Put dangerously simply; narrative politics is the business of shifting the Overton window for a cultural context through the cumulative effects of the decisions of billions. It is a battle for hearts and minds. It is a battle for compliance. It is a battle for the power of a mind numbingly nuanced and infinite series of points - individual decisions - that add up and blend like a pointalist painting into the standard expectations for behavior in any given society, and those who choose to break them.

Every decision matters. Every person matters. Every touch, of heart, mind, hand, or weapon, matters.

We are condemned, by our very internal complexity, to separation. There is nothing new to be said, by humans, due simply to the exhaustively infinite experiences of those who have come before us. But there are infinitely novel ways to say it. I have joined a long line if acolytes, trying to pass on a message from the dawn of humanity, and very possibly before that. Simply put, the words are not, and never will be, big enough. But they are all we have. So I choose, as many before and after me, to dedicate my life to translation. I often fail. I analyze, I learn. I try again. Because the reward for success is to be seen, glimpsed for a single glorious moment, as a soul. We are all separated from each other by the chasms of our own physical limits, the limitations of a lifetime, of a time and place, of a body. Narrative shaping is the decision to reach out anyway.

When two souls catch a glimpse of each other, perhaps separated by thousands of years, or miles, or experiences, a spark happens. That spark of recognition, of the other as the self, is the stuff of life.

Auden posited that all artists are, necessarily, journalists.

Narrative politics is the business of holding people accountable for what they message, regardless of and often in spite of, what they meant or said.

Everyone is having different conversations using the same words in the same order, simultaneously. Narrative politic is the art of parsing each conversation simultaneously. Narrative politic is the art of the triple or quadruple entendre. It is no accident that narrative politic is often utilized most effectively not by establishment forces, but by populist movements, by internet memers and satirists, by poets and artists and musicians.

To be dangerously simplistic, once again, we must internalize that, as Carson says, "all contact is crisis", and "every touch is a modified blow".

Or, another way, "truth hurts".

Or, another way, "life is pain, your highness. Anyone who says different is selling something."

Narrative politics does not ask for consent. Neither does being in this world at all.

To be alive, to commune with other human beings, to open your mouth in any metaphorical sense, is violence.

There is no moment, no word, no thought, uninfluenced by narrative. We are, in more ways than not, comprised less of blood and bones and more of the stories we tell ourselves and each other.

Or, as Oliver says, "I know you did not choose to be in this world, but you are here regardless. So why not get started immediately. I mean, belonging to it."

We are all, in every touch, in every word, in every instantaneous moment of our brief lives, taking in and putting out stories.

Narrative politic is the art of being actively self aware. Narrative politic is the science of noticing.