Julián sees himself as a beacon of civilisation. He has a sticker on his car that says “Coexist” and on his social media profile he describes himself as “open to all realities”. But today, reality has decided to pay him a visit without warning.
It all started at brunch. Julián, in a fit of youthful nostalgia, ordered a coffee with whole milk, unaware that his thirties are unforgiving. Twenty minutes later, as he walked home, he felt the first tremor in his gut. He sighed and said to himself:
— My stomach used to handle dairy just fine, but it’s not so tolerant now.
When he got home, to take his mind off the discomfort, he put on Netflix. He chose a comedy special from 1995. Five minutes in, he was left gaping. The jokes about minorities and stereotypes were so crude that Julián felt a pang of unease. “Blimey,” he thought, “we used to laugh at this.” The comedian on the screen looked like a relic from a barbaric era. Julián reflected on how the audience has changed:
— The audience is definitely not so tolerant now with this kind of humour.
Here, the phrase “not so tolerant now” describes a shift in the times. Julián isn’t angry; he’s simply observing that the boundaries of what’s acceptable have narrowed.
But the real test was yet to come. As he looked out of the window, he saw a notice from the council: they were going to build a temporary shelter for the homeless right on the pavement opposite, taking up the space occupied by the fair-trade artisan café.
Julián felt his blood boil. “Here? Right outside my window? This will bring down the value of my property!” he thought. He stormed out onto the street to speak to the builders. Just then, his neighbour, Mrs Gable — an old-school conservative who’s always arguing with him about taxes — spotted him from her garden and flashed him a venomous smile:
— Oh, Julian! I thought you loved these causes. The ‘tolerant left’ is not so tolerant now, are we?
Mrs Gable used the phrase ‘not so tolerant now’ like a barbed dart. And this is, without a doubt, the most common usage in Anglo-Saxon culture to bear in mind, as in Canada: to highlight the hypocrisy of those who preach tolerance until it hits their pocket.
Julian, caught out by his own contradiction, tried to pull himself together. He didn’t want to be a NIMBY (Not In My Backyard), one of those people who want to save the world but far away from their own back garden. He realised that his image as a ‘good citizen’ was crumbling.
— He was all for the cause, but he’s not so tolerant now that it’s next door —murmured another neighbour passing by.
With his back against the wall, Julián decided to bring out the heavy artillery. He wasn’t going to admit that the shelter bothered him out of selfishness, but rather out of… principle! He put on his intellectual mask and shouted at Mrs Gable:
— Listen, Mrs Gable! If we tolerate everything, including the lack of planning and the chaos, then tolerance itself disappears! It’s the Paradox of Tolerance! We are not so tolerant now because we must protect the stability of our community!
Julián used the phrase ‘not so tolerant now’ as an intellectual shield. It was no longer a complaint, but a philosophical justification: ‘I am intolerant now in order to save tolerance later.’
Julián went back inside his house, his stomach still churning from the milk, his ego wounded by the neighbour and his mind confused by Karl Popper. He realised that “being tolerant” is a lovely phrase for a sticker, but in everyday life, saying that someone “is not so tolerant now” is the quickest way to remind them that, at the end of the day, we all have our limits… whether in our ideas, in the neighbourhood or in our digestive systems.
Come and participate; there's still time. You can find all the information daily in the #Freewritehouse Community. Specifically, today's prompt post:
Julián se considera a sí mismo un faro de civilización. En su coche lleva una pegatina que dice "Coexist" y en su perfil de redes sociales se define como "abierto a todas las realidades". Pero hoy, la realidad ha decidido visitarlo sin avisar.
Todo empezó en el brunch. Julián, en un alarde de nostalgia juvenil, pidió un café con leche de vaca entera, ignorando que sus treinta y tantos años no perdonan. A los veinte minutos, mientras caminaba hacia su casa, sintió el primer aviso sísmico en sus entrañas. Suspiró y se dijo a sí mismo:
— My stomach used to handle dairy just fine, but it’s not so tolerant now.
Al llegar a casa, para distraer el malestar, puso Netflix. Eligió un especial de comedia de 1995. A los cinco minutos, se quedó boquiabierto. Los chistes sobre minorías y estereotipos eran tan crudos que Julián sintió una punzada de incomodidad. "Vaya", pensó, "antes nos reíamos de esto". El comediante en la pantalla parecía un fósil de una era bárbara. Julián reflexionó sobre cómo el público ha cambiado:
— The audience is definitely not so tolerant now with this kind of humor.
Aquí la frase "not so tolerant now" describe un cambio de época. Julián no está enfadado, solo observa que los límites de lo aceptable se han estrechado.
Pero la verdadera prueba de fuego estaba por llegar. Al asomarse a la ventana, vio un cartel del ayuntamiento: iban a construir un refugio temporal para personas sin hogar justo en la acera de enfrente, ocupando el espacio de la cafetería artesanal de comercio justo.
Julián sintió que le hervía la sangre. "¿Aquí? ¿Frente a mi ventana? ¡Esto bajará el valor de mi propiedad!", pensó. Salió a la calle hecho una furia para hablar con los obreros. En ese momento, su vecina, la señora Gable —una conservadora de la vieja escuela que siempre discute con él sobre impuestos—, lo vio desde su jardín y le lanzó una sonrisa cargada de veneno:
— Oh, Julian! I thought you loved these causes. The "tolerant left" is not so tolerant now, are we?
La señora Gable usó la frase "not so tolerant now" como un dardo. Y este es, sin duda, el uso más común en la cultura anglosajona a tener en cuenta, como en Canadá: señalar la hipocresía de quien predica tolerancia hasta que le tocan el bolsillo.
Julián, atrapado en su propia contradicción, trató de recomponerse. No quería ser un NIMBY (Not In My Backyard), uno de esos que quieren salvar el mundo pero lejos de su jardín. Se dio cuenta de que su imagen de "buen ciudadano" se desmoronaba.
— He was all for the cause, but he’s not so tolerant now that it’s next door —murmuró otro vecino que pasaba por allí.
Acorralado, Julián decidió sacar la artillería pesada. No iba a admitir que le molestaba el refugio por egoísmo, sino por... ¡principios! Se puso su máscara de intelectual y le gritó a la señora Gable:
— Listen, Mrs. Gable! If we tolerate everything, including the lack of planning and the chaos, then tolerance itself disappears! It’s the Paradox of Tolerance! We are not so tolerant now because we must protect the stability of our community!
Julián usó la frase "not so tolerant now" como un escudo intelectual. Ya no es una queja, es una justificación filosófica: "Soy intolerante ahora para salvar la tolerancia después".
Julián volvió a entrar en su casa, con el estómago aún revuelto por la leche, el ego herido por la vecina y la mente confundida por Karl Popper. Se dio cuenta de que "ser tolerante" es una frase muy bonita para una pegatina, pero en la vida diaria, decir que alguien "is not so tolerant now" es la forma más rápida de recordarle que, al final de cada día, todos tenemos un límite... ya sea en las ideas, en el barrio o en el sistema digestivo.
Ven y participa; aún estás a tiempo. Toda la información la podrás encontrar cada día en la Comunidad #Freewritehouse. Específicamente, el día de hoy, aquí la publicación del prompt:
