An obit for Nuance

And other things now extinct.

Nuance died recently. No one could say exactly when because no one was paying much attention.

There’s a lot of casualties in these ‘post truth’ end-times we reside in so it seems shallow to devote a few words to something like nuance. I mean, by definition it’s subtle. Overlooked.

After all, life in a 2024 America is an ever changing spin cycle of dopamine outrage that leaves a state of cultural amnesia in its wake. More an more, it seems that critical thinking has been replaced by an unwelcome adaptation — magical thinking. No wonder we have lost the ability to think for ourselves and perceive depth. The system has been designed to erode that.

And depth, meaning, things with multiple layers. Nuance — has been made redundant. And is sometimes a liability.

Nuance, by definition, demands attention. It requires us to push past our own barriers of perception, engage with the fact that we have bias — even bias we are not aware of — and grapple with uncomfortable truths that sometimes stand in opposition. We must exert ourselves to see a thing for what it is. But unfortunately we have been dulled. We seem to have scuttled are ability to hold two opposing things because… I don’t know … lets just blame climate change.

And let me be clear, this breakdown of nuance isn’t just the fucknut/ far right crazies. You, my fellow pinko-libtards are not immune. We’ve all been caught by The Great Compression. We, too, have reduced much to concentrate to make us comfortable in our beliefs and cling to some kind of permanence, that I fear we couldn’t have the patience to stay with something that isn’t easy. Just because something is important or true doesn’t make it art.

Before I surely offend someone without making my point, let me simply offer up that maybe we could all use a brush up on this thing called nuance.

Before it’s meaning and value fades from view…

Yeah, I know. I’m punchy. You see a friend wrote a play that was recently shut down by one solitary voice with a blog. Who pronounced it retrogressive. It doesn’t matter what it was retrogressive of, but in this case it was offensive toward the cause of transgender rights. The review went viral. The cast wrote a letter and didn't want to be forced to do it, then the theater refused to back them. Because the theater was filled with cowards. Which isn’t a surprise, most theaters in America today are filled with cowards.

The play isn’t retrogressive. I can say that because I read it multiple times as an actor and sometime moderator of a writing lab. And even if it was, which it isn’t, then maybe the theater programmers should have done something about it before they staged it? I mean, surely the theater read the play? Chose to do it? Right? But then all of a sudden one person declares it is offensive and retrogressive and then a story is chewed up by a domino chain of reactionary fuckery. And the theater loses more of its teeth.

I have no problem with anyone saying anything about what they believe. Who they fuck. How they identify as. I fully support that as a god given right that cannot be taken away or questioned, but what I do have a problem with is when someone comes after someone’s work and declares what it is — and then … announces how it should be perceived and decides its fate.

This theater review was not a review at all. It was a witch hunt fueled by psychological projection that dragged a writer through the mud. This witch hunt was only written to stir controversy and stand out from the flotsam and jetsom and generate a few soundbytes for someone with their own agenda who was writing — not to tell people what plays to see but to add likes and followers. And the weapons they used in their drive by, viral hit job were Google search optimization buzz words.

This was someone wanting to use the theater to push forward their agenda. I know… I sound like some right wing nut job - but that is another symptom of a doomed society devoid of any shared cultural identity. We eventually suspect everyone.

Debate the content, the execution of its intent, or its merits, reviewers! But don’t decide for all of us whether someone has the right to tell a story or not.

We are so lame. I can say that as a lefty west coast mother fucker. We go after our own. We eat our children like diseased titans on a virtue parade. And we should all be terrified. We can’t even say cancel culture without risk of being grouped in with nut jobs who think aliens have space lasers that cause hurricanes because you guessed it - we lost - all - sense - of fucking nuance.

Yeah, I’m angry. This is my life work. I worked hard to get good at satire. To find the edge of what is appropriate, to discuss complex matters with nuance. To bring argument to a stage, a public forum, which is its natural habitat. Can we not have argument, discourse, can we not have courtesy? Or is it all sacrificed on the altar of identity.

Yes, our own devolution is exactly what the nutjob fanatics on the other side want. So we will turn against each other. If we can’t see that. we deserve what we get. Unless we can wake from this cultural nightmare.

Good, I feel better. I get Irish when I see a friend I care about have his dream smashed after fighting like hell to have it staged because of one person.

And yes - I fear someone will do it to me. I wrote a play with a pimp in it. I wrote another play that deals with racism in white homes, where people we love and laugh at say awful things. But I think my favorite run in with this trend was the response I got to a film I wrote.

Here is a blurb about what kind of film it is for context:

The institutionalized ladies of LIBERATED must find solidarity if they are to hang on to their loose morals and wild ideas about equality and not be married off to aging Industrialists as the culmination of their absurd “rehabilitation.” The Great Escape set in the Gilded Age. But instead of Steve McQueen, we have women with flower pot hats.

I had a young story exec say, in all seriousness, what made me uniquely qualified to write this as a white man?

I didn’t know what to say. So I said the truth. Well, I was at dinner with my brother and sister and they said we had relatives back in the 1880s who were locked up for hysteria, as women were in those days. And I stared researching and wanted to write a prison escape chick flick. I didn’t know I had to wear a corset to do it.

What makes our cultural black hole so unique is that I believe our censorship is self-induced. We don’t even have party officials to dupe, like artists under regimes, in other times. We just live in existential fear. And you cannot create, express yourself freely and fear reprisal at the same time. Something is lost. And it is nuance.

And what is that fear? That if we are honest, we will be seen as unwoke. Or worse - one of them. How retrogressive can you get? I got another two words for you. Fuck you. Is that retrogressive enough? We should all have our head examined.

Because the truth is, I may have just did or said something here that can be taken out of context and used against me. Oh my. Will this thing I did not know I did because of insensitivity just jeopardize that TV show I am bringing to market? Oh my.

We don’t need another Red Scare. What we need is tolerance and open mindedness and acceptance. And all our voices. Oh and some fucking nuance.