Splash No. 192 - Cringe
Cringe
When talking with one of my friends, we started to theorize about the idea of “cringe,” which traditionally means “to recoil with disgust,” and colloquially is used as an adjective to describe things that would make you recoil with disgust. On the internet, it’s become common practice to refer to things that you dislike as cringe, but usually in reference to things that you find corny or gauche. We came up with theories — what really makes things cringe? Is there a set definition, or is cringe in the eye of the beholder? (It is.)
In my mind, calling something cringe is a way to assert one’s superiority over another by showing off some sort of advanced knowledge or awareness of some unwritten rule. A pretentious food connoisseur might cringe at the average Cheesecake Factory enjoyer, reveling in their superior knowledge of other culinary experiences. For this connoisseur, their identity as a foodie is important to them and includes their food knowledge; however, due to some level of insecurity or contempt for those outside of their group, they feel the need to label the Cheesecake Factory enjoyer as cringe. In many internet communities, this type of behavior is pretty common, though the groups usually aren’t so focused on places where you can get Fried Mac‘n’Cheese. Instead, people tend to apply the cringe label to any groups that oppose their own personal identities: leftists and alt-right groups see each other as cringe.
Yet, there exist other forms of cringe, which we’re used to seeing in comedic TV shows all the time. In contrast to the contemptuous cringe we see online, there’s also the compassionate cringe, in which we feel camaraderie with the subject of the cringe and feel closer to them through secondhand embarrassment. The difference is how much we can identify with the person’s actions, whether we can see ourselves in the same situation. So, perhaps compassionate cringe is a way to find common ground in ways you might not typically see — when the person you dislike starts to stutter when giving a presentation and suddenly seems so human.
I decided to have a tarot reading recently, where I asked about the future of my creative practice, and I received the Judgment Card reversed. Apparently, this meant that I needed to reflect on how far I’ve come with it, and to think about what I’ve accomplished, gently. I haven’t thought about this much, but I’ve started to wonder what it will be like to hit 200 newsletters in a few weeks. In all honesty, I’m afraid to look back at my earliest pieces and to inevitably cringe at my old work. Cringe often feels like a physical pain to me, leading me to avoid it all costs. Yet, as I ponder the meaning and function, maybe it’s a necessary discomfort to handle. I shall cringe because of the knowledge I have gained as a writer and the distance I see between my current self and my younger self. And rather than feel contempt for my younger self’s ignorance, I can feel connected to him, remembering that I once stood in his shoes.
Drops of the Week
PLAYLIST - s-tier ballads - my friend and I collected some of our favorite ballads
VIDEO - "Cringe" by Contrapoints - Natalie is a masterful video essayist and this video is where I got some of the ideas around the types of cringe!
POEM - "I'm One" by May Swenson - "Each day perfect, each day a thousand years. Time is in me."
With each day, we can move closer to a more equitable world. Reminders:
Donate to those who could benefit from mutual aid Mutual Aid Networks
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Embarrassingly,
Nikhil