It’s been a strange day.
Last night proved to be a thoroughly redemptive exercise in basketball, as my streaky shooting caught fire and I played the way I always want to play, ever the more grateful for the opportunity to play ball the way I used to when I had 9 consecutive years of unfettered access to a gym. Overnight, I struggled a bit with the writing but managed to crank out the requisite short chapter, #50 of 60 overall. Ten to go in eleven days – still not much margin for error.
But today I decided to continue tearing up the promotional charts for the Book Quiz II, both because it’s a relaxing counterpoint to creative writing and it seems to have made some traction with parts of the blogging community that enjoyed the Book Quiz. But it’s also led me to at least three profound interactions with how said quiz has impacted people.
The first was not a direct impact at all, but made the most stirring impression. This individual posted his Book Quiz results (Ulysses) under the titular banner of “No One Understands Meeeeeeee” in August 2007. Less than a year later, he took his own life. The events are unrelated, of course, other than the obvious cry for help in a blog post about a silly Internet quiz. But it was one of those things that prompted reflection on quizzes as a Rorschach test – there’s nothing particularly isolating or crazy about the Ulysses description (it’s not like he got One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest), but he chose to focus on said feelings in relating his titling his post. Given the background color, the blog URL, the general demeanor of all the posts, there were plenty of signs. But it still made me think. And a bit sad that someone who had taken the Quiz was dead in such a manner. Which is silly, because so many people take the quiz and so many people die. But it still felt like something.
The second post to grab my attention was considerably lighter in tone and effect. This was a piece of fanfiction in which the author had envisioned his two chosen characters driving while taking the Book Quiz on the passenger’s laptop. I really enjoyed it, not because of any abiding love of fanfic, but because the depiction of online quiz-taking was so realistic. Well, leaving aside the spottiness of wifi in a moving vehicle. I guess there are those catch-signal-anywhere cards like Brandzy uses.
But the final post was most directly related to the process and mindset of quizzes, their creation, and impact. It was this serious meditation on the impact that the Book Quiz had had on the husband of the blogger who had really enjoyed said quiz. Her husband, a diagnosed sex addict, had gotten Lolita on his second try and was deeply disturbed by the description and its echoes to misperceptions of his disorder. The blogger duly noted my disclaimer (something I had actually considered dropping from the BQ2 because it seemed sort of superfluous when I’m not making fun of countries or states), even to the point of titling the whole post “The Fine Print”. I was pretty moved by the whole narrative, ranging from she and her friends spending much of a hike discussing their BQ results to her husband’s torment at what felt like another rejection of his misunderstood problems. And she comes to a pretty salient conclusion: “When one takes a silly quiz, one agrees to step into the rabbit hole of the mind of the creator and play by the rules of his Wonderland. Taking someone else’s quiz requires that you suspend your disbelief for a few minutes and listen to the advice of the Hookah Smoking Caterpillar.”
Which of course is no small part of the point and something I’ve taken flak for in the past. People have written me upset by the political nature of a given answer or the clearly biased perspective I’m bringing to the table. Some have gone so far as to say that Duck and Cover should just be about cute animals and not have a political message or disagreeable content. Yet I wouldn’t be doing any of these things were it not for their political potential. All meaningful speech, like all meaningful art, is political – and here I mean “political” in the broadest possible sense of that which attempts to change others minds about society or its implications, not the petty squabbling of factions or status quo powers. I remember someone getting infuriated at me for saying that too, but I don’t see how any other perspective is coherent. Everything is trying to change someone’s mind about something. That’s the point of us all being here together instead of on our own individual planets.
Which is not to say that I wanted the blogger’s husband to feel bad about himself or the suicidal person to feel more alone. So maybe I’m failing in my political aims. Though it must be said that no small part of the aim of the quizzes is to bring lightness into people’s day, or just to stir up thought and reflection. Which I think all three examples achieved, in some way, to say nothing of the countless mundane posts celebrating the accuracy or decrying the randomness of the quiz just taken. If nothing else, the quizzes seem to have a remarkable ability to prompt introspection, which is maybe the most political aim I’ll ever espouse.
The more we think, especially about our own attitudes, perspectives, and approaches, the more hope we have.
