Binge

Binge

L. Stewart Marsden

An Opinion

 

According to the online Merriam-Webster dictionary, one of the definitions of the word “binge” is an unrestrained and often excessive indulgence.

One can binge on food or drink, for example. A favorite dessert (Rocky Road ice cream comes to mind), or to catch up on a made-for-TV series. I binged on Sons of Anarchy to my regret. Twelve billion people were shot, stabbed, blown up or otherwise massacred on that bit of “entertainment.”

Binge is also a party. It’s possible to have a binge binge, where everyone binges on something at a party. Like Rocky Road ice cream, or Sons of Anarchy.  This “party” is not necessarily to be understood as a political one –– but if the shoe fits …

As an eating disorder, binging often morphs into bulimia nervosa  — not considered normal. In point of fact, I’m not sure the word binge is ever considered normal. Not binge-drinking, not binge-eating, not binge-watching. 

Yet it seems to me America is binging, and has been for some time. We binge on the news, and on information gleaned from social media and other bingey sources. It has become the bane of technology — again in my opinion.

We binge on whatever news slant brings us that temporary euphoria and escape from reality. Feed Me! we cry out to the blurred entities behind the supply of information. 

“And how would you like your eggs this morning?” 

“Over-easy with a slab of country ham and grits ‘n red-eye gravy with a mug of hot coffee. Pile them up and keep them coming, ‘cause I’m famished!”

“A slice of melon with a pirouette of dark chocolate swirled onto the plate, plus a croissant with a dab of blackberry preserves.”

“Tofu,” if you are vegan.

Like the Belushi food fight in Animal House, or, just maybe, like the caged chimpanzees at the cheap zoo, we fling our food and more at each other, emboldened by the anonymity of not really being anywhere close by as we spar and attack and dodge and dig in. As I’ve said before, the beaches are filled with lines drawn in the sand that wash away with the tide of opinion.

Most of the other types of binges come with hard and fast consequences –– as well as regret. This kind of binging is nefarious. None of us sees the widening gap or the hardening of resolve that separates us. Don’t get me wrong, we need resolve for many situations. But not the immutable stances that are really more like quicksand than not.

Binge. An unrestrained and often excessive indulgence.

When “Please” Doesn’t Cut It

Credit: fullyalivecoaching.wordpress.com

When “Please” Doesn’t Cut It
(A parenting/political dilemma)

By  L. Stewart Marsden

 

Polite, at first
Then, more insistent …
Please!
(Wanting the best from what seems the worst)
Angered, frustrated
Adding, “I said”
To ears that don’t hear;
To someone who’s hell-bent-for-leather
And whether or not they can even abate it —
The weight of their actions
So fearful and ponderous —
Its consequence thundering down and upon us?
The please, being so proper, so very polite
Is not quite enough.
Please doesn’t cut it; it’s too civil — not tough;
And when “please” doesn’t cut it
It’s time to draw lines.
And where lines have been drawn,
And when lines have been crossed,
Please just doesn’t cut it anymore.

Let the Pounding Begin

 

“Say it!” he said,
with his butt on my stomach,
his knees on my arms,
as he pounded my head
for intentional harm.
But I bit back the words
and held onto my tears,
trying my hardest to never show fear
or ever give in to the tyrant atop.
“Say Uncle!” he shouted.
But uncle, I’d not.

* * *

“Say it!” I said,
with my butt on his stomach,
my knees on his arms,
as I pounded his head
for intentional harm.
But he bit back the words
and held  onto his tears
trying his hardest to never show fear
or ever give in as I raged from atop.
“Say Uncle!” I shouted.
But uncle, he’d not.