t h e g r a b b l e . c o m

There we were, the 3 of us, standing in the middle of the church’s outdoor badminton court. I was about 15 years old. My friends J and D, both my age, were talking. A minute later they were disagreeing. I can’t remember what the issue was, but I bet it was something important and close to heart. Both of them were sure the other was wrong. Both were keen on proving it. Accusations flew; arguments were attempted only to be destroyed seconds later. Neither side conceded anything.

In their desperation they turned to me. The whites of their eyeballs betrayed a sharkish intensity. Yet in that moment, I also detected a puppy-dog yearning for affirmation. My friends J and D sought my support.

I said, “I disagree with you about this, J.”

D leaped triumphantly and proceeded to jeer at the now dumbfounded J.

Cutting D’s victory parade short, I snapped: “That doesn’t mean you’re right. I think you’re wrong too, D.”

Doubly stupefied, both D and J could not believe what had just occurred. How could they both be wrong? Doesn’t condemning the first worldview automatically result in the approval of the second worldview? If you’re an enemy to my enemy, aren’t you my friend? The answer, of course, is: Not always.

What happened next? D and J temporarily abandoned their disagreement. United in the presence of a common foe, they laughed at and mocked my brazen declaration. They were mistaken, though, I wasn’t trying to be disrespectful. I was trying to be truthful.

“Never compromise. Not even in the face of Armageddon.”
- Rorschach, in Watchmen