Commandments 11 Through 14

I only have 44 minutes to write this week’s blog. Blog Day was officially yesterday, but I spent my allotted time writing something that ended up too cranky to publish. So I’m trying again and posting the result whether it’s good or bad, because I’m the boss of my blog, and I believe it will get me “discovered,” like the woman who wrote the screenplay for Juno, without first having to become a stripper.

Here’s my beef: an anti-drug organization recently launched an e-mail petition that asked everyone to agree that drugs are bad. But then, if you didn’t sign and forward the petition, which proposed no further action, “your selfishness would know no bounds.”

Sadly, my selfishness does know some bounds. I don’t see the point in feeling guilty about not doing something that won’t actually do anything. Signing (or typing) your name and then giving it to other people you believe will do the same won’t convince anybody to “just say no” because it’s preaching to the choir, unless the friends you send it to happen to be sitting in front of the 7-11, checking their e-mail one last time before getting stoned. This so-called petition only puffs up the signers for having done some good, when no actual good was done. What can honestly be achieved with so little effort? You could take the five seconds it took to type your name and hit forward, and instead pluck a dollar from your wallet and donate it to MADD or Habitat for Humanity, or any do-good organization. At least once a week, the cashiers at my grocery store ask me to hand over a buck to fight lymphoma or some itis or osis, and I always say yes.* It doesn’t cost much, but it costs something.

The thing is, you don’t get something for nothing. (A lot of the time, you don’t even get something for something.) So stop forwarding e-mails that break the 11th through 13th Commandments: paranoia, guilt, and schmaltziness. If the e-mail draws upon the excessive use of angels, colored text, or the disclaimer “This was verified on Snopes.com,” think before you forward. If it promises that you will burn in Hell if you don’t comply, think. There are times you may still want to forward a dopey message, if the message outweighs the dopiness. For example, you’re sharing a safety alert IN PURPLE about falling out the window because you, personally, have fallen out the window, or you have some choice piece of information that no other reasonably well-informed adult is privy to. Because, you know what? We all get the news, whether it’s from Jon Stewart or The Economist. We know (sorta) how to prevent identity theft, eat right, and not get poisoned by toilet bowl cleaner, and none of us can afford to waste time passing on empty threats and promises.

If you’re really smart, you may feel confident applying the lesser-known 14th Commandment, called Know Thine Audience. Then, you can pick and choose who gets the e-mails about fluffy animals (mostly females, current pet owners, and people without allergies) and who gets the ones about keeping potassium iodide in the house in case of a nuclear event (your grandma and everyone she knows).

I realize that no one will ever forward me anything, ever again. I’ll miss the photos of kittens being nursed by dogs, toddlers flushing interesting objects down the toilet, and the news that a meteor is going to destroy the earth at 10:32 this evening. I won’t miss the threats of ostracism if I fail to participate in the next chain mail. Because, believe me, a crab like me can think of plenty o’ ways to get myself ostracized, without having to resort to mumbo jumbo.

However, if the world really is going to end tonight? Please tell me. I’ll tell you—and your 115 best friends.


*Well, once I said no, but I’m not a saint.