Having a filter placed over my mouth feels terrible! I’m not a gun that kills people stealthily!
Some recent events have left me feeling bewildered, mostly due to the pandemic. One category involves the chaos in grassroots epidemic prevention efforts. Many people who rarely go out have their only reason for leaving home being to gather for mass nucleic acid testing—and end up getting infected as a result. This issue has persisted since the outbreak began, yet mandatory city-wide testing has continued for a full three years. It’s not that no one has raised this concern, but it wasn’t until yesterday that Guangzhou announced that those with no need to go out no longer have to undergo testing.
Another issue is our freedom of speech on social media platforms. Recently, I stumbled upon some drama involving Bilibili content creator “Manufacturer Ao,” a gaming video uploader, and came across something particularly infuriating: comments in his section were automatically changed to “Good good good.” I also learned that for LexBurner, comments deemed less friendly were automatically altered to “Welcome home.” It feels like someone has fitted a silencer to our mouths—though perhaps that analogy isn’t quite right. A better comparison might be removing the trigger linkage from a gun or modifying it so that pulling the trigger shoots out candy instead. But even that feels off—we are free individuals, not guns perpetually aimed at others.
The pandemic shows no signs of improvement; if anything, it’s worsening. Meanwhile, nucleic acid testing companies are raking in massive profits. As a result, the comment section under our Foreign Ministry spokesperson’s Weibo posts was flooded with phrases like “Good good good,” “Mhm mhm,” and “Right right right” by the masses. The fact that comment filtering wasn’t enabled gave me a fleeting sense of freedom—kudos to Jian Ge!
This series of events reminded me of the story of the “Khwarazmian messengers” and the “clarinet” placed in a swimming pool to generate ultrasonic waves and heat cold water. Regarding the former, the problem persists: even if higher authorities don’t demand it, lower levels assume that’s what the higher-ups want. I don’t know how to solve this. As for the latter, the truth is that the clarinet serves no purpose other than to slice someone’s backside.
I’m not a fool, nor am I rude. When I see something wrong or unjust, I speak up for justice. It’s normal for people to hold different opinions—that’s part of the process of communication and exchanging viewpoints. Yet the reality is that certain harsh truths aren’t allowed to be spoken because they might upset someone, so criticism is suppressed. Praise is amplified, while dissent is hidden through selective comment moderation.
But why would I even want to voice such harsh opinions? In truth, I rarely do.
As far back as the Han Dynasty, Zhuge Liang advised in The Memorial to the Emperor Before Going to War:
“It is truly fitting to open wide the path of remonstrance, to glorify the virtuous legacy of the late emperor, and to inspire the morale of those with noble aspirations. One should not belittle oneself, distort analogies, or block the path of loyal counsel.”
I greatly admire my classmate Xingxing, who loves this world, has her own ideals, and strives to plant seeds of goodness with her modest efforts.
Yet I feel increasingly powerless. When sincere criticism is labeled as malicious incitement, I can only helplessly accept their “free criticism” of that sincerity. When genuine praise is dismissed as being “biased” or “little pink,” I can only resign myself to this “free critique.”
This society is beautiful, but my spiritual world and my material world have diverged.
I love my country and want to make our society better. I want the 24-character core socialist values to be not just deeply ingrained in people’s hearts but also reflected in every corner of life. But I am too insignificant to contribute anything meaningful. Arguing with others yields no positive outcomes and solves no fundamental problems. Adopting a non-committal stance toward certain issues seems like the best approach I can take.
Let me ride on the course of nature to my final rest, as happy with what comes from Heaven as with what I doubt not.