However, to make change in this world, in my opinion, we must make a variety of changes in attitude.
1. Stop being so insular-minded. In other words, it is a natural tendency for us to "circle the wagons" and withdraw within ourselves. I have been guilty of this, too.
To make any actual change or progress against the great societal injustices we see in the world, we will have to work from INSIDE the system, not OUTSIDE the system.
2. Protests are wonderful ways to coalesce support within ourselves, but they do not change things on a larger scale.
3. Money and power have no allegiance to PARTY, NATIONAL BOUNDARIES, and POLTICAL IDEOLOGY.
In examining the 2004 Presidental election, I am further reminded about how democracy is merely a vehicle for capitalism.
Both Bush and Kerry were capitalist hacks...manipulated by the system, to give the appearance that a democratic system actually is in place.
The truth of the matter is that democracy is a sham. The U.S.A. is, at best, a plutocracy. There's a reason why the electoral college is in place, and why it won't ever go away.
The powerful elite don't want direct elections. Think about it.
4. What we need to do to make changes is not to attempt to sabotage the system.
If we burned down the corporate headquarters of every American corporation, it wouldn't matter. They would just relocate in Indonesia or China or somewhere else, where it's probably cheaper to exist anyway.
5. Instead of pissing in the wind (or tilting at windmills), as we like to do...all of us who REALLY care about changing the world need to do one of the following:
---Become very wealthy. After you've become very wealthy, you have bargaining power. Until you have wealth or influence, you might as well not even exist to the people at the top
---Become famous. Being famous means exposure. In this society, for better or for worse, once you're a household name, you have a means to affect the whims and desires of the average person. Think about how many people look up to their favorite sports player or actor/actress. Sad, but true.
Being famous also means that the powerful elite will be more inclined to listen to what you have to say.
---Learn the fine art of "playing dumb"
Learn to talk out of both sides of your mouth, if you haven't learned this useful trait already. Keep your true agenda hidden. Placate people by "going through the motions". Most people aren't smart enough to realize the difference between true intentions and face value.
6. Understand that true leaders are rare, and that most people are followers.
Most people are quite content to be sheep.
7. Most people who crave leadership roles are in it for all the wrong reasons.
Their real motivations are for their own self-gain and not for the betterment of other people, regardless of what they might say to the contrary.
Having said all of this...I want your responses.
I believe we can change the world, but doing so requires a complete paradigm shift. It will not be easy...it will require a lot of effort. But the rewards will be quite thrilling indeed.
Monday, January 08, 2007
Sunday, January 07, 2007
The Tories of the South: Alabama Unionists
The Tories of The South: Alabama Unionists
Until recently, history has not acknowledged the existence of a great number of native Alabamians who remained loyal to the Union during the course of the Civil War. Ex-confederates kept all mention of any division within the C.S.A. out of history books and shamed those to silence that dared to speak otherwise. Southerners often think as one organism, and certainly in this respect many natives did not look kindly on their brethren who dared to deviate from the established majority.
Five Alabama counties were hotbeds of Unionist sympathy: Marion, Winston, Walker, Fayette, and Randolph. However, Union sympathizers were found to a lesser degree in eight other counties of the Northern third of the state. Only one regiment of Federal troops was culled from Alabama natives--the first Alabama Calvary.
These counties were peopled primarily by the poorest of the poor, with the lowest per capita income of any other counties in the state. These impoverished yeomen farmers tended their crops in rocky, mountainous, harsh conditions which did not support much crop growth. Soil conditions were barely adequate to grow much of anything and as such, the meager wages produced could barely support one's own family. The upkeep of slaves was not an inexpensive endeavor, so it is hardly surprising that few, if any residents of these counties owned even one.
So strong was Union sentiment in North Alabama and East Tennessee that it was proposed that North Alabama join with Unionist East Tennessee to form the loyal state of Nickajack. Throughout the south, residents of mountainous areas, by in large stayed loyal to the Union. The most notable example lies with the western counties of Virginia, whose distaste for secession was so strong that they broke from Virginia altogether, and in 1863, joined the Union as the independent state of West Virginia.
Sectionalism, however, proved the undoing of this proposal. The loyalty of Alabama Unionists, other than a de facto devotion to the United States, lay to their own individual county and families.
Furthermore, being ardently against secessionism, they did not want to further subdivide a region that, in their view, had no right to break away from the Federal Government in the first place.
The economic conditions of Winston County, Alabama, were typical of most southern unionists. In 1860, Winston County was the poorest county in Alabama. The per capita value of property was $168 and the county and the country ranked last in cotton production and slaveholding, with only 2 percent of the population owning slaves.
Their resentment of the wealthy planter aristocracy of the Black Belt ran deep. They had long been perceived by the planter aristocracy of the state as mere country bumpkins: backwards, ill-educated, and uncouth. Residents of these mountainous counties in north and northwest Alabama had long been suspicious of outside interference and generally kept to themselves. They did not stray outside the borders of their county, intermarried within their ranks, and shunned outsiders with a proud contempt.
As for their political allegiance, most were proud Jacksonian democrats. Their fathers and grandfathers had fought with Old Hickory against the Creeks and Cherokees and held fast to his belief that the union must be preserved at all costs. As the Civil War arrived, and war seemed inevitable, many Alabama Unionists spoke about how Andrew Jackson would have dealt with secession by hanging the ringleaders and crushing the rebellion before it had even gotten started.
Some thirty years prior, Jackson himself had warned South Carolina about the foolishness of dissolving ties with a Union that had been won at great cost from Great Britain.
Indeed, Jackson warned South Carolina on Dec. 10, 1832 that he was prepared to do just that.
“Are you really ready to incur its guilt? If you are, on the heads of the instigators of the act be the dreadful consequences; on their heads be the dishonor, but on yours may fall the punishment. On your unhappy State will inevitably fall the evils of the conflict you force upon the Government of your country. It can not accede to the mad project of disunion, of which you would be the first victims.”
Enlisting for the north was a dangerous risk, so sign up (muster) rolls could be found only at clandestine meeting places. As such, times and places to meet were spread almost exclusively by word of mouth. The penalties for “turning traitor” were harsh. Numerous accounts exist of Confederate home guards robbing the homes of Southern Unionists, with murder or political assassination a constant threat. Yet, instead of thwarting the desire to aid the North, such attacks often strengthened the desire to fight against the rebelling South.
It is of note to mention that Union general William T. Sherman used members of the First Alabama Calvary as his trusted scouts while on his infamous raid through the southeast that eventually ended on Christmas Day in Savannah, Georgia. These native southerners, familiar with their home terrain, were invaluable to Sherman and greatly impeded the speed at which he progressed. Ex-Confederates would not soon forget the raping and pillaging that progressed at the hands of Sherman’s men, nor would they forget the role that their native southerners played in wreaking such havoc. After the war, the defeated confederates took out their aggressions upon those who they perceived as "Tories" and "traitors".
Eight months after Appomattox, in testimony before the U.S. Congress, Brevet Brigadier General George E. Spencer, who commanded the 1st Alabama Calvary, estimated that ten percent of the state remained very firmly loyal behind the Federal Union. Spencer, a former resident of Iowa, was asked his opinion of Alabama public sentiment since Lee’s surrender.
He replied, in part, “I find the sentiment of most of the people hostile to the government of the United States…General Sherman’s escort was from my regiment. The lieutenant commanding that escort (returned home)…but was allowed to remain only six hours there. He was mobbed in the streets and was charged with being responsible for everything that Sherman’s army did. His friends and relations made him leave to save his life.”
During the war, but particularly after it had concluded, these counties supported the Republican Party. Seeing first hand the cruelty perpetrated on them by their rebel neighbors, almost all of whom were staunchly Democratic, they concluded that the party of Jackson did not represent them anymore. Their apex of power rested in a brief, eight year period from 1866-1874, which coincided neatly with the Union occupation of Alabama.
Southern Unionists were decried by most members of their state as scalawags, particularly because of their willingness to comply wholeheartedly with the Reconstruction government. Alabama Tories were among the firmest supporters of a series of Washington appointed Republican governors. They provided food and shelter to Union troops who were stationed in their counties, but they refused to directly participate in the Freedman’s Bureau or to involve themselves in the affairs of any other region, save their own. They aided the occupying forces for the year 1867-1868, by providing a base of authority for occupying troops. These two years, unsurprisingly, were the height of Unionist power, as the military ruled the state without a designated figurehead.
Reconstruction officially ended in 1877, when newly elected President Rutherford B. Hayes fulfilled a campaign promise and pulled the last remaining occupying forces from the states of Florida, Louisiana, and South Carolina. However, Alabama had been reclaimed by the Democratic Party, long before, having wrested political control four years prior. The north lost interest in maintaining an unpopular army and was eager to flee the south and leave its people to their own devices.
The five loyalist counties had never wielded much political power before the Civil War, and after the temporary setback of Reconstruction, a vengeful, Democratic legislature stripped the region of all its political clout. After 1874, these counties had even less influence on Montgomery politics than before the war.
General Spencer, in his testimony before Congress soon after the war, had noted the chaos which occurred immediately after Emancipation. When asked his opinion of what would occur to “colored people” if U.S. troops were removed and the Freedman’s Bureau suspended, he replied that “(Negroes) would be in worse slavery than ever. I consider that the colored people there to-day are worse off than when they had masters. The masters had an interest in them to the extent of so many dollars, and would protect them. Now the general disposition is to mistreat them in every possible manner. The laws of the legislature, which they passed, show that. The arming of the militia is only for the purpose of intimidating the Union men, and enforcing upon the Negroes a species of slavery; making them work for a nominal price for whomever they choose, not allowing the Negroes to have any choice, any way.”
Although Southern Unionists would concede that “negroes” needed civil and legal rights equal to whites, they did not believe freed men should be granted the right of the ballot. Racism still ran rampant between Unionists and ex-Confederates alike and both regarded African-Americans as “socially and intellectually inferior.” Unionists would be less inclined to perpetrate acts of violence against Freedmen, but they certainly were not ready to see them as equals.
Unfortunately, the contributions of loyalists were soon all but forgotten by their northern allies. Despite the fact that 2.578 white Alabamians had joined the Union army during the Civil War, support for continued occupation of the south weakened and as it did, Republicans lost all political authority. Internal dissention proved the undoing of the few years in which Unionists controlled Alabama politics, but in particular, the already bankrupt state found itself $25 million dollars in debt to railroad trusts. It had been the dream of many Unionists to create a massive railway system that would connect the state’s major cities, but state coffers were utterly unable to afford such a massive undertaking. This issue, above all others, secured a massive Democratic victory in 1874 that re-secured power in the hands of former secessionists.
These former secessionists called themselves “Bourbons”, taking their name from a family of French monarchs who had prided themselves on their lavish spending. Though momentarily stunned by the defeat of the Confederacy, they nonetheless grew in strength and made several distinct gains in each election. These gains were due in a large part in their ability to disenfranchise more and more of the African-American vote.
Having failed to cash in on the benefits of Federal occupation during Reconstruction, the fate of “Free Staters” and Southern Unionists alike was secured as soon as the sound of marching Federal troops faded. As a result, the Bourbons steadily consolidated their gains into the myth of the “Solid South”.
Winstonians and other “Tories” were initially persecuted for supporting the Union during the Civil War, later they were persecuted for opposition to the party of secession, and a Democratic legislature all but wrote them out of existence when they secured power. As a result, many Southern Unionists fled Alabama and the south after Reconstruction, settling down primarily in the upper Midwest. Similarly, after the Revolutionary War, British Loyalists fled the United States and settled in Canada for many of the same reasons.
Still, many remained, and these pro-Union counties became even more isolationist and insular as a result. They continued to put together enough signatures to put Republican candidates on the ballot for decades, but found their candidates soundly defeated by their Democratic adversaries in nearly every election. The resentment between Unionists and Confederates lingered for years and traces of it remain to the present day.
For example, Winston county residents still, by in large, maintain a healthy contempt and suspicion of outsiders and make efforts to defy the status quo of their state. Residents from outside the county think of its denizens as strange, unfriendly, and radical. Playing up to its stereotype, the county supported a fair number of far-leftists and communists during the turbulent 1930s, when much of the state was firmly behind FDR’s more pragmatic liberalism.
Federal Judge Frank Johnson, himself a Winston county product, rose from poverty to become a notable U.S. Circuit Judge. He supported the Republican Party and its candidate for President, Thomas Dewey, as a delegate to the 1948 convention. Most of the state supported pro-segregation Democrat Strom Thurmond and his “Dixiecrat” party. Johnson later proved to be the fly in the ointment of Governor George C. Wallace and his platform of segregation. Johnson’s ceaseless rulings for integration and in support of notable figures like Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. won him nationwide acclaim, but few friends in his home state.
Johnson, using the power delegated to him by the Federal Government, forced a swift procession of integration, a move that most Alabamians resented. He, then, was a true Southern Unionist, loyal to the Federal Government above all, and distrustful of the issue of individual states’ rights; such ideas had been re-introduced by a variety of segregationist governors, including Wallace, during the 1950’s and 1960’s.
Yet, like his Tory ancestors, he was not an absolute liberal. During the 1960s, Johnson maintained that Northern liberal whites in the Civil Rights Movement were ``sorely misguided.'' He personally opposed interracial marriages. Only by 1984 did he believe that blacks should compete equally with whites in education.
In summary, Alabama Unionists played a major role in the politics and policies of their state and their nations, despite their minority status. Their political stance might be describes not so much liberal as libertarian. Their descendents continue to stand counter to the established viewpoints of the majority of Alabamians. Fiercely loyal to the Union, they, unlike neo-Confederates, see themselves as the true sons and daughters of the American Revolution. By in large, they are an opinionated, sometimes secretive, but often highly moral people who would prefer to be left alone, but will often fight to the death for their right to be left in peace.
Until recently, history has not acknowledged the existence of a great number of native Alabamians who remained loyal to the Union during the course of the Civil War. Ex-confederates kept all mention of any division within the C.S.A. out of history books and shamed those to silence that dared to speak otherwise. Southerners often think as one organism, and certainly in this respect many natives did not look kindly on their brethren who dared to deviate from the established majority.
Five Alabama counties were hotbeds of Unionist sympathy: Marion, Winston, Walker, Fayette, and Randolph. However, Union sympathizers were found to a lesser degree in eight other counties of the Northern third of the state. Only one regiment of Federal troops was culled from Alabama natives--the first Alabama Calvary.
These counties were peopled primarily by the poorest of the poor, with the lowest per capita income of any other counties in the state. These impoverished yeomen farmers tended their crops in rocky, mountainous, harsh conditions which did not support much crop growth. Soil conditions were barely adequate to grow much of anything and as such, the meager wages produced could barely support one's own family. The upkeep of slaves was not an inexpensive endeavor, so it is hardly surprising that few, if any residents of these counties owned even one.
So strong was Union sentiment in North Alabama and East Tennessee that it was proposed that North Alabama join with Unionist East Tennessee to form the loyal state of Nickajack. Throughout the south, residents of mountainous areas, by in large stayed loyal to the Union. The most notable example lies with the western counties of Virginia, whose distaste for secession was so strong that they broke from Virginia altogether, and in 1863, joined the Union as the independent state of West Virginia.
Sectionalism, however, proved the undoing of this proposal. The loyalty of Alabama Unionists, other than a de facto devotion to the United States, lay to their own individual county and families.
Furthermore, being ardently against secessionism, they did not want to further subdivide a region that, in their view, had no right to break away from the Federal Government in the first place.
The economic conditions of Winston County, Alabama, were typical of most southern unionists. In 1860, Winston County was the poorest county in Alabama. The per capita value of property was $168 and the county and the country ranked last in cotton production and slaveholding, with only 2 percent of the population owning slaves.
Their resentment of the wealthy planter aristocracy of the Black Belt ran deep. They had long been perceived by the planter aristocracy of the state as mere country bumpkins: backwards, ill-educated, and uncouth. Residents of these mountainous counties in north and northwest Alabama had long been suspicious of outside interference and generally kept to themselves. They did not stray outside the borders of their county, intermarried within their ranks, and shunned outsiders with a proud contempt.
As for their political allegiance, most were proud Jacksonian democrats. Their fathers and grandfathers had fought with Old Hickory against the Creeks and Cherokees and held fast to his belief that the union must be preserved at all costs. As the Civil War arrived, and war seemed inevitable, many Alabama Unionists spoke about how Andrew Jackson would have dealt with secession by hanging the ringleaders and crushing the rebellion before it had even gotten started.
Some thirty years prior, Jackson himself had warned South Carolina about the foolishness of dissolving ties with a Union that had been won at great cost from Great Britain.
Indeed, Jackson warned South Carolina on Dec. 10, 1832 that he was prepared to do just that.
“Are you really ready to incur its guilt? If you are, on the heads of the instigators of the act be the dreadful consequences; on their heads be the dishonor, but on yours may fall the punishment. On your unhappy State will inevitably fall the evils of the conflict you force upon the Government of your country. It can not accede to the mad project of disunion, of which you would be the first victims.”
Enlisting for the north was a dangerous risk, so sign up (muster) rolls could be found only at clandestine meeting places. As such, times and places to meet were spread almost exclusively by word of mouth. The penalties for “turning traitor” were harsh. Numerous accounts exist of Confederate home guards robbing the homes of Southern Unionists, with murder or political assassination a constant threat. Yet, instead of thwarting the desire to aid the North, such attacks often strengthened the desire to fight against the rebelling South.
It is of note to mention that Union general William T. Sherman used members of the First Alabama Calvary as his trusted scouts while on his infamous raid through the southeast that eventually ended on Christmas Day in Savannah, Georgia. These native southerners, familiar with their home terrain, were invaluable to Sherman and greatly impeded the speed at which he progressed. Ex-Confederates would not soon forget the raping and pillaging that progressed at the hands of Sherman’s men, nor would they forget the role that their native southerners played in wreaking such havoc. After the war, the defeated confederates took out their aggressions upon those who they perceived as "Tories" and "traitors".
Eight months after Appomattox, in testimony before the U.S. Congress, Brevet Brigadier General George E. Spencer, who commanded the 1st Alabama Calvary, estimated that ten percent of the state remained very firmly loyal behind the Federal Union. Spencer, a former resident of Iowa, was asked his opinion of Alabama public sentiment since Lee’s surrender.
He replied, in part, “I find the sentiment of most of the people hostile to the government of the United States…General Sherman’s escort was from my regiment. The lieutenant commanding that escort (returned home)…but was allowed to remain only six hours there. He was mobbed in the streets and was charged with being responsible for everything that Sherman’s army did. His friends and relations made him leave to save his life.”
During the war, but particularly after it had concluded, these counties supported the Republican Party. Seeing first hand the cruelty perpetrated on them by their rebel neighbors, almost all of whom were staunchly Democratic, they concluded that the party of Jackson did not represent them anymore. Their apex of power rested in a brief, eight year period from 1866-1874, which coincided neatly with the Union occupation of Alabama.
Southern Unionists were decried by most members of their state as scalawags, particularly because of their willingness to comply wholeheartedly with the Reconstruction government. Alabama Tories were among the firmest supporters of a series of Washington appointed Republican governors. They provided food and shelter to Union troops who were stationed in their counties, but they refused to directly participate in the Freedman’s Bureau or to involve themselves in the affairs of any other region, save their own. They aided the occupying forces for the year 1867-1868, by providing a base of authority for occupying troops. These two years, unsurprisingly, were the height of Unionist power, as the military ruled the state without a designated figurehead.
Reconstruction officially ended in 1877, when newly elected President Rutherford B. Hayes fulfilled a campaign promise and pulled the last remaining occupying forces from the states of Florida, Louisiana, and South Carolina. However, Alabama had been reclaimed by the Democratic Party, long before, having wrested political control four years prior. The north lost interest in maintaining an unpopular army and was eager to flee the south and leave its people to their own devices.
The five loyalist counties had never wielded much political power before the Civil War, and after the temporary setback of Reconstruction, a vengeful, Democratic legislature stripped the region of all its political clout. After 1874, these counties had even less influence on Montgomery politics than before the war.
General Spencer, in his testimony before Congress soon after the war, had noted the chaos which occurred immediately after Emancipation. When asked his opinion of what would occur to “colored people” if U.S. troops were removed and the Freedman’s Bureau suspended, he replied that “(Negroes) would be in worse slavery than ever. I consider that the colored people there to-day are worse off than when they had masters. The masters had an interest in them to the extent of so many dollars, and would protect them. Now the general disposition is to mistreat them in every possible manner. The laws of the legislature, which they passed, show that. The arming of the militia is only for the purpose of intimidating the Union men, and enforcing upon the Negroes a species of slavery; making them work for a nominal price for whomever they choose, not allowing the Negroes to have any choice, any way.”
Although Southern Unionists would concede that “negroes” needed civil and legal rights equal to whites, they did not believe freed men should be granted the right of the ballot. Racism still ran rampant between Unionists and ex-Confederates alike and both regarded African-Americans as “socially and intellectually inferior.” Unionists would be less inclined to perpetrate acts of violence against Freedmen, but they certainly were not ready to see them as equals.
Unfortunately, the contributions of loyalists were soon all but forgotten by their northern allies. Despite the fact that 2.578 white Alabamians had joined the Union army during the Civil War, support for continued occupation of the south weakened and as it did, Republicans lost all political authority. Internal dissention proved the undoing of the few years in which Unionists controlled Alabama politics, but in particular, the already bankrupt state found itself $25 million dollars in debt to railroad trusts. It had been the dream of many Unionists to create a massive railway system that would connect the state’s major cities, but state coffers were utterly unable to afford such a massive undertaking. This issue, above all others, secured a massive Democratic victory in 1874 that re-secured power in the hands of former secessionists.
These former secessionists called themselves “Bourbons”, taking their name from a family of French monarchs who had prided themselves on their lavish spending. Though momentarily stunned by the defeat of the Confederacy, they nonetheless grew in strength and made several distinct gains in each election. These gains were due in a large part in their ability to disenfranchise more and more of the African-American vote.
Having failed to cash in on the benefits of Federal occupation during Reconstruction, the fate of “Free Staters” and Southern Unionists alike was secured as soon as the sound of marching Federal troops faded. As a result, the Bourbons steadily consolidated their gains into the myth of the “Solid South”.
Winstonians and other “Tories” were initially persecuted for supporting the Union during the Civil War, later they were persecuted for opposition to the party of secession, and a Democratic legislature all but wrote them out of existence when they secured power. As a result, many Southern Unionists fled Alabama and the south after Reconstruction, settling down primarily in the upper Midwest. Similarly, after the Revolutionary War, British Loyalists fled the United States and settled in Canada for many of the same reasons.
Still, many remained, and these pro-Union counties became even more isolationist and insular as a result. They continued to put together enough signatures to put Republican candidates on the ballot for decades, but found their candidates soundly defeated by their Democratic adversaries in nearly every election. The resentment between Unionists and Confederates lingered for years and traces of it remain to the present day.
For example, Winston county residents still, by in large, maintain a healthy contempt and suspicion of outsiders and make efforts to defy the status quo of their state. Residents from outside the county think of its denizens as strange, unfriendly, and radical. Playing up to its stereotype, the county supported a fair number of far-leftists and communists during the turbulent 1930s, when much of the state was firmly behind FDR’s more pragmatic liberalism.
Federal Judge Frank Johnson, himself a Winston county product, rose from poverty to become a notable U.S. Circuit Judge. He supported the Republican Party and its candidate for President, Thomas Dewey, as a delegate to the 1948 convention. Most of the state supported pro-segregation Democrat Strom Thurmond and his “Dixiecrat” party. Johnson later proved to be the fly in the ointment of Governor George C. Wallace and his platform of segregation. Johnson’s ceaseless rulings for integration and in support of notable figures like Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. won him nationwide acclaim, but few friends in his home state.
Johnson, using the power delegated to him by the Federal Government, forced a swift procession of integration, a move that most Alabamians resented. He, then, was a true Southern Unionist, loyal to the Federal Government above all, and distrustful of the issue of individual states’ rights; such ideas had been re-introduced by a variety of segregationist governors, including Wallace, during the 1950’s and 1960’s.
Yet, like his Tory ancestors, he was not an absolute liberal. During the 1960s, Johnson maintained that Northern liberal whites in the Civil Rights Movement were ``sorely misguided.'' He personally opposed interracial marriages. Only by 1984 did he believe that blacks should compete equally with whites in education.
In summary, Alabama Unionists played a major role in the politics and policies of their state and their nations, despite their minority status. Their political stance might be describes not so much liberal as libertarian. Their descendents continue to stand counter to the established viewpoints of the majority of Alabamians. Fiercely loyal to the Union, they, unlike neo-Confederates, see themselves as the true sons and daughters of the American Revolution. By in large, they are an opinionated, sometimes secretive, but often highly moral people who would prefer to be left alone, but will often fight to the death for their right to be left in peace.
The Denial of the South
GLBTQs are invisible entities in the south. Here's why.
Kevin Camp
Kevin Camp
The Denial of the South
The South was not founded to create slavery; slavery was recruited to perpetuate the South. Honor came first. The determination of men to have power, prestige, and self-esteem and to immortalize these acquisitions through their progeny was the key to the South’s development… [I]n the South today devotion to family and country, restrictive views of women’s place and role, attitudes about racial hierarchy, and the subordination of all community values remain in the popular mind to an extent not altogether duplicated in the rest of the land.[i].
W.J. Cash, in his influential 1941 work, The Mind of the South, advanced the idea that the southern mentality is defined by its natives’ supreme conformity to their own invented status quo. Inhabitants unable to homogenize efficiently into southern culture find themselves often ostracized and shunned by the larger community. “Southern polite society has not yet faced the fact that gays, lesbians, bisexuals, and transgenders exist in its midst”.[ii] As Cash might argue, The War of Secession destroyed the framework of the Old South, yet its culture is preserved within Southern families—both African-American and Caucasian. Any challenge to the integrity of the family unit undermines its still shaky foundations; Homosexuality is no exception.[iii]
Sears states the immense impact that southern queers have made upon their native soil, but notes with sadness how their contributions were often relegated to the shadows. Playwrights such as Tennessee Williams, botanists like George Washington Carver, jazz singers like Bessie Smith, and novelists like Rita Mae Brown can be appreciated so long as their sexual orientation is not mentioned. “The interior contradictions of honor [hold people] in shackles of prejudice, pride and superficiality.”[iv] Skillful deniers of reality, Southerners are concerned at all costs with keeping up appearances. Thus, eccentricity is often tolerated, if only as a means not to confront private idiosyncrasies directly.[v] “This storehouse of collective private knowledge, in part, is what identifies a Southern community”.[vi] So long as “dirty little secrets” remain so, the fabric of Southern communities holds together. An expectation of flamboyance and politeness enables the South paradoxically to honor Tallulah Bankhead and Tennessee Williams, while at the same time censuring school libraries that contain homosexual material and passing legislation that denies same-sex couples the right of marriage.
Sears takes pains to separate African-American family life from its Caucasian counterpart, but the reality remains that, aside from a few trifling variations, both are rooted deeply in the same traditions. African-American society, after all, based itself upon the template of Caucasian society.
“In most cases, the social differentiation of the [African-American] community is not built upon occupational differentiation of the population, but represents the efforts of those who have achieved some culture and education to enforce standards and recognize distinction…In a Southern city, for example, the small elite will be composed of a few school teachers, a couple of physicians, a dentist, postal employees, and one or two other families who have acquired a superior status because of family property, or sometimes because of some unique position in the white community.”[vii]
Notwithstanding, the Protestant Church is a powerful influence in the everyday life of each Southerner, regardless of skin color. As Sears himself argues, “this is a culture in which the antebellum, patriarchal ethos is rooted in Southern honor, Christian faith, and an extended family.”[viii] “Americans [and Southerners] have a long history of seeing themselves as God’s chosen people. While tolerating a diversity of religious beliefs ranging from Judaism to Mormonism, Americans, in general, remain no less committed to belief in God, the specialness (sic) of their New Zion, and the righteous certainty of their earthly role to evangelize the world for God and Democracy”.[ix] This self-righteous attitude often excludes GLBT persons, as they are often perceived as antithetical to Christian morality, family cohesion, and general decency.
Furthermore, a tumultuous past and a tradition of shared misfortune unify Southerners together above all else. “Enduring great economic misfortunes and rooted in the chivalric ideals of their antebellum past, Southerners have placed more importance on family and family honor than on outward manifestations of wealth.”[x] Many Americans are aware of the large socio-economic gap that exists between North and South. As Sears argues, what often are not discussed are the differences within the South itself. Vast disparities of wealth and influence exist between rich and poor Southerners and among various Southern subcultures.[xi] The South has a long history of electing populist politicians and much scholarly research has been undertaken to prove that working class Southerners are much more liberal on economic issues than is generally assumed. Unfortunately, on issues of gender norms and stereotypes, the South remains unwaveringly conservative.
Unlike the North, where a discrepancy between public sexual image and private sexual behavior is viewed as an act of hypocrisy, clandestine homosexual behavior escapes public retribution and regulation so long as such acts do not violate the code of family honor.[xii] Sears recognizes this as a freedom peculiar to the South. Northern society adopts a more live-and-let live attitude towards its queer residents and at least acknowledges their presence; many Northerners, in particular, place higher priority upon individual expression, rather than mass conventionality.
The phenomenon of repressed distinctiveness, particularly within the context of sexual expression, cuts across the racial divide but has increasingly come to light in the African-American community. The concept of “the down low” has come to define a subcategory of African-American men who have sexual contact with other men, but do not consider themselves queer.
Sears interviews a working class African-American male, who puts the picture neatly into focus.
“First, the South is conservative. When you’re black in a black society and you’re gay it’s even harder. Blacks don’t want it to be known because they don’t want to mimic or imitate white people. They see it as a crutch and they don’t want to have to deal with it. That’s what they have been taught. They would do all sorts of things to deny that someone in their family is gay.”[xiii]
Southerners produce numerous rationalizations to explain why members of their family and prominent figures in their community cannot really be queer. In their modicum of thinking, queer men, for example, merely are more emotional and creative. Queer women merely enjoy sports and more masculine pursuits. So long as GLBT southerners do not “flaunt” their alternate sexual orientation, they are perceived as slightly eccentric and atypical to the norm.
As Sears himself proclaims, “People who grow up gay in the North are jaded. The conservative views on gender and sexuality take on an air of ambivalence in the Southerner’s imagination.”[xiv] Due to this conditioned denial, one can find many men willing to act and even dress the part of the opposite gender, if only in good fun. Sears recounts a South Carolinian ritual called “the womanless wedding” in which men dress as bride, groom, flower girl, and even soprano soloist—all of this within a strictly heterosexual context.[xv] The primarily Pennsylvanian tradition of the Mummer’s Parade, in which men dress up in flamboyant costumes and often as females, echoes this ceremony.
Sears also reveals the many intrinsic flaws that exist within the context of “hear no evil, see no evil.” The flip side, of course, is that Southern honor often reveals itself to be shallow, superficial, sordid, and ignoble. “Its reliance on shame distorts[s] human personality and individualism, forcing even the good man to lose himself in the cacophony of the crowd.”[xvi] Many queer Southerners find themselves unable to live inside the paradox. Further compounding the problem as Sears points out, the sad reality is that many GLBT southerners deliberately refuse to add their talents towards improving their homeland. Perceiving themselves as the South’s last socially acceptable scapegoat, they leave in droves to escape rampant homophobia. The South remains an unkind place to those who dare to be different. For men and women unfortunate enough to grow up particularly different, it can be an outright liability.
In defiance of these prejudicial attitudes, which are nurtured in ignorance and fear of the unknown, many southern queers refuse to take a defeatist mentality. By refusing to tiptoe around uncomfortable truths and in refusing to take a passive-aggressive approach towards their sexual orientation, they consider themselves the new rebels of their homeland, with a cause every bit as revolutionary as those espoused by their Confederate and Civil Rights ancestors. “They are a reflection of the South’s strengths and tragedies; they are the inheritors of the Southern inclination to rebel.”[xvii] With a bold tenacity as shocking as it is sublime, southern queers lead a new charge up Cemetery Ridge and stand unbowed before the threat of lynching, police dogs, fire hoses, and homemade bombs.
END NOTES
[i] Wyatt-Brown, Betram. Southern Honor: Ethics and Behavior in the Old South. New York: Oxford U.P., 1982. pps. 16-17.
[ii] William, Walter L. Growing Up Gay in the South. Binghamton, NY: Harrington Park P., 1991. p. 5 (Introduction).
[iii] Sears, James T. Ibid. p. 144.
[iv] Wyatt-Brown. p.114. qtd. in Sears, p.190.
[v] Sears p. 190-91.
[vi] Ibid. p. 191.
[vii] Frazier, E. Franklin. The Negro Family in the United States. Chicago, U. of Chicago P., 1939. p. 79
[viii] Ibid. p. 72
[ix] Ibid. p. 24.
[x][x] Wyatt-Brown. p. 22
[xi] Ibid. p. 10
[xii] Ibid. 185.
[xiii] qtd. in Ibid. p. 135.
[xiv] qtd. in Ibid. p. 247.
[xv] Ibid.
[xvi] Ibid.
[xvii] Williams, p. 5
The Mind of the South, Review
W.J. Cash- The Reluctant Southerner
W.J. Cash’s 1941 book, The Mind of the South, confronts many hard truths about the Southern character. In a blunt, no-nonsense manner, the author rips into many preconceived stereotypes of the region and explodes the mythology of the South.
However, Cash also reveals much about the south that is great and worth preserving. In doing so, the work divulges as much about its subject as it does about its highly sensitive and troubled author. While at times his portrayal of his native region borders on unfairly critical, it must be understood that Cash often merely projected his own misery and emotional upheaval onto his homeland by way of his embittered prose.
Although he uses the medium of “the South” as the template upon which he launches his sardonic tirades, one must not forget that Cash was his own toughest critic. Thus, the author had a love/hate relationship both with his place of birth as well as himself. This notion is hardly alien to the human condition. Humanity has an unfortunate tendency to desire scapegoats and whipping boys. All of us, to some degree or another, have projected our own weaknesses, fears, and uncertainty upon some group or persons whom we perceive are not like us.
Is it surprising then, that if Cash could not ever find lasting comfort within himself that he would ever find lasting comfort in anyone or anything?
Cash’s proficiency in writing resulted from a keen perception of human nature, a scathing wit, and a unique gift at satire. His tragic flaw lay in his immense resentment towards much of the world around him. Turned outwardly, through his pen, seething resentment allowed him to make prescient insights upon southern society, tinged, of course, with inevitable melancholia. Turned inwardly, resentment produced a brooding worrywart plagued with compulsive doubt, fear, and self-loathing. These emotional conflicts eventually led to his death by his own hand.
All great social satirists possess some degree of these same qualities; Cash was no exception. In the era of Enlightenment, Voltaire and Jonathan Swift both produced works of equal brilliance; it has been noted that satirists “diss because they’re pissed”. Anger/Resentment is often the base motivation of writers who dare to turn a mirror to society’s flaws. They believe they act out of a moral duty to society by forcing people to confront the errors of their ways. They seek to rectify wrong and replace it with right.
Voltaire lampooned the naïve optimism of his time, as did Swift. Cash, by contrast, mocked a society that, in his perception, lived in self-delusion and grandiose fantasy. In his own lifetime, he had seen firsthand the effects of two separate economic depressions. To his dismay, he saw a people unwilling to learn from the example of history.
Despite having lost everything in the aftermath of the Civil War and then The Great Depression, Cash observed in the Southern people an attitude of arrogance and unwillingness to compromise. He believed this temperament would continue to get the South into trouble for years to come.
The Mind of the South explores the reasons why Southerners chose to invent a regional mythology of their very own. Defeated in war, humiliated by conquest, their way of life utterly destroyed, it is hardly surprising that many native sons and daughters of the South would voluntarily believe in a rosy, glossy, highly romanticized version of their own troubled history.
Confronting the truth would be too painful an exercise for a prideful people accustomed to living their lives as they pleased and especially without any outside interference from anyone. In an effort to circle the wagons, edit out the messy bits of their shared past, and take pride in their own unique culture, many Southerners truly believed in over-romanticized tripe like Gone With the Wind, chivalry, and “Good Country People” (as Flannery O’Connor so eloquently put it).
This unfortunate phenomenon continues to this day, regardless of whatever region in the United States to which one claims allegiance. Today, many of us take stock in such foolish constructs as “The American Dream”. We teach our children to believe in miracles and fanciful notions like Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny.
None of these are, in fact, “real”. Perception might be ninety percent of reality, but despite our best efforts, we cannot change what should be or what isn’t into what we want it to be. To do so remains an exercise in wishful thinking and futility. Such efforts are akin to pissing in the wind, or in the manner of Cervantes’ tragic protagonist, Don Quixote, tilting at windmills. Cash understood this concept well.
As he saw it, the South was trying to accomplish the impossible—invent a better past. As he realized, not only were such actions useless and bordering on psychotic, they were also counterproductive. To Cash, the past was past, and no amount of well-intentioned posturing would ever change it. The Chinese definition of insanity explains this paradox quite nicely. This principle states that insanity is the action of doing the same thing the same way and expecting a completely different result in return.
In Cash’s viewpoint, this pointless gesture was another great fallacy of the Southern mentality. He believed that progress did not and would not occur until Southerners put their past behind them and genuinely sought to change things for the better.
Even now, Southerners remain mired in this great quandary. Instead of putting issues of racial conflict and societal inferiority behind them, they still cling to the very things that keep them in chains.
Their prideful, stubborn nature keeps society exactly the way they’ve it’s been ever since William Lloyd Garrison’s fiery rhetoric created the concept of the South as we know it—nearly two hundred years ago.
The irony is that many are not willing to change. They are not willing to let go of their own pain and suffering to make strides for the better. As Cash would argue, in the short term, change is painful, but the long-term rewards are lasting and much more beneficial.
As has been stated earlier, Cash took a jaundiced view of his people. Yet, he clearly loved the South—if he did not, then he would not have bothered to agonize over every misstep and flaw. Like an overprotective parent, he doled out occasionally obsessive doses of tough love. He fretted over his Southern progeny, fearful that if he did not come down hard on them, they would not learn from their mistakes. Still, he ultimately wanted only the best for his fellow people.
Cash thus was the reluctant Southerner. He was both an insider and an outsider to the cause. In one respect, his flair for the dramatic and love of storytelling, to name two examples, showed him to be the consummate Southern gentleman. Although, counterbalanced with his showmanship and verbosity was an often tactless, accusatory, warts-and-all delivery that only an outsider to the South would dare reveal.
Again, this speaks volumes about a man who lived his life in extremes—one moment energetic and optimistic, the next woeful and depressed.
His bipolar disorder made him an almost impartial critic. In his times of great joy, he sang the praises of his homeland like a happy songbird. In his times of misery, he showed the seamy, dark underbelly of a culture gone astray. Therein lay the genius of W.J. Cash.
The Mind of the South, then, is a study in contrasts---possessing rays of light as well as shades of dark. It possesses the unique ability to be exuberant yet depressing, funny yet somber, judgmental yet forgiving…all of these at the same instant. Behind each cloud lies a silver lining, and behind each silver lining lies another cloud.
W.J. Cash’s 1941 book, The Mind of the South, confronts many hard truths about the Southern character. In a blunt, no-nonsense manner, the author rips into many preconceived stereotypes of the region and explodes the mythology of the South.
However, Cash also reveals much about the south that is great and worth preserving. In doing so, the work divulges as much about its subject as it does about its highly sensitive and troubled author. While at times his portrayal of his native region borders on unfairly critical, it must be understood that Cash often merely projected his own misery and emotional upheaval onto his homeland by way of his embittered prose.
Although he uses the medium of “the South” as the template upon which he launches his sardonic tirades, one must not forget that Cash was his own toughest critic. Thus, the author had a love/hate relationship both with his place of birth as well as himself. This notion is hardly alien to the human condition. Humanity has an unfortunate tendency to desire scapegoats and whipping boys. All of us, to some degree or another, have projected our own weaknesses, fears, and uncertainty upon some group or persons whom we perceive are not like us.
Is it surprising then, that if Cash could not ever find lasting comfort within himself that he would ever find lasting comfort in anyone or anything?
Cash’s proficiency in writing resulted from a keen perception of human nature, a scathing wit, and a unique gift at satire. His tragic flaw lay in his immense resentment towards much of the world around him. Turned outwardly, through his pen, seething resentment allowed him to make prescient insights upon southern society, tinged, of course, with inevitable melancholia. Turned inwardly, resentment produced a brooding worrywart plagued with compulsive doubt, fear, and self-loathing. These emotional conflicts eventually led to his death by his own hand.
All great social satirists possess some degree of these same qualities; Cash was no exception. In the era of Enlightenment, Voltaire and Jonathan Swift both produced works of equal brilliance; it has been noted that satirists “diss because they’re pissed”. Anger/Resentment is often the base motivation of writers who dare to turn a mirror to society’s flaws. They believe they act out of a moral duty to society by forcing people to confront the errors of their ways. They seek to rectify wrong and replace it with right.
Voltaire lampooned the naïve optimism of his time, as did Swift. Cash, by contrast, mocked a society that, in his perception, lived in self-delusion and grandiose fantasy. In his own lifetime, he had seen firsthand the effects of two separate economic depressions. To his dismay, he saw a people unwilling to learn from the example of history.
Despite having lost everything in the aftermath of the Civil War and then The Great Depression, Cash observed in the Southern people an attitude of arrogance and unwillingness to compromise. He believed this temperament would continue to get the South into trouble for years to come.
The Mind of the South explores the reasons why Southerners chose to invent a regional mythology of their very own. Defeated in war, humiliated by conquest, their way of life utterly destroyed, it is hardly surprising that many native sons and daughters of the South would voluntarily believe in a rosy, glossy, highly romanticized version of their own troubled history.
Confronting the truth would be too painful an exercise for a prideful people accustomed to living their lives as they pleased and especially without any outside interference from anyone. In an effort to circle the wagons, edit out the messy bits of their shared past, and take pride in their own unique culture, many Southerners truly believed in over-romanticized tripe like Gone With the Wind, chivalry, and “Good Country People” (as Flannery O’Connor so eloquently put it).
This unfortunate phenomenon continues to this day, regardless of whatever region in the United States to which one claims allegiance. Today, many of us take stock in such foolish constructs as “The American Dream”. We teach our children to believe in miracles and fanciful notions like Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny.
None of these are, in fact, “real”. Perception might be ninety percent of reality, but despite our best efforts, we cannot change what should be or what isn’t into what we want it to be. To do so remains an exercise in wishful thinking and futility. Such efforts are akin to pissing in the wind, or in the manner of Cervantes’ tragic protagonist, Don Quixote, tilting at windmills. Cash understood this concept well.
As he saw it, the South was trying to accomplish the impossible—invent a better past. As he realized, not only were such actions useless and bordering on psychotic, they were also counterproductive. To Cash, the past was past, and no amount of well-intentioned posturing would ever change it. The Chinese definition of insanity explains this paradox quite nicely. This principle states that insanity is the action of doing the same thing the same way and expecting a completely different result in return.
In Cash’s viewpoint, this pointless gesture was another great fallacy of the Southern mentality. He believed that progress did not and would not occur until Southerners put their past behind them and genuinely sought to change things for the better.
Even now, Southerners remain mired in this great quandary. Instead of putting issues of racial conflict and societal inferiority behind them, they still cling to the very things that keep them in chains.
Their prideful, stubborn nature keeps society exactly the way they’ve it’s been ever since William Lloyd Garrison’s fiery rhetoric created the concept of the South as we know it—nearly two hundred years ago.
The irony is that many are not willing to change. They are not willing to let go of their own pain and suffering to make strides for the better. As Cash would argue, in the short term, change is painful, but the long-term rewards are lasting and much more beneficial.
As has been stated earlier, Cash took a jaundiced view of his people. Yet, he clearly loved the South—if he did not, then he would not have bothered to agonize over every misstep and flaw. Like an overprotective parent, he doled out occasionally obsessive doses of tough love. He fretted over his Southern progeny, fearful that if he did not come down hard on them, they would not learn from their mistakes. Still, he ultimately wanted only the best for his fellow people.
Cash thus was the reluctant Southerner. He was both an insider and an outsider to the cause. In one respect, his flair for the dramatic and love of storytelling, to name two examples, showed him to be the consummate Southern gentleman. Although, counterbalanced with his showmanship and verbosity was an often tactless, accusatory, warts-and-all delivery that only an outsider to the South would dare reveal.
Again, this speaks volumes about a man who lived his life in extremes—one moment energetic and optimistic, the next woeful and depressed.
His bipolar disorder made him an almost impartial critic. In his times of great joy, he sang the praises of his homeland like a happy songbird. In his times of misery, he showed the seamy, dark underbelly of a culture gone astray. Therein lay the genius of W.J. Cash.
The Mind of the South, then, is a study in contrasts---possessing rays of light as well as shades of dark. It possesses the unique ability to be exuberant yet depressing, funny yet somber, judgmental yet forgiving…all of these at the same instant. Behind each cloud lies a silver lining, and behind each silver lining lies another cloud.
Saturday, January 06, 2007
Bumper Sticker Logic, Isn't
“If you’re not outraged, you’re not paying attention!” I am outraged, because I am paying attention, so I went to the rally. …and since I’m paying attention, I saw all the patches—the bumper stickers of the bike crowd. …and they told me to Smash Patriarchy! Smash Capitalism! Smash Racism! Smash the State! …and I was outraged, and I got a hammer, and I got on my bike and I rode and I was set to Smash Patriarchy! Smash Capitalism! Smash Racism! Smash the State! …and I went to kill my television and when I saw it I realized it was never alive, and even if it was, it never did anything to me, it’s the people who make the shows I choose to watch. …and I went to smash capitalism, but all I could find was the products of it, because capitalism is about products, and all I could find to smash were the windows, and those just got replaced by insurance money and the photo of me smashing them did make the papers which impressed me until I realized I was now a poster boy for more cops on the streets to defend capitalism. …and I went to smash the state but all I could find were state workers who grumbled about their jobs but at least they had some benefits and job security which is more than could be said for the rest of the people working for capitalists…and even if I could find a state to smash I started wondering what all these individuals would do without a state and if smashing the state was like smashing an anthill—the ants just rebuild it because they don’t know anything else. …and I went to smash patriarchy, and while I found evidence of it everywhere, I just couldn’t find the headquarters. So I just started talking to people about sex and gender and explaining that all those angry feminists aren’t wrong so much as they are starting conversations with people that are too advanced for them, like trying to teach a kid to read and starting with War and Peace. …and I went to smash racism. But except for the Klan and others who do a better job at overt racism, I realized that a lot of racism is hatred caused by ignorance. And getting mad at the ignorant is like getting mad at that kid who can’t read War and Peace because nobody taught him what A, B, and C meant. And the cure for ignorance isn’t smashing, but information. …and…and …and now I want to end capitalism, end racism, end sexism, end the state as we know it, but I want to build. I’m opening up my mouth, opening up my ears, opening up my arms for a hug and opening up my mind. …and now I’m thinking. …and now I’m outraged. …and now I’m really paying attention. |
| |
The First Black Reconstruction.
The first African-American Reconstruction. (1866-1877) The second African-American Reconstruction (1949?, possibly sooner- )
Source: Woodward, C
Source: Woodward, C
Source: Woodward, C. Vann. The Burden of Southern History. 2nd edition. Louisiana St. P., 1970. pgs. 104-107
The immigrants had their own handicaps of language and prejudice to deal with, but they never had anything approaching the handicaps against which the African-American had to struggle to gain acceptance. The prejudices that the immigrants confronted were nothing like the race prejudice with which the African-American had to cope.
Nor was the white immigrants’ enfranchisement accompanied by the disfranchisement of the ruling and propertied classes of the community in which he settled. Neither did the exercise of his franchise have to be protected by the bayonets of federal troops, nor did the gaining of his political rights appear to old settlers as a penalty and punishment inflicted upon them, a deliberate humiliation of them by their conquerors.
Political leaders of the immigrants were not ordinarily regarded by the old settlers as “carpetbaggers”, intruders, and puppets of a hostile government sent to rule over them; immigrants did not regard the old settlers as their former owners, any more than the old settlers looked upon the immigrants as their former slaves. The situation of the latest political neophytes was, after all, in many ways quite different from the neophytes of the seventies.
The time eventually came when the incubus of their political genesis returned to haunt the freedmen and destroy their future. That was the time when the two dominant operative motives of Radical Reconstruction, party advantage and sectional business interests, became inactive---the time when it became apparent that those mighty ends could be better served by abandoning the experiment and leaving the freedmen to shift for themselves.
The philanthropic motive was still a factor, and in many minds still strong, but it was not enough without the support of the two powerful props of party advantage and sectional interest. The moment of collapse came at different times and at different states, but the climax and consolidation of the decision came with the disputed presidential election of 1976 and the settlement that resolved it in the Compromise of 1877.
It would be neither fair nor accurate to place all the blame upon the North and its selfish interests. There had been plenty of willing co-operations on the part of Southern whites. They had used craft and guile, force and violence, economic pressure and physical terror, and all the subtle psychological of race prejudice and propaganda at their command.
But the Southern whites were after all a minority, and not a very strong minority at that. The North had not only numbers and powers on its side, but the law and the Constitution as well. When the moment of crisis arrived, however, the old doubts and skepticism of the North returned, the doubts that had kept the African-American disenfranchised in the North after freedman’s suffrage had been imposed upon the South.
After the fifteenth amendment was passed, the North rapidly lost interest in African-American voters. They were pushed out of the limelight by other interests, beset by prejudices, and neglected by politicians.
The Northern African-American did not enjoy a fraction of the political success the Southern African-American enjoyed, as modest as that was. Reformers and Mugwumps of the North identified corruption with the Radical wing of the Republican party, lost interest in the African-American allies of the Radicals, and looked upon them as a means of perpetuating corrupt government all of the nation as well in the South.
In this mood, they came to the conclusion that that the African-American voter had been given a fair chance to prove his worth as a responsible citizen and that the experiment had proved a failure.
This conclusion appeared in many places, most strangely perhaps in that old Champion of the race, the New York Tribune. (April 7, 1877), which declared that African-Americans had been “given ample opportunity to develop their own latent capacities,” and had only succeeded in proving that “as a race they are idle, ignorant, and vicious.”
The North’s loss of faith in its own cause is reflected in many surprising places. One example must suffice. It is of special interest because it comes from the supreme official charged with enforcing the Fifteenth Amendment and guaranteeing to the freedmen their political rights, the President whose administration coincided with Radical Reconstruction and the whole great experiment- General U.S. Grant.
According to the diary of Secretary Hamilton Fish, entry of January 17, 1877, he [Grant] says he opposed the Fifteenth Amendment and thinks it was a mistake, that it done the African-American no good, and had been a hindrance to the South, and by no means a political advantage to the North.
During the present struggle for African-American rights, which might be called Second Reconstruction—though one of a very different sort—I have noticed among African-American intellectuals at times a tendency to look back upon the First Reconstruction as if it was in some ways a sort of Golden Age.
In this nostalgic view that the period takes the shape of the race’s finest hour, a time of heroic leaders and deed, of high faith and firm resolution, a time of forthright and passionate action, with no bowing to compromises of “deliberate speed”. I think I understand their feelings.
Reconstruction will always have a special and powerful meaning for African-Americans. It is undoubtedly a period full of rich and tragic and meaningful history, a period that should be studiously searched for its meanings, and a period that has many meanings to yield.
But I seriously doubt that it will ever serve satisfactorily as a Golden Age—for anybody.
There is too much irony mixed with the tragedy.
Friday, January 05, 2007
Chronic Activism Syndrome (CAS) and how to avoid it
Piggybacking on what Chutney has said, let me add my two cents.
Giving up on Cynicism
H/T to this website. Materialism, Poverty, and the Root of Evil.
Giving up on Cynicism
The thing about CAS (Chronic Activism Syndrome) is that it’s damned exhausting in the end.
Bumper sticker logic, isn’t.
You can’t force the world to be something you think it ought to be. That just makes you miserable in the process.
You can only do what you can do.
Life is what you make of it. It can be a horrible place or a wonderful place.
It’s all in how you look at it.
- All government, in its essence, is a conspiracy against the superior man: its one permanent object is to oppress him and cripple him. If it be aristocratic in organization, then it seeks to protect the man who is superior only in law against the man who is superior in fact; if it be democratic, then it seeks to protect the man who is inferior in every way against both. One of its primary functions is to regiment men by force, to make them as much alike as possible and as dependent upon one another as possible, to search out and combat originality among them.
- All it can see in an original idea is potential change, and hence an invasion of its prerogatives. The most dangerous man to any government is the man who is able to think things out for himself, without regard to the prevailing superstitions and taboos.
- Almost inevitably he comes to the conclusion that the government he lives under is dishonest, insane and intolerable, and so, if he is romantic, he tries to change it. And even if he is not romantic personally he is very apt to spread discontent among those who are.
- from Smart Set (December 1919)
- A cynic is a man who, when he smells flowers, looks around for a coffin.
- I'm a professional cynic, but my heart's not it in. I'm paying the cost of living life at the limit.
It will also always be necessary for decent people to fight the injustices that lead to poverty. The next time some pious apologist for government oppression and the status quo feeds you the line that poverty is good for the soul, remember that when everybody's standard of living starts to increase, materialism will begin to decrease.
If s/he is blowing that particular brand of smoke up your arse, it must be in his or her self-interest to keep you down.
H/T to this website. Materialism, Poverty, and the Root of Evil.
Thursday, January 04, 2007
Suburbian Dee-light
Plastic Man
A man lives at the corner of the street,
And his neighbors think he's helpful and he's sweet,
'Cause he never swears and he always shakes you by the hand,
But no one knows he really is a plastic man.
He's got plastic heart, plastic teeth and toes,
(Yeah, he's plastic man)
He's got plastic knees and a perfect plastic nose.
(Yeah, he's plastic man)
He's got plastic lips that hide his plastic teeth and gums,
And plastic legs that reach up to his plastic bum.
(Plastic bum)
Plastic man got no brain,
Plastic man don't feel no pain,
Plastic people look the same,
Yeah, yeah, yeah.
Kick his shin or tread on his face,
Pull his nose all over the place,
He can't disfigure, or disgrace,
Plastic man (plastic man).
He's got plastic flowers growing up the walls,
He eats plastic food with a plastic knife and fork,
He likes plastic cups and saucers 'cause they never break,
And he likes to lick his gravy off a plastic plate.
Plastic man got no brain,
Plastic man don't feel no pain,
Plastic people look the same,
Yeah, yeah, yeah.
Kick his shin or tread on his face,
Pull his nose all over the place,
He can't disfigure, or disgrace,
Plastic man (plastic man).
He's got a plastic wife who wears a plastic mac,
(Yeah, he's plastic man)
And his children wanna be plastic like their dad,
(Yeah, he's plastic man)
He's got a phony smile that makes you think he understands,
But no one ever gets the truth from plastic man
Plastic man
(plastic man).
-Ray DaviesThe Kinks (1970)
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
The Fruits of Capitalism
Men of Good Fortune
Men of good fortune, often cause empires to fall
While men of poor beginnings, often can't do anything at all
The rich son waits for his father to die
The poor just drink and cry
And me I just don't care at all
Men of good fortune, very often can't do a thing
While men of poor beginnings, often can do anything
At heart they try to act like a man
Handle things the best way they can
They have no rich daddy to fall back on
Men of good fortune, often cause empires to fall
While men of poor beginnings, often can't do anything at all
It takes money to make money they say
Look at the Fords, but didn't they start that way?
Anyway, it makes no difference to me
Men of good fortune, often wish that they could die
While men of poor beginnings want what they have
And to get it they'll die
All those great things that life has to give
They wanna have money and live
But me, I just don't care at all
Men of good fortune
Men of poor beginnings
Men of good fortune, often cause empires to fall
While men of poor beginnings, often can't do anything at all
The rich son waits for his father to die
The poor just drink and cry
And me I just don't care at all
Men of good fortune, very often can't do a thing
While men of poor beginnings, often can do anything
At heart they try to act like a man
Handle things the best way they can
They have no rich daddy to fall back on
Men of good fortune, often cause empires to fall
While men of poor beginnings, often can't do anything at all
It takes money to make money they say
Look at the Fords, but didn't they start that way?
Anyway, it makes no difference to me
Men of good fortune, often wish that they could die
While men of poor beginnings want what they have
And to get it they'll die
All those great things that life has to give
They wanna have money and live
But me, I just don't care at all
Men of good fortune
Men of poor beginnings
Letting Go
Athletes call this state being "in the zone". It's a time in which you forget yourself, temporarily, and get so caught up in whatever it is that you're doing that you seem to exist as an instinctual, not a intellectual being. You seem connected to an oversoul, totally beyond your comprehension and beyond your control.
Ego Death
This past year has been one of the most stressful years of my life, for a variety of reasons. I, as much as any of you out there, crave a lack of tension and a sense of relaxation. In my own private world, I have to have a lot of time to decompress. I have to have time to unwind and let things just sink in.
How do I deal with stress?
I use affirmations. Not always as much as I should, of course, but enough that I know they work for me. I start by saying to myself, when I think to:
“There are a certain number of things I can control, and a large number of things I cannot. Always strive to never confuse the two”.
I’m the sort of person who always wants to be in control of his own destiny. I’ve never liked being pulled one direction or another, or ascribing to this trend or that trend…“swimming with the current”, as Thomas Jefferson put it. I often say that if the world is truly a stage in which we are all players, then I am an actor with a very limited range. I cannot play anyone but myself. However, I do play myself extraordinarily well.
I am reminded of a passage in Virgil’s Anaeid that I was forced to read my senior year of undergrad.
“Humans make plans, and the Gods laugh.”
I can’t count the number of times that I’ve gotten my hopes up, in expectation of lofty goal, only to have it crumble at my feet. Such is life.
For a long time, after each of these disappointments, I played the “what if” game.
“What if I had just spent more time on this problem as opposed to that problem?”
“What if I hadn’t said that to her or him in that situation?”
“What if I’d never taken that job?”
You can get into a bad habit of saying “what if” to the point that it paralyzes you from making any actual progress.
The fallacy in this line of thinking is that it fosters a belief in the impossible…the irrational.
IF you or I simply try hard enough, gets hurt enough, or puts himself or herself in enough life situations, we believe, then disappointment and failure just won’t happen.
That’s a nice delusion, but it’s hardly the truth.
In my own life, the times in which I have looked back and played that horribly defeatist game of second-guessing myself, I've been the most miserable.
I know that the holidays, especially, are times in which many of us try to put on a good face. We, for either humility’s sake or for a sense of following the pack, attempt to be better people for a brief time.
So this year, I resolve…this time…to reform my way of thinking about life.
I resolve that I may always remember that mistakes are inevitable. May I never forget that there lies a great distinction between the laughter of the Gods and the laughter of my heart.
And may I never forget the difference between the two.
Ego Death
This past year has been one of the most stressful years of my life, for a variety of reasons. I, as much as any of you out there, crave a lack of tension and a sense of relaxation. In my own private world, I have to have a lot of time to decompress. I have to have time to unwind and let things just sink in.
How do I deal with stress?
I use affirmations. Not always as much as I should, of course, but enough that I know they work for me. I start by saying to myself, when I think to:
“There are a certain number of things I can control, and a large number of things I cannot. Always strive to never confuse the two”.
I’m the sort of person who always wants to be in control of his own destiny. I’ve never liked being pulled one direction or another, or ascribing to this trend or that trend…“swimming with the current”, as Thomas Jefferson put it. I often say that if the world is truly a stage in which we are all players, then I am an actor with a very limited range. I cannot play anyone but myself. However, I do play myself extraordinarily well.
I am reminded of a passage in Virgil’s Anaeid that I was forced to read my senior year of undergrad.
“Humans make plans, and the Gods laugh.”
I can’t count the number of times that I’ve gotten my hopes up, in expectation of lofty goal, only to have it crumble at my feet. Such is life.
For a long time, after each of these disappointments, I played the “what if” game.
“What if I had just spent more time on this problem as opposed to that problem?”
“What if I hadn’t said that to her or him in that situation?”
“What if I’d never taken that job?”
You can get into a bad habit of saying “what if” to the point that it paralyzes you from making any actual progress.
The fallacy in this line of thinking is that it fosters a belief in the impossible…the irrational.
IF you or I simply try hard enough, gets hurt enough, or puts himself or herself in enough life situations, we believe, then disappointment and failure just won’t happen.
That’s a nice delusion, but it’s hardly the truth.
In my own life, the times in which I have looked back and played that horribly defeatist game of second-guessing myself, I've been the most miserable.
I know that the holidays, especially, are times in which many of us try to put on a good face. We, for either humility’s sake or for a sense of following the pack, attempt to be better people for a brief time.
So this year, I resolve…this time…to reform my way of thinking about life.
I resolve that I may always remember that mistakes are inevitable. May I never forget that there lies a great distinction between the laughter of the Gods and the laughter of my heart.
And may I never forget the difference between the two.
Tuesday, January 02, 2007
Corporate Classism
Before I begin, let me preface this post by saying that I have been going through corporate documentation hell trying to prevent myself from being fired.
To wit, the right hand doesn't know what the left hand is doing. To wit, the left hand doesn't know that it has a right hand and the right hand doesn't know that it has a left hand. Certain people are ambidextrious and certain people are only right handed. Certain people are left handed and could be right handed but choose not to be.
And the whole crux of this is to say that the more complicated and convoluted you make a system, the harder it is to navigate through treacherous waters.
It's quite fortunate that I am educated and white at times like this. If I was neither educated, nor white, nor likely male--it is quite likely that I would have found myself summarily fired. I would not have known to advocate for myself. I would not have known about options. I would not have known how to network.
The more complex this world becomes, the more and more disenfranchised the poor and ignorant become. Technology is designed for people who have had the luxury to be educated and thus capable of understanding it. Customers called in all the time regarding rudimentary questions that a life of relatively middle-class prosperity could have remedied.
Yet, the big wigs concerned with profit-share, stock portfolios, and making money care little about this. They just want to make money. Nevermind if the technology is far too complicated for the ignorant and ill-educated. Nevermind if humanity is not, as yet, hard-wired to deal with it. Nevermind all of this--it's all about making profit.
This is when the small government side of me rears its ugly head. It takes a resourceful, wily person to navigate through an increasingly complex, convoluted corporate system.
Let me ask one question of you, my dear readership:
However, as we continue to complicate and compartmentalize our world, are we really making things easier for ourselves?
To wit, the right hand doesn't know what the left hand is doing. To wit, the left hand doesn't know that it has a right hand and the right hand doesn't know that it has a left hand. Certain people are ambidextrious and certain people are only right handed. Certain people are left handed and could be right handed but choose not to be.
And the whole crux of this is to say that the more complicated and convoluted you make a system, the harder it is to navigate through treacherous waters.
It's quite fortunate that I am educated and white at times like this. If I was neither educated, nor white, nor likely male--it is quite likely that I would have found myself summarily fired. I would not have known to advocate for myself. I would not have known about options. I would not have known how to network.
The more complex this world becomes, the more and more disenfranchised the poor and ignorant become. Technology is designed for people who have had the luxury to be educated and thus capable of understanding it. Customers called in all the time regarding rudimentary questions that a life of relatively middle-class prosperity could have remedied.
Yet, the big wigs concerned with profit-share, stock portfolios, and making money care little about this. They just want to make money. Nevermind if the technology is far too complicated for the ignorant and ill-educated. Nevermind if humanity is not, as yet, hard-wired to deal with it. Nevermind all of this--it's all about making profit.
This is when the small government side of me rears its ugly head. It takes a resourceful, wily person to navigate through an increasingly complex, convoluted corporate system.
Let me ask one question of you, my dear readership:
However, as we continue to complicate and compartmentalize our world, are we really making things easier for ourselves?
Friday, December 29, 2006
My New Year's Resolution
ANYWAY
People are unreasonable, illogical, and self-centered,
LOVE THEM ANYWAY
If you do good, people will accuse you of
selfish, ulterior motives,
DO GOOD ANYWAY
If you are successful,
you win false friends and true enemies,
SUCCEED ANYWAY
The good you do will be forgotten tomorrow,
DO GOOD ANYWAY
Honesty and frankness make you vulnerable,
BE HONEST AND FRANK ANYWAY
What you spent years building may be
destroyed overnight,
BUILD ANYWAY
People really need help
but may attack you if you help them,
HELP PEOPLE ANYWAY
Give the world the best you have
And you’ll get kicked in the teeth,
GIVE THE WORLD THE BEST YOU’VE GOT ANYWAY.
LOVE THEM ANYWAY
If you do good, people will accuse you of
selfish, ulterior motives,
DO GOOD ANYWAY
If you are successful,
you win false friends and true enemies,
SUCCEED ANYWAY
The good you do will be forgotten tomorrow,
DO GOOD ANYWAY
Honesty and frankness make you vulnerable,
BE HONEST AND FRANK ANYWAY
What you spent years building may be
destroyed overnight,
BUILD ANYWAY
People really need help
but may attack you if you help them,
HELP PEOPLE ANYWAY
Give the world the best you have
And you’ll get kicked in the teeth,
GIVE THE WORLD THE BEST YOU’VE GOT ANYWAY.
-Attributed to Mother Teresa.
Thursday, December 28, 2006
Hierarchies
Western Civilization, from the rise of the Roman Catholic church onward, has been defined by set of ascending hierarchies.
We are taught that all must start at the top, then work their way up. Rung by rung, we ascend to our highest level of competence, or incompetence, depending on the circumstances.
We here in America pride ourselves on having worked our way to the top. We pat ourselves on the back for living in a country where social mobility is fact, rather than fiction. We start to spin personal mythologies of pulling ourselves up by our bootstraps.
The problem is that once we've started making $100,000 a year or more, there's a natural tendency in human nature for us to forget that we too, once were at the bottom of the totem pole.
The Japanese do it a tad differently. In a corporate environment, they place their highest esteem and regard upon those at the bottom of the pyramid. However, Japanese society is quite conformist. Individuality is tolerated within reason, but the idea of the collective mindset is valued far above any sort of individual liberty.
There's a fine line between fear and trust in people. Many small businesses start based on ideas of trust. The employees know and trust each other. Those in charge of setting up this great-leap-forward---this grassroots endeavor---see the problems caused by corporate heirarchies. They seek to avoid them whenever possible. They don't treat their employees as though they are prisoners. They do not run their management like the Gestapo.
Then a larger company extends a check forward. They've discovered that the good idea advanced by this small company could help them, the large corporation, make even more money.
So the eternal quandry presents itself, thusly: Sell out and perpetuate unequality? Sell out and live a life of wealth? Spread fear, rather than trust? Sell out and ensure that an unfair system continues forward?
Or: Stay poor, pure, and happy?
Decisions, decisions.
We are taught that all must start at the top, then work their way up. Rung by rung, we ascend to our highest level of competence, or incompetence, depending on the circumstances.
We here in America pride ourselves on having worked our way to the top. We pat ourselves on the back for living in a country where social mobility is fact, rather than fiction. We start to spin personal mythologies of pulling ourselves up by our bootstraps.
The problem is that once we've started making $100,000 a year or more, there's a natural tendency in human nature for us to forget that we too, once were at the bottom of the totem pole.
The Japanese do it a tad differently. In a corporate environment, they place their highest esteem and regard upon those at the bottom of the pyramid. However, Japanese society is quite conformist. Individuality is tolerated within reason, but the idea of the collective mindset is valued far above any sort of individual liberty.
There's a fine line between fear and trust in people. Many small businesses start based on ideas of trust. The employees know and trust each other. Those in charge of setting up this great-leap-forward---this grassroots endeavor---see the problems caused by corporate heirarchies. They seek to avoid them whenever possible. They don't treat their employees as though they are prisoners. They do not run their management like the Gestapo.
Then a larger company extends a check forward. They've discovered that the good idea advanced by this small company could help them, the large corporation, make even more money.
So the eternal quandry presents itself, thusly: Sell out and perpetuate unequality? Sell out and live a life of wealth? Spread fear, rather than trust? Sell out and ensure that an unfair system continues forward?
Or: Stay poor, pure, and happy?
Decisions, decisions.
Wednesday, December 27, 2006
Taking a bit of a break...
Let me take a bit of a break from saving the world to talk about something more personal.
Relationships.
Whether romantic or platonic, they take time. There will be occasional tension. Human beings are wired to never be completely content. We are hard wired, genetically, to be adaptable to an unfamiliar, sometimes hostile environment. True peace of mind is a pipe dream. A genetic impossibility.
Unitarians don't want to be saved! They want closure!
-Garrison Keiler
And that's true. We don't want to be saved. We want to KNOW!
And sometimes, we can't know everything. We are often paradoxical beings.
I seek less and less to understand and more and more to just be okay with contradiction. Not everything can be explained. There will always be unknowns.
I'm learning to be okay with that.
Relationships.
Whether romantic or platonic, they take time. There will be occasional tension. Human beings are wired to never be completely content. We are hard wired, genetically, to be adaptable to an unfamiliar, sometimes hostile environment. True peace of mind is a pipe dream. A genetic impossibility.
Unitarians don't want to be saved! They want closure!
-Garrison Keiler
And that's true. We don't want to be saved. We want to KNOW!
And sometimes, we can't know everything. We are often paradoxical beings.
I seek less and less to understand and more and more to just be okay with contradiction. Not everything can be explained. There will always be unknowns.
I'm learning to be okay with that.
Sunday, December 24, 2006
Change is Possible!
Even bah-humbugs can get a dose of the spirit every now and then.
Enclosed is the main theme of a favorite Unitarian of mine, Charles Dickens.
Enclosed is the main theme of a favorite Unitarian of mine, Charles Dickens.
Yes! and the bedpost was his own. The bed was his own, the room was his own. Best and happiest of all, the Time before him was his own, to make amends in!
“I will live in the Past, the Present, and the Future!” Scrooge repeated, as he scrambled out of bed. “The Spirits of all Three shall strive within me. Oh Jacob Marley! Heaven, and the Christmas Time be praised for this! I say it on my knees, old Jacob; on my knees!”
He was so fluttered and so glowing with his good intentions, that his broken voice would scarcely answer to his call. He had been sobbing violently in his conflict with the Spirit, and his face was wet with tears.
“They are not torn down,” cried Scrooge, folding one of his bed-curtains in his arms, “they are not torn down, rings and all. They are here—I am here—the shadows of the things that would have been, may be dispelled. They will be. I know they will!”
His hands were busy with his garments all this time; turning them inside out, putting them on upside down, tearing them, mislaying them, making them parties to every kind of extravagance.
“I don’t know what to do!” cried Scrooge, laughing and crying in the same breath; and making a perfect Laocoön of himself with his stockings. “I am as light as a feather, I am as happy as an angel, I am as merry as a schoolboy. I am as giddy as a drunken man. A merry Christmas to everybody! A happy New Year to all the world. Hallo here! Whoop! Hallo!”
Friday, December 22, 2006
A few choice passages this Christmas
1. "Again I say to you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God." (NASB ©1995)
-Jesus of Nazareth. AD 33.
2. When your head gets twisted and your mind grows numb
When you think you're too old, too young, too smart or too dumb
When you're laggin' behind an' losin' your pace
In the slow-motion crawl or life's busy race
No matter whatcha doin' if you start givin' up
If the wine don't come to the top of your cup
If the wind got you sideways with one hand holdin' on
And the other starts slippin' and the feelin' is gone
And your train engine fire needs a new spark to catch it
And the wood's easy findin' but you're lazy to fetch it
And your sidewalk starts curlin' and the street gets too long
And you start walkin' backwards though you know that it's wrong
And lonesome comes up as down goes the day
And tomorrow's mornin' seems so far away
And you feel the reins from your pony are slippin'
And your rope is a-slidin' 'cause your hands are a-drippin'
And your sun-decked desert and evergreen valleys
Turn to broken down slums and trash-can alleys
And your sky cries water and your drain pipe's a-pourin'
And the lightnin's a-flashin' and the thunder's a-crashin'
The windows are rattlin' and breakin' and the roof tops are shakin'
And your whole world's a-slammin' and bangin'
And your minutes of sun turn to hours of storm
An' to yourself you sometimes say"I never knew it was gonna be this way
Why didn't they tell me the day I was born?"
And you start gettin' chills and you're jumpin' from sweat
And you're lookin' for somethin' you ain't quite found yet
And you're knee-deep in dark water with your hands in the air
And the whole world's watchin' with a window peek stare
And your good gal leaves and she's long gone a-flyin'
And your heart feels sick like fish when they're fryin'
And your jackhammer falls from your hands to your feet
But you need it badly an' it lays on the street
And your bell's bangin' loudly but you can't hear its beat
And you think your ears mighta been hurt
Your eyes've turned filthy from the sight-blindin' dirt
And you figured you failed in yesterday's rush
When you were faked out an' fooled while facin' a four flush
And all the time you were holdin' three queens
It's makin you mad, it's makin' you mean
Like in the middle of Life magazine
Bouncin' around a pinball machine
And there's something on your mind that you wanna be sayin'
That somebody someplace oughta be hearin'
But it's trapped on your tongue, sealed in your head
And it bothers you badly when you're layin' in bed
And no matter how you try you just can't say it
And you're scared to your soul you just might forget it
And your eyes get swimmy from the tears in your head
An' your pillows of feathers turn to blankets of lead
And the lion's mouth opens and you're starin' at his teeth
And his jaws start closin' with you underneath
And you're flat on your belly with your hands tied behind
And you wish you'd never taken that last detour sign
You say to yourself Just what am I doing?
On this road I'm walkin',
on this trail I'm turnin'
On this curve I'm hangin'
On this pathway I'm strollin',
this space I'm taking
And this air I'm inhaling?
Am I mixed up too much,
am I mixed up too hard
Why am I walking?
where am I running? What am I saying?
what am I knowing?
On this guitar I'm playing, on this banjo I'm frailing
On this mandolin I'm strumming, in the song I'm singing,
In the tune I'm humming, in the words that I'm thinking
In the words I'm writing
In this ocean of hours I'm all the time drinking
Who am I helping?
What am I breaking?
What am I giving?
What am I taking?
But you try with your whole soul best
Never to think these thoughts and never to let
Them kind of thoughts gain ground
Or make your heart pound
But then again you know when they're around
Just waiting for a chance to slip and drop down
'Cause sometimes you hear 'em when the night time come creeping
And you fear they might catch you sleeping
And you jump from your bed, from the last chapter of dreamin'
And you can't remember for the best of your thinkin'
If that was you in the dream that was screaming
And you know that's somethin' special you're needin'
And you know there's no drug that'll do for the healing
And no liquor in the land to stop your brain from bleeding
You need somethin' special
You need somethin' special, all right
You need a fast flyin' train on a tornado track
To shoot you someplace and shoot you back
You need a cyclone wind on a stream engine howler
That's been banging and booming and blowing forever
That knows your troubles a hundred times over
You need a Greyhound bus that don't bar no race
That won't laugh at your looks
Your voice or your face
And by any number of bets in the book
Will be rolling long after the bubblegum craze
You need something to open up a new door
To show you something you seen before
But overlooked a hundred times or more
You need something to open your eyes
You need something to make it known
That it's you and no one else that owns
That spot that you're standing, that space that you're sitting
That the world ain't got you beat
That it ain't got you licked
It can't get you crazy
no matter how many times you might get kicked
-Bob Dylan, 1963
3. I am not a Labor Leader; I do not want you to follow me or anyone else; if you are looking for a Moses to lead you out of this capitalist wilderness, you will stay right where you are.
I would not lead you into the promised land if I could, because if I lead you in, some one else would lead you out. You must use your heads as well as your hands, and get yourself out of your present condition. - Eugene Debs, 1910
-Jesus of Nazareth. AD 33.
2. When your head gets twisted and your mind grows numb
When you think you're too old, too young, too smart or too dumb
When you're laggin' behind an' losin' your pace
In the slow-motion crawl or life's busy race
No matter whatcha doin' if you start givin' up
If the wine don't come to the top of your cup
If the wind got you sideways with one hand holdin' on
And the other starts slippin' and the feelin' is gone
And your train engine fire needs a new spark to catch it
And the wood's easy findin' but you're lazy to fetch it
And your sidewalk starts curlin' and the street gets too long
And you start walkin' backwards though you know that it's wrong
And lonesome comes up as down goes the day
And tomorrow's mornin' seems so far away
And you feel the reins from your pony are slippin'
And your rope is a-slidin' 'cause your hands are a-drippin'
And your sun-decked desert and evergreen valleys
Turn to broken down slums and trash-can alleys
And your sky cries water and your drain pipe's a-pourin'
And the lightnin's a-flashin' and the thunder's a-crashin'
The windows are rattlin' and breakin' and the roof tops are shakin'
And your whole world's a-slammin' and bangin'
And your minutes of sun turn to hours of storm
An' to yourself you sometimes say"I never knew it was gonna be this way
Why didn't they tell me the day I was born?"
And you start gettin' chills and you're jumpin' from sweat
And you're lookin' for somethin' you ain't quite found yet
And you're knee-deep in dark water with your hands in the air
And the whole world's watchin' with a window peek stare
And your good gal leaves and she's long gone a-flyin'
And your heart feels sick like fish when they're fryin'
And your jackhammer falls from your hands to your feet
But you need it badly an' it lays on the street
And your bell's bangin' loudly but you can't hear its beat
And you think your ears mighta been hurt
Your eyes've turned filthy from the sight-blindin' dirt
And you figured you failed in yesterday's rush
When you were faked out an' fooled while facin' a four flush
And all the time you were holdin' three queens
It's makin you mad, it's makin' you mean
Like in the middle of Life magazine
Bouncin' around a pinball machine
And there's something on your mind that you wanna be sayin'
That somebody someplace oughta be hearin'
But it's trapped on your tongue, sealed in your head
And it bothers you badly when you're layin' in bed
And no matter how you try you just can't say it
And you're scared to your soul you just might forget it
And your eyes get swimmy from the tears in your head
An' your pillows of feathers turn to blankets of lead
And the lion's mouth opens and you're starin' at his teeth
And his jaws start closin' with you underneath
And you're flat on your belly with your hands tied behind
And you wish you'd never taken that last detour sign
You say to yourself Just what am I doing?
On this road I'm walkin',
on this trail I'm turnin'
On this curve I'm hangin'
On this pathway I'm strollin',
this space I'm taking
And this air I'm inhaling?
Am I mixed up too much,
am I mixed up too hard
Why am I walking?
where am I running? What am I saying?
what am I knowing?
On this guitar I'm playing, on this banjo I'm frailing
On this mandolin I'm strumming, in the song I'm singing,
In the tune I'm humming, in the words that I'm thinking
In the words I'm writing
In this ocean of hours I'm all the time drinking
Who am I helping?
What am I breaking?
What am I giving?
What am I taking?
But you try with your whole soul best
Never to think these thoughts and never to let
Them kind of thoughts gain ground
Or make your heart pound
But then again you know when they're around
Just waiting for a chance to slip and drop down
'Cause sometimes you hear 'em when the night time come creeping
And you fear they might catch you sleeping
And you jump from your bed, from the last chapter of dreamin'
And you can't remember for the best of your thinkin'
If that was you in the dream that was screaming
And you know that's somethin' special you're needin'
And you know there's no drug that'll do for the healing
And no liquor in the land to stop your brain from bleeding
You need somethin' special
You need somethin' special, all right
You need a fast flyin' train on a tornado track
To shoot you someplace and shoot you back
You need a cyclone wind on a stream engine howler
That's been banging and booming and blowing forever
That knows your troubles a hundred times over
You need a Greyhound bus that don't bar no race
That won't laugh at your looks
Your voice or your face
And by any number of bets in the book
Will be rolling long after the bubblegum craze
You need something to open up a new door
To show you something you seen before
But overlooked a hundred times or more
You need something to open your eyes
You need something to make it known
That it's you and no one else that owns
That spot that you're standing, that space that you're sitting
That the world ain't got you beat
That it ain't got you licked
It can't get you crazy
no matter how many times you might get kicked
-Bob Dylan, 1963
3. I am not a Labor Leader; I do not want you to follow me or anyone else; if you are looking for a Moses to lead you out of this capitalist wilderness, you will stay right where you are.
I would not lead you into the promised land if I could, because if I lead you in, some one else would lead you out. You must use your heads as well as your hands, and get yourself out of your present condition. - Eugene Debs, 1910
Thursday, December 21, 2006
Art and Chaos Day
I wanted to dedicate this poem to my wonderful girlfriend.
Mother to Son
by Langston Hughes
Well, son, I'll tell you:
Life for me ain't been no crystal stair.
It's had tacks in it,
And splinters,
And boards torn up,
And places with no carpet on the floor—Bare.
But all the time I'se been a-climbin' on,
And reachin' landin's,
And turnin' corners,
And sometimes goin' in the dark
Where there ain't been no light.
So, boy, don't you turn back.
Don't you set down on the steps.
'Cause you finds it's kinder hard.
Don't you fall now—For I'se still goin', honey,
I'se still climbin',
And life for me ain't been no crystal stair.
Mother to Son
by Langston Hughes
Well, son, I'll tell you:
Life for me ain't been no crystal stair.
It's had tacks in it,
And splinters,
And boards torn up,
And places with no carpet on the floor—Bare.
But all the time I'se been a-climbin' on,
And reachin' landin's,
And turnin' corners,
And sometimes goin' in the dark
Where there ain't been no light.
So, boy, don't you turn back.
Don't you set down on the steps.
'Cause you finds it's kinder hard.
Don't you fall now—For I'se still goin', honey,
I'se still climbin',
And life for me ain't been no crystal stair.
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
Rationalizations
Everyone wants to jump to conclusions these days.
Lock 'em up and throw away the key!
Makes you feel good when you say it. But look closer.
If you circle the wagons, it might make you feel secure for a little while. But stand aside and realize the only person you'll be locking in is yourself. If you treat people like prisoners, they will act like prisoners.
Case in point: my girlfriend arrived late last night. I went next door to call her on her cell phone.
I talked to her next-door-neighbor. Yes, I am aware I was asking to use his home phone to call her. Yes, I am aware he didn't know me from Adam.
I was met at the door by a man who acted as though I wanted to steal something from him or beat him up.
I am a twenty-six-year-old white male. I look about 18. I'm hardly the ideal candidate for an armed robbery. I resent being automatically treated as though I am a threat.
This is what I hate about my current job. I am treated as though I am a twelve-year-old in reform school. Instead of punishing the few offenders who bring the rest of us down, we are all punished the same.
How do you foster employee loyalty if you automatically assume they are up to no good? It doesn't foster loyalty. It pisses off employees and makes them desperate to leave. It makes a person work just hard enough to not get fired.
No more, no less.
Lock 'em up and throw away the key!
Makes you feel good when you say it. But look closer.
If you circle the wagons, it might make you feel secure for a little while. But stand aside and realize the only person you'll be locking in is yourself. If you treat people like prisoners, they will act like prisoners.
Case in point: my girlfriend arrived late last night. I went next door to call her on her cell phone.
I talked to her next-door-neighbor. Yes, I am aware I was asking to use his home phone to call her. Yes, I am aware he didn't know me from Adam.
I was met at the door by a man who acted as though I wanted to steal something from him or beat him up.
I am a twenty-six-year-old white male. I look about 18. I'm hardly the ideal candidate for an armed robbery. I resent being automatically treated as though I am a threat.
This is what I hate about my current job. I am treated as though I am a twelve-year-old in reform school. Instead of punishing the few offenders who bring the rest of us down, we are all punished the same.
How do you foster employee loyalty if you automatically assume they are up to no good? It doesn't foster loyalty. It pisses off employees and makes them desperate to leave. It makes a person work just hard enough to not get fired.
No more, no less.
Hope and Christmas-time
This holiday season, let us keep this at heart.
You need something special all right
You need something special to give you hope
But hope's just a word
That maybe you said or maybe you heard
On some windy corner 'round a wide-angled curve
But that's what you need man, and you need it bad
And yer trouble is you know it too good
'Cause you look an' you start getting the chills
'Cause you can't find it on a dollar bill
And it ain't on Macy's window sill
And it ain't on no rich kid's road map
And it ain't in no fat kid's fraternity house
And it ain't made in no Hollywood wheat germ
And it ain't on that dimlit stage
With that half-wit comedian on it
Ranting and raving and taking yer money
And you thinks it's funny
No you can't find it in no night club or no yacht club
And it ain't in the seats of a supper club
And sure as hell you're bound to tell
That no matter how hard you rub
You just ain't a-gonna find it on yer ticket stub
No, and it ain't in the rumors people're tellin' you
And it ain't in the pimple-lotion people are sellin' you
And it ain't in no cardboard-box house
Or down any movie star's blouse
And you can't find it on the golf course
And Uncle Remus can't tell you and neither can Santa Claus
And it ain't in the cream puff hair-do or cotton candy clothes
And it ain't in the dime store dummies or bubblegum goons
And it ain't in the marshmallow noises of the chocolate cake voices
That come knockin' and tappin' in Christmas wrappin'
Sayin' ain't I pretty and ain't I cute and look at my skin Look at my skin shine, look at my skin glow Look at my skin laugh, look at my skin cry
When you can't even sense if they got any insides--These people so pretty in their ribbons and bows
No you'll not now or no other day
Find it on the doorsteps made out-a paper mache´
And inside it the people made of molasses
That every other day buy a new pair of sunglasses
And it ain't in the fifty-star generals and flipped-out phonies
Who'd turn yuh in for a tenth of a penny
Who breathe and burp and bend and crack
And before you can count from one to ten
Do it all over again but this time behind yer back, my friend
The ones that wheel and deal and whirl and twirl
And play games with each other in their sand-box world
And you can't find it either in the no-talent fools
That run around gallant
And make all rules for the ones that got talent
And it ain't in the ones that ain't got any talent but think they do
And think they're foolin' you
The ones who jump on the wagon
Just for a while 'cause they know it's in style
To get their kicks, get out of it quick
And make all kinds of money and chicks
And you yell to yourself and you throw down yer hat
Sayin', "Christ do I gotta be like that?
Ain't there no one here that knows where I'm at?
Ain't there no one here that knows how I feel?"
Good God Almighty
THAT STUFF AIN'T REAL
You need something special all right
You need something special to give you hope
But hope's just a word
That maybe you said or maybe you heard
On some windy corner 'round a wide-angled curve
But that's what you need man, and you need it bad
And yer trouble is you know it too good
'Cause you look an' you start getting the chills
'Cause you can't find it on a dollar bill
And it ain't on Macy's window sill
And it ain't on no rich kid's road map
And it ain't in no fat kid's fraternity house
And it ain't made in no Hollywood wheat germ
And it ain't on that dimlit stage
With that half-wit comedian on it
Ranting and raving and taking yer money
And you thinks it's funny
No you can't find it in no night club or no yacht club
And it ain't in the seats of a supper club
And sure as hell you're bound to tell
That no matter how hard you rub
You just ain't a-gonna find it on yer ticket stub
No, and it ain't in the rumors people're tellin' you
And it ain't in the pimple-lotion people are sellin' you
And it ain't in no cardboard-box house
Or down any movie star's blouse
And you can't find it on the golf course
And Uncle Remus can't tell you and neither can Santa Claus
And it ain't in the cream puff hair-do or cotton candy clothes
And it ain't in the dime store dummies or bubblegum goons
And it ain't in the marshmallow noises of the chocolate cake voices
That come knockin' and tappin' in Christmas wrappin'
Sayin' ain't I pretty and ain't I cute and look at my skin Look at my skin shine, look at my skin glow Look at my skin laugh, look at my skin cry
When you can't even sense if they got any insides--These people so pretty in their ribbons and bows
No you'll not now or no other day
Find it on the doorsteps made out-a paper mache´
And inside it the people made of molasses
That every other day buy a new pair of sunglasses
And it ain't in the fifty-star generals and flipped-out phonies
Who'd turn yuh in for a tenth of a penny
Who breathe and burp and bend and crack
And before you can count from one to ten
Do it all over again but this time behind yer back, my friend
The ones that wheel and deal and whirl and twirl
And play games with each other in their sand-box world
And you can't find it either in the no-talent fools
That run around gallant
And make all rules for the ones that got talent
And it ain't in the ones that ain't got any talent but think they do
And think they're foolin' you
The ones who jump on the wagon
Just for a while 'cause they know it's in style
To get their kicks, get out of it quick
And make all kinds of money and chicks
And you yell to yourself and you throw down yer hat
Sayin', "Christ do I gotta be like that?
Ain't there no one here that knows where I'm at?
Ain't there no one here that knows how I feel?"
Good God Almighty
THAT STUFF AIN'T REAL
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
Global Warming
Here in Atlanta, the high, yesterday, was 75 degrees. I need not remind you that yesterday was DECEMBER 18th!
Record warmth in December. And there's NO SUCH THING AS GLOBAL WARMING, right?
Agh. I really have to stop obsessing about things like this. I do what I can. I drive a (relatively) fuel efficient car. I recycle. I don't waste natural resources. I make sure I am as earth-friendly as possible.
I HATE hot weather. Hate, hate, hate. I joke that I was born part-polar bear. It can hardly ever be too cold for me. This is much to the chagrin of my girlfriend, for whom 50 degrees is an intolerable condition.
My anxiety attack centers around my fear that Atlanta, circa 2040, will resembles Miami, just with less Cubans and worse drivers.
Record warmth in December. And there's NO SUCH THING AS GLOBAL WARMING, right?
Agh. I really have to stop obsessing about things like this. I do what I can. I drive a (relatively) fuel efficient car. I recycle. I don't waste natural resources. I make sure I am as earth-friendly as possible.
I HATE hot weather. Hate, hate, hate. I joke that I was born part-polar bear. It can hardly ever be too cold for me. This is much to the chagrin of my girlfriend, for whom 50 degrees is an intolerable condition.
My anxiety attack centers around my fear that Atlanta, circa 2040, will resembles Miami, just with less Cubans and worse drivers.
Monday, December 18, 2006
Ebony and Ivory?
Despite being a cheesy song, "Ebony and Ivory" is factually incorrect.
Black notes and white notes on a piano keyboard are not in perfect harmony. They are, rather, discordant. Play a random black note and a random white note on a piano and see what I mean. The sound produced will not necessarily be pretty.
However, in combination with each other, black keys and white keys can make beautiful melodies.
I suppose that's the irony (among many others) of this country.
Black notes and white notes on a piano keyboard are not in perfect harmony. They are, rather, discordant. Play a random black note and a random white note on a piano and see what I mean. The sound produced will not necessarily be pretty.
However, in combination with each other, black keys and white keys can make beautiful melodies.
I suppose that's the irony (among many others) of this country.
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
The REAL War on Christmas
13Not long before the Jewish festival of Passover, Jesus went to Jerusalem. 14There he found people selling cattle, sheep, and doves in the temple. He also saw moneychangers sitting at their tables.
15So he took some rope and made a whip. Then he chased everyone out of the temple, together with their sheep and cattle. He turned over the tables of the moneychangers and scattered their coins.
16Jesus said to the people who had been selling doves, "Get those doves out of here!
Don't make my Father's house a marketplace."
17The disciples then remembered that the Scriptures say, "My love for your house burns in me like a fire."
18The Jewish leaders asked Jesus, "What miracle [a] will you work to show us why you have done this?" 19"Destroy this temple," Jesus answered, "and in three days I will build it again!"
20The leaders replied, "It took forty-six years to build this temple. What makes you think you can rebuild it in three days?"
23In Jerusalem during Passover many people put their faith in Jesus, because they saw him work miracles. [b]24But Jesus knew what was in their hearts, and he would not let them have power over him.
25No one had to tell him what people were like. He already knew.
-Gospel of John.
What's Going Wrong
Colin Zeal knows
the value of mass appeal
He's a pedestrian walker
He's a civil talker
He's an affable man
with a plausible plan
keeps his eye on the news
keeps his future in hand
(and then he..)
Looks at his watch
he's on time yet again
Looks at his watch
he's on time yet again
He's pleased with himself
he's pleased with himself
He's so pleased with himself, ah ha
While sitting in traffic
Colin thinks in automatic
He's an immaculate dresser
He's your common aggressor
He's a modern retard
with a love of bombast
Keeps his eye on the news
doesn't dwell on the past
(and then he..)
Looks at his watch,
he's on time yet again
Looks at his watch,
he's on time yet again
He's pleased with himself,
he's pleased with himself
He's so pleased with himself, ah ha
He's pleased with himself,
He's pleased with himself
He's so pleased with himself, ah ha
(and then he..)
He's a modern retard
He's terminal lard
He's an affable man
with a carrotene tan
Because Colin Zeal's ill.
-Damon Albarn, 1993.
Blogging versus Life
Dear Readership:
I am aware I haven't blogged as frequently as I have previously. Please forgive.
New relationships take up much time. Plus, I seem to be on this new diet called The Sex Diet. Too busy having sex to take time to eat or blog.
I have a cold today, which means that I have called in sick to work. What little voice I have left sounds like Louis Armstrong. I must admit, however, that I am not terribly upset to not have to go into work.
My mantra during this time of year is: at least I don't work retail.
People call in close to the holidays with the strangest requests.
The frenzy of buy, buy, buy coupled with guilt and frustration make for an unpleasant combination. Businesses may make money hand over fist during this time of year, but they also lose lots of customer base. It tests the patience of saints to deal with this time of year properly.
Everyone, employee or customer alike is on a short fuse. The pressure placed on everyone washes over to all aspects of their lives.
I am in a bad mood and have too much to do so I
P.S. I recommend doing your Christmas shopping online. It totally saves time and prevents you from having to be around rude people.
I am aware I haven't blogged as frequently as I have previously. Please forgive.
New relationships take up much time. Plus, I seem to be on this new diet called The Sex Diet. Too busy having sex to take time to eat or blog.
I have a cold today, which means that I have called in sick to work. What little voice I have left sounds like Louis Armstrong. I must admit, however, that I am not terribly upset to not have to go into work.
My mantra during this time of year is: at least I don't work retail.
People call in close to the holidays with the strangest requests.
The frenzy of buy, buy, buy coupled with guilt and frustration make for an unpleasant combination. Businesses may make money hand over fist during this time of year, but they also lose lots of customer base. It tests the patience of saints to deal with this time of year properly.
Everyone, employee or customer alike is on a short fuse. The pressure placed on everyone washes over to all aspects of their lives.
I am in a bad mood and have too much to do so I
- Don't take the time to focus on driving in traffic-- so I cause an accident
- Cause someone else to have to put off shopping for Christmas presents
- Lose my patience with the people I work with
- Rush around manically, trying to get everything done--putting too much on my already full plate
- Forget that this season is really supposed to be about being good to my fellow brother/sister
- Increase feelings of tension, resentment, and cast lots of negative energy into the world
P.S. I recommend doing your Christmas shopping online. It totally saves time and prevents you from having to be around rude people.
Monday, December 11, 2006
Center-left.
The latest Congressional election shows us what happens when the Reagan Democrats, like my father, for example, return home and vote Blue.
No matter how far we extend the big tent, we're bound to leave people out. Third-party leaning people have long felt disenfranchised and disaffected within the confines of the two party system.
I think part of the problem is that the founding fathers, in a spirit of ostentatious over-optimism, scorned parties altogether. However, no sooner than you could say CONSTITUTION, we had two of them.
I support a multi-party system along the same lines the British House of Commons.
I think the Reagan Democrats, Libertarian, Greens, and almost-socialists like yours truly would feel more at home. Plus, it would force people to build much broader coalitions to pass legislation.
No matter how far we extend the big tent, we're bound to leave people out. Third-party leaning people have long felt disenfranchised and disaffected within the confines of the two party system.
I think part of the problem is that the founding fathers, in a spirit of ostentatious over-optimism, scorned parties altogether. However, no sooner than you could say CONSTITUTION, we had two of them.
I support a multi-party system along the same lines the British House of Commons.
I think the Reagan Democrats, Libertarian, Greens, and almost-socialists like yours truly would feel more at home. Plus, it would force people to build much broader coalitions to pass legislation.
Saturday, December 09, 2006
Taking Time to Smell the Roses
Dear Readership:
So long as there are human beings, there will always be problems.
Part of human nature is seeking to reform.
However, perceiving the problems of the world as one set of pitched skirmishes yet to be fought can be a tad overwhelming after a time. And all of you introverts out there know how overwhelming it is to be overstimulated by the world around you.
So instead, I denote today ART AND CHAOS DAY! (I stole the name from Blue Gal, yes).
This is an original work of my good friend Camilla Taylor who is a brilliant artist.
Visit her shop. Buy stuff!
HorsePressFlesh
-Jason copywrite 2005, Camilla Taylor.
Thursday, December 07, 2006
The Proper Exit Strategy
These words may sound a little familiar.
With malice toward none, with charity for all, with firmness in the right as God gives us to see the right, let us strive on to finish the work we are in, to bind up the nation's wounds, to care for him who shall have borne the battle and for his widow and his orphan, to do all which may achieve and cherish a just and lasting peace among ourselves and with all nations.
-Abraham Lincoln, 1865.
With malice toward none, with charity for all, with firmness in the right as God gives us to see the right, let us strive on to finish the work we are in, to bind up the nation's wounds, to care for him who shall have borne the battle and for his widow and his orphan, to do all which may achieve and cherish a just and lasting peace among ourselves and with all nations.
-Abraham Lincoln, 1865.
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
Addendum to Last Post
My liberuul friends, lest you feel compelled to channel your inner African...there is more to this story.
The African-American community has its own set of problems.
There is no real perfection.
Each community has its own problems.
Unlike the white community, the Black community can be a very homophobic place.
At my current workplace, I recognize how many males are living lies. I recognize how many males are in relationships with women. They have children.
But they are not heterosexual, and deep down inside, they know it.
The African-American community has its own set of problems.
There is no real perfection.
Each community has its own problems.
Unlike the white community, the Black community can be a very homophobic place.
At my current workplace, I recognize how many males are living lies. I recognize how many males are in relationships with women. They have children.
But they are not heterosexual, and deep down inside, they know it.
Tuesday, December 05, 2006
Understanding, not toleration
My current workplace environment is 90% minority.
I am one of four white males.
I'll be honest with you. When I started working here, I had the same thought that many other white people have in similar situations.
I bet they hate Whitey. I bet they resent me being there. I bet they will be militant and angry and and and...
No.
It wasn't that way at all. I stand corrected.
In all honesty, I like black people much better than I like lots of white people. White people are so uptight. We are type A to the max. Black people let it all hang out and don't worry about it. Instead of obsessing about this or that, they live in the moment. Instead of being anal-retentive and micromanaging the future, they are content to live in the present.
I had a friend of color as we say in white liberal circles who asked me point-blank once: Kevin, why do white people kill themselves?
Damned good question.
The problem is that we have built all of these walls around ourselves. Black people weren't angry at me. Black people didn't automatically assume much of anything about me, except for the fact that I wouldn't understand them because I was not black myself.
We speak different languages. They have their language, and we ours. If we really wanted to change things for the better we would learn to be bilingual. And then language would cease to exist. It just wouldn't matter anymore.
Ignorance stems from a lack of understanding. Ignorance stands from prejudice.
Prejudice. Pre-judge.
I am pre-judging you before I know you.
I'll tell you another story.
I was talking to a woman on the phone from a prominent southern state.
The call was going so well until the very end. She said,
You sound like a nice guy. I'm so glad you're not a Mexican.
I mean, don't get me wrong. They work hard. But they come over here and drive up our taxes and and and...
Naturally, being that I must be friendly and courteous with all customers I was not allowed to tell this woman what I really thought about her.
But I understand where she's coming from. She's afraid of change. People fear change, particularly as they get older. Change means adjustment. Change is uncomfortable.
But without change, we will make no progress.
Without understanding, we will have only tolerance.
I am one of four white males.
I'll be honest with you. When I started working here, I had the same thought that many other white people have in similar situations.
I bet they hate Whitey. I bet they resent me being there. I bet they will be militant and angry and and and...
No.
It wasn't that way at all. I stand corrected.
In all honesty, I like black people much better than I like lots of white people. White people are so uptight. We are type A to the max. Black people let it all hang out and don't worry about it. Instead of obsessing about this or that, they live in the moment. Instead of being anal-retentive and micromanaging the future, they are content to live in the present.
I had a friend of color as we say in white liberal circles who asked me point-blank once: Kevin, why do white people kill themselves?
Damned good question.
The problem is that we have built all of these walls around ourselves. Black people weren't angry at me. Black people didn't automatically assume much of anything about me, except for the fact that I wouldn't understand them because I was not black myself.
We speak different languages. They have their language, and we ours. If we really wanted to change things for the better we would learn to be bilingual. And then language would cease to exist. It just wouldn't matter anymore.
Ignorance stems from a lack of understanding. Ignorance stands from prejudice.
Prejudice. Pre-judge.
I am pre-judging you before I know you.
I'll tell you another story.
I was talking to a woman on the phone from a prominent southern state.
The call was going so well until the very end. She said,
You sound like a nice guy. I'm so glad you're not a Mexican.
I mean, don't get me wrong. They work hard. But they come over here and drive up our taxes and and and...
Naturally, being that I must be friendly and courteous with all customers I was not allowed to tell this woman what I really thought about her.
But I understand where she's coming from. She's afraid of change. People fear change, particularly as they get older. Change means adjustment. Change is uncomfortable.
But without change, we will make no progress.
Without understanding, we will have only tolerance.
Monday, December 04, 2006
I am a bad, bad, blogger
Dear Readership:
I am so sorry I have not blogged in several days.
I've been too fucking busy, and vice versa.
*giggles*
I am so sorry I have not blogged in several days.
I've been too fucking busy, and vice versa.
*giggles*
Friday, December 01, 2006
History Repeats Itself
Dear readers,
I apologize for not blogging yesterday. I had an AMAZING day yesterday, which I will blog about in some detail later. No time right now, though. I've got to clock in to go to work in twenty minutes.
My father sometimes redeems himself. He was at first a supporter of this quagmire we have in Iraq, but around six months ago he said to me: This is such a mistake. This is going to turn out like Vietnam.
I said, Didn't they remember the lessons of Vietnam?
He said, Remember what I've always told you.
Everything hinges on
1. Money
2. Greed
3. Sex
4. Power
These four things drive human nature and drive humans to acts of madness.
I've never forgotten.
May we never have another Iraq/Vietnam quagmire.
Amen.
I apologize for not blogging yesterday. I had an AMAZING day yesterday, which I will blog about in some detail later. No time right now, though. I've got to clock in to go to work in twenty minutes.
My father sometimes redeems himself. He was at first a supporter of this quagmire we have in Iraq, but around six months ago he said to me: This is such a mistake. This is going to turn out like Vietnam.
I said, Didn't they remember the lessons of Vietnam?
He said, Remember what I've always told you.
Everything hinges on
1. Money
2. Greed
3. Sex
4. Power
These four things drive human nature and drive humans to acts of madness.
I've never forgotten.
May we never have another Iraq/Vietnam quagmire.
Amen.
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