Let’s take a step back.
In one’s daily travails one is almost as likely to chance upon the moral grandstanding of acquaintances in public as they are on social media with strangers. It doesn’t make the in-person encounter any less distasteful though.
“You don’t care, maan!”“Well, Dave, of the fifty or so people in this room, we’re probably the only two currently aware of the Deuxième Guerre du Congo. So there’s fifty other opportunities here for you to score more ego validation points than wasting my time with cheap grace.”
Much like the Manatoid Issue, mock concern over third world conflicts is just a cheap rhetorical device, not meant to persuade with saccharine or vinegar, but to shame someone by pulling aspersions out of thin air. “Dave” isn’t one-upping himself over you — he’s one-downing you under him.
Actually, this is more insufferable than online slacktivists, whom you can merely ignore. In meatspace, you can put a face onto the performative bluster of boutique delusions and confected outrage and respond with the qualitative distinction of public ridicule. Let them burn the calories while everyone else points and laughs.
It’s like that fellow running around Town Square with bunny ears and a clipboard accosting people about Giving to The Cause:
Dude, if you don’t take yourself seriously, why should we?
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