What started the article mentioning the "screechweasel" was the following meme:
"The shit you hear about me might be true, but then again it could be as fake as that person who told you."
Here is what David Gerrold wrote about it:
"This one hits home, for so many reasons. In particular because I'm thinking about the person who told some stories about me to some people who were too willing to listen.
When I use the term "harangutan" I'm actually thinking about several different women I knew, who believed that online haranguing was a valid social transaction. (Personally, I prefer rational discussion and it's a skill I continually aspire to master.) I have a different term for ill-behaved men, is that sexist of me? Probably, but the terms I use for ill-behaved men are far more descriptive about their shortcomings, especially in the dick department.
But back to the subject at hand, one of these women in particular was a real screechweasel. (I really love that word, it's so applicable, so descriptive.) She did a lot of damage to a lot of people. She annotated every online relationship, sometimes in public, sometimes in private. It took a while to figure out just how fictitious her narratives really were -- especially the stories she told about her own history. And it took a longer while to figure out that any sustained contact with her would be giving her the privilege of whittling chunks off my own well-being.
A close friend of mine is going through a divorce, and I'm being the best listener I can be while he sorts through his feelings. He's smart and insightful and one of the people on the planet I admire the most, his observations are always worth listening to. He recognized it was time to end the relationship when he realized that he had no influence on his partner -- that the other person in the relationship was not taking his feelings into account, was not really listening to his input on decisions.
Now, over here, I think that if a life partner gives me feedback, I should pay attention to it -- first, because it's probably useful information to have, and second, because I want to show him how much I respect his partnership. It's a way of saying that the two of us together are greater than the two of us apart. So when my friend shared his feelings about not having that complete partnership, I could sense the incompleteness of the relationship and why he felt the divorce was necessary. My take on it is that the partner wants to be comfortable, my friend still wants to challenge himself. And I have a bias in the latter direction. (If you ever catch me arguing for comfort, slap me hard enough to wake me up.)
Okay, so that brings me back to the screechweasel. I believe that a person is entitled to justifiable anger -- a good healthy scream, if necessary; then get on with life. The screechweasel is long gone from my life, but there are lessons I'm still discovering. And this is one of them -- despite the appearance of years of friendship, I had no influence at all on the screechweasel. She monitored, dominated, manipulated, and weaseled a lot of people -- especially her enablers. But if anyone asked her to tone down her own behavior, it was like lighting the fuse on her tampon. (Yes, that's a sexist reference, but in this case it's the mildest way of describing her behavior, deal with it.) The point is, no one had any influence on her at all. No one.
This insight allows me to move way past anger (already did that a long time ago), even past pity for the self-constructed trap she's in, to an even more profound insight -- that those who do not allow themselves to be vulnerable are fossilizing themselves, solidifying into a personality that will only become more and more out of touch as the world around them changes.
Where I'm at now is even a bit of gratitude -- seeing this insight in practice gives me an insight to use, creating a character for a story. Everything is source material. Recognizing it is a bit of mastery.
Now, moving back to the juicy gossip part -- the screechweasel is not the only person I've met who does not listen to others. It's a pernicious trap. It's probably hardwired into our culture, certainly it's part of the problem of the political polarization we're all experiencing -- we're talking at each other, not with each other.
But in its most extreme form -- I've seen the most extreme forms of this behavior in people with mental and emotional disabilities, schizophrenics, severe autistics, psychopaths, sociopaths, people who are on the low end of the Dunning-Kruger effect, and so on -- in its most extreme form, the inability to be open, generous, vulnerable, is the sacrifice of a large part of one's humanity.
In the case of this particular screechweasel, it might be a learned behavior, a response to abusive situations. It's a kind of adult-level obstinate-defiance. (That's the most armchair psychoanalysis I'm going to engage in, but it is based on things the screechweasel shared.) If that's the case, then beyond a firm commitment to avoid any contact with screechweasels as a species, only sorrow and pity are appropriate -- and from a great distance. Because if I as a friend have no influence on that person, then I'm not really a friend. I'm just scenery in that person's world, a spear-carrier, a sidekick, a prop, an object. But not a human being that's being respected.
Meanwhile, I remain grateful for the source material. Because the insight also validates the opposite.
I learned that trick from a fellow named Steve Zaffron -- I gave him a word to look at, he immediately went to its opposite to distinguish the operative distinction. Once I saw how well that trick worked, I started using it a lot.
So if not listening means not allowing others to contribute -- then listening means opening oneself up to all sorts of useful contributions.
Sometimes it is hard to listen, but I see it as one of the necessary elements of growth. Looking, listening, tasting, exploring, discovering ... and more."
To me, the screechweasel he describes sounds just like an N! (I love the way he describes things like "lighting the fuse on her tampon" when the screechweasel was asked to tone down her own behaviors! It rang a few familiar notes of 3-D people I've known in my lifetime!)
