self-indulgent ramblings from a girl who clings with one hand to the rim of a black(pigeon)hole whilst giving the universal sign with the other

Oh, give me land, lots of land under starry skies above,
Don’t fence me in.
Let me ride through the wide open country that I love,
Don’t fence me in.
Let me be by myself in the evenin’ breeze,
And listen to the murmur of the cottonwood trees,
Send me off forever but I ask you please,
Don’t fence me in.
~Cole Porter & Bob Fletcher, 1934

I am definitely (for good and for bad) a girl who follows the beat of her own drum. My Mumma tells me; usually with either a look of pride or of long-suffering patience on her face, I have always been this way.
My stubbornness about what I see as being true to myself is never more obvious then when someone makes assumptions about me because they have or are attempting to pigeonhole me. Believe me; my 170cm of roundness does not fit neatly into a square hole.

In all serious though, I think we probably all have at one time or another been guilty of making generalisations and judgments about people, their actions and beliefs. I know I have certainly done it. I also think a lot of us, me included, are inclined to define ourselves by what we are not. Unfortunately – and this is something I hope I don’t do – some people take this to the extreme of complacently dismissing others ‘outside’ their own rather neatly defined circle.

Stereotyping in this way never ceases to amaze and annoy me. It has always struck me that it is both arrogant and naive at the same time. Arrogant because it assumes that the lofty position from which the person is making these repudiations is the most legitimate; and, naive because such generalisations do not acknowledge in realistic terms the complexity of the world in which we live and the people who live in it.

I do wonder when people pit their like against someone else’s like whether they realise they are perpetuating the concept of there being a ‘right’ or ‘wrong’ position. I must admit I am always amused when such people have to later scramble to cover their arses after the hypocritical nature of their comments is pointed out to them.

Given my personality, it is probably no surprise the exclusiveness of stereotypes is an aspect which particularly riles me. That is, the implication if you like one thing you can only like that one thing to the detriment of all other things.

The latter is the main point of this ramble and is an issue that came to mind after the discussion about urban fantasy, paranormal romance, etc, which first appeared in an article by Lilith Saintcrow at Pat’s Fantasy Hotlist followed by some thought provoking responses at The Book Smugglers and at Babbling about Books & More to name a few.

I don’t understand why or how reading and enjoying one sub-genre means you appear to be restricted to only liking that type of fiction. I find it annoying and insulting when someone tells me who or what I am because I like or agree with something.

To me, this dismissive type of argument also smacks of elitism, especially when you consider we are living in a world where literacy is an issue and audio visual media dominates. So quite frankly, and this is the bottom line for me, who gives a fuck what people are reading as long as they are and they’re enjoying it!

On the other hand, my balancing act could be put down to a case of multi-genre personalities brought on by schizofictionia.

Either that or it’s because I’m Libran.

*Don’t fence me in*

About Kris

Reads, rants, randoms & R+s. You've been warned. BTW, don't follow me if you're a GLBTQQphobic wanker. It won't end well. For you.
This entry was posted in genres, serious randomness, wankfestery, WTF. Bookmark the permalink.

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