had learned previously.

Especially the things I had learned from a map.

She told me sweet, gentle, lies.

I was in a classroom, and we were discussing Geography.

She told me that because the North Pole was cold, the South Pole was hot.

I disagreed with her, attempting to tell her that distance from the equator mattered more when it comes to temperature, but she would not relent.

"Children, do you Alabama is cold? It isn't, I've been there. This child wants you to think that the South is cold. It ain't. North pole is cold, the South is hot."

And then, young as I was, I realized the utility of shame.

I am a fucking retard. I have little to expect from this life.

But I was shamed that day, and I did realize that I was not wrong.

And that is the utility of shame.

[–] • 1 pt

Remember the utility of shame,

On which in part our decency depends.

Such sentiments evolved to serve our ends,

Having given ballast to one’s name.

How apt that to ourselves we be revealed

As time pauses in between the years,

Season of incantatory tears,

Harrowed for the sins we have concealed.

Allow your shame full access to your heart,

Nor flinch from bearing witness to your part,

As only what is treated can be healed,

Here, now, while your fate is still unsealed.