You Should Really Question Stuff

I hated that kid in middle school. He was the one kid that I wanted to just smack in a hit and run. It was as if he was on the lookout for ways to annoy me. If I were eating, he would say, “Xinlin sucks at using forks!” If I were speaking in a classroom, he would say, “Xinlin has a weird accent!” Admittingly, I did have a funny accent at the time—and much to my chagrin I still have a funny accent, after all these years—But that does not give him (or indeed anyone) the right to be fastidious about it. I wanted to show him who’s boss a couple of times when I got really pissed off, but he was a good-sized middle-schooler, and I wasn’t exactly bulky. So the taunting continued throughout middle school. I eventually got used to most of it, the notable exception being “nerdy pointdexter,” which I never managed to get used to.

Well, it was sort of true that I was a pointdexter, or in the words of Severus Snape, “an insufferable know-it-all.” I read rather copiously for the average teenager, and I was not exactly shy when it came to flaunting knowledge (really, now that I think about, it was more like trivia). Instead of being consternated at my insufferableness, I took every opportunity to explain to my classmates the origin of the Thirty-Years War, much to their annoyance. I also had a catchphrase whenever I began showing off: “Did you know—I read it in (Insert long, forbidding book title)—that…” As if to add credibility to whatever I was about to say. Honestly though, I could just have made up random facts, because no one was ever going to check their validity, but I still felt obliged to provide the most accurate and truthful answer (as if anyone cared for that). Back then, I really took pride in my little discourses, and I really didn’t like that kid interrupting my seminars all the time.

One day, I was repeating the stunt for the umpteenth time to a group of my friends: “Did you know—I read it in (Insert long, forbidding book title)—that…” When suddenly, HE burst into my speech, and bleated in an obnoxious voice, “Xinlin, why are you so gullible? You always believe what every book tells you?”

Naturally I was annoyed at this outburst, so I took swipe at his supposed inferior intellect, adding, “the people who write books are much smarter than you. You must be stupid to think that what they write could be wrong.”

Apparently he was flabbergasted for a second, but then he rallied and said, “Xinlin, do you never question stuff? You should really question stuff.” Then he ran off.

At the moment I didn’t think much of his advice (Indeed, looking back at it from now, he probably picked up the lines from some random hippie-leaning liberal TV channel or his probably hippie parents without knowing what he was talking about). After school, I went home picked up a book as usual. Then I saw a minor mistake in its content. I could not remember what it exactly was, but it was definitely an error. I was rather surprised. It never occurred to me that books actually could be, well, wrong. I concluded that I might be gullible, since I have always believed what the book said—on the basis that they sounded smart. Huh, I probably did not even understand the books, I thought, g-damnit, the kid hit the mark. Then a rather painful feeling followed, and I felt a ringing hollowness for the rest of the day.

I think that uncanny comment “You should really question stuff” wracked my persona as much as the Impact had on the Earth and the Moon. For one thing, I wasn’t really the quiz kid anymore. Instead of showing off, I started reading philosophy, and most importantly, I actually questioned stuff. You know, that wasn’t half bad, I thought. So I kept on reading philosophy, kept on questioning, and funny enough, there’s more to life than what other people say; what I say counted too! I still hated the kid, mind you, but funny how a random comment could unintentionally change one’s nemesis for the better?

Unfortunately sometimes the questioning takes to perverse forms, and now I am more of a cynic than your average human being. But hey, I think even a cynic is better than what I started out with, so it is all good.