Jiminy Cricket the Parole Officer

I’ve finally been sucked into the MoveOn cult. I knew it was only a matter of time – it was founded by my fellow Simon’s Rock alum Eli Pariser, so I’ve been aware of it for a while. Now that I’m a member I’m amazed at the bulldog-like grip they have on me. A day does not go by without an email from them, and the other day I even got a voicemail. It made me think that signing up with MoveOn is sort of like identifying that you aren’t really a strong or committed enough person to act on your own convictions but would like to do the “right” (ha!) thing, and are therefore requesting that somebody else be your aggressive external conscience.

You know they’re only telling you to do what you already believe is right, but wouldn’t probably do without harassment. You can’t escape their watchful eyes and incendiary emails. I feel them glaring at me when I accidentally throw paper in the garbage instead of the recycling. Peccavi! As it turns out, I have what has been reasonably termed an “overactive” conscience. So I’m getting a little jittery from the regular reminders of my morally feeble behavior. On the bright side, I’m thinking it will encourage me to go easier on myself, ‘cause there’s just no way I’m going to be able to do all these good things I feel I ought to. Perhaps externalizing my shrieking moral outrage and browbeating will train me to develop a less scrupulous attitude about my imperfect rectitude.