While looking up the name for fear of roller coasters (which, as it turns out, is called “roller coaster phobia”), I found a list of phobias that was astoundingly large and oh-so specific. It forced me to a startling conclusion: Humans are a bunch of chicken shits. Aliumphobia is a fear of garlic, which I assume may be listed for the many bloodsucking vampires among us. Bolshephobia is a fear of Bolsheviks, but I imagine this has become a bit passé since 1991. Dishabiliophobia, or fear of undressing in front of someone, is one I have already confronted after being barged in on in a bathroom stall that I swear was locked. But the one I found most striking was allodoxaphobia, and it presents an interesting philosophical idea. That is, unless you’re philosophobic as well.
I confess: I am an allodoxaphobic — I fear opinions. You may think, what’s to fear? But opinions are infectious, disorienting things that, if uninformed, are as deadly as disease. Whenever someone begins to utter his or her opinion about something, I sit in my chair and squirm in terror, hoping it won’t be one of those opinions. The kind that, especially during this election season, can turn friends into enemies, good ideas into bad ones, and a smile into a frown.
Take for instance, that great trilogy of movies known as The Lord of the Rings that came out a few years ago. In my mind they were immediate classics, as they were to any other Tolkien fan that waited in line for the midnight showings in near-freezing temperatures (this was before I learned of the magic that is Fandango). But to one critic, apparently The Lord of the Rings represented any other war movie, as he said, “A lot of it is just hacking and slashing on a mammoth scale, which is still just hacking and slashing.”
Who said hacking and slashing were unwanted? He spoiled my excitement about seeing the movie and convinced several of my friends that maybe waiting outside for four hours in December wasn’t such a good idea — which, though it may be true, was the ruinous effect of an opinion.
Finally, though, I made it to college where I don’t have to worry about people giving me any foolish, uninformed opinions, right? Wrong! My first mistake was to get a disgusting registration time. I ended up registering to take Asian American Women’s History because it was the last class available that combined three of my passions: random spontaneity, Asian food, and things that don’t start before 11 a.m. My next mistake was to call my parents to notify them of my successful registration. Upon hearing about my first choice as a responsible adult, they opined that I should take a literature course instead. But why should I bow down to their wants? Okay, maybe they are paying an exorbitant amount of money for me to come here, but I have a WildCARD now, so I am free.
But I was sure that my new classmates would definitely not be so quick to judge. When I said that I did not know who I was going to vote for, which I didn’t realize was such a crime on this campus, one fellow freshman asked, “Can I tell you who you’re going to vote for?” By now, my allodoxaphobia was alive and strong in my heart, so you can imagine my terror as I formed my response, “No.” You see, that is, after all, the point of an election. Every man and woman deciding for him or herself who they think will lead the country best.
I don’t care if my parents disown me if I don’t choose McCain, I don’t care if people call me a racist because I don’t choose Obama, the fact that everyone wants to shove their nonsensical opinions in my face makes the whole process so much less satisfying. Honestly, your uninformed opinion is much better kept to yourself, because it makes me that much less likely to agree with you. Ducking and dodging opinions like these eventually becomes a chore.
What I want to say is while I respect your right to free expression, I won’t allow you to take over my right to a little quiet time so that I can decide what I think. Excuse my dictatorial tendencies, but do not allow your opinions to ever rob me of the joy of a classic movie, an easy A in a useless class or the opportunity to decide my beliefs for myself.
If you are going to continue spouting your oh-so-brilliant thoughts, please be informed. If there is one thing I hate more than opinions, it’s idiocy. Try to be smart about which opinions might cause more harm than good. Until you do, well, I suppose I’ll just keep squirming.