OUTRAGE

When was that Selma Alabama memorial march thing?  Some day last week?  How fucking adorably ironic.  Martin Luther King is spinning in his grave.

I am through. I will never ever again proselytize about accepting people for their own self worth or recognize effort and ability without prejudice or distinction. This is the straw that broke my less than perfect back.


- BizPac Review http://ow.ly/K4prT




Hey.  Guess what?  If you didn't notice yet, I have no struggle at all having conversations with people who don't "look like me".   Doesn't that sound more like this prick has a personal problem instead of a RACIAL problem?  But then, there is that BLAME thing going on.

 This is the high school my daughter and I graduated from. When I was there, there was one black student. Her name was Faith Julian. She was Dr. Percy Julian's (google) daughter. They burned a cross on his lawn when he moved into Oak Park, Illinois. That town contains a larger concentration of sanctimonious dickheads than any  other city in the world. My dad was a cop there. I moved back when I got married. The mayor was corrupt. He was paying his extramarital sweetie over a million dollars a year as a computer consultant. I am getting ahead of myself.

Faith Julian was a sweet, friendly, unpretentious girl despite being ungodly wealthy. She would walk into one of the school's enormous, thronged girl's bathrooms and a hush would fall. I was a senior when she started there.  She was a year or two behind. As far as I recall I am the only person who ever spoke to her in a social situation at that time. But everyone knew it would be me. I would talk to anyone.

When I went to St. Mel's grammar school, there was one black girl. Her name was Hazel. Her parents were rich. We could tell by her coat. It was an Irish neighborhood where most of our coats had too short sleeves and were threadbare hand-me-downs.  Hers was tan with a brown velvet collar and a fucking matching hat.

We walked into Madigan's department store and my two and a half year old brother saw his first black person. I will never forget the look on his face. My mom had to explain his reaction to me.

I would  love to tell you the story about why all the parks in my subdivision  have been remodeled in the last ten years and there is no longer a basketball hoop to be found. (I now live way North of Oak Park. When I moved out fifteen years ago, my real estate taxes were over $8,000 for a forty two foot lot.)

On the stairwell at my high school there was a huge picture of some guy named McDaniel who founded the school. I said he was my great grandpa. Maybe he was. I hope that picture was taken down before thugs covered it with obscene graffiti.

Oh.  Here is another ironic aside.  In Baton Rouge, Louisiana, there is an old plantation that is kept as a historical site for tourists and stuff. It is called The McDaniel Plantation.

In college, I went to visit my then boyfriend in Spring Hill, Alabama.  The Airport was weathered in so we had to take a bus from New Orleans to Mobile.  I saw a drinking fountain that had a sign Colored Only.  Not a photo.  Not a reproduction.  A flaking, old, white enamel sign above a drinking fountain.

Why does not someone talk to this current school principal, who is principal for the same stupid reason Barack Obama is president, and mention casually, with maybe a sixteen pound sledge hammer, that he is promoting and fueling racial divisiveness?  Why are we so FUCKING scared to speak up? Why do we give stupid assholes like Al Sharpton air time and print inches?

I am through with tolerance. I sneer at it. It is all about me now. Me and MY affinity group.

Son of a BITCH. This is SOOO fucking outrageous. I cannot believe it happened. I cannot believe it was allowed. If I was a 99 pound sophomore and he barred me from MY auditorium in MY school, I would have kicked the mother fucker in the balls. Or do "they" not have any?

Unfollow me. I don't fucking care.

Actually, I only EVER pretended to care.


Photo attribution:   Idon'tgiveaflyingfuck.org.

Tolerance

I know there is a larger hue and cry about discrimination of any kind. There are web sites that actually have to say,  "Hey.  There are still nice guys in the world."  There are waaay too many (in my female opinion) websites supporting feminism, a particular thorn in my side. And there is the subject of race, and/or skin color,  a subject I apparently look at differently than the rest of the world. (See upcoming story about giraffes.)

I am old. I am also a grand daughter of immigrants. I also belong to a group of people with a physical characteristic that has been the butt of jokes, teasing, bullying and other forms of discriminatory behavior.  I have put up with this since I first realized it was going on when I was four. I, for some genetically informed sense of self-worth, have always attributed that to envy.

I am a person who has seen, actually, not photographs of, but actual water fountains that have signs saying, "Colored only". How many people do you think are left that can give witness to that? So, I feel like I know the lay of the land. This has always gone on. Packs of animals or a mother of a single animal, ostracize or often kill, or in some way reject one born out of the norm. Recent news stories show that humans also do this.

The thing that is different, besides there being massively greater numbers of humans to report on, is tolerance.  There is none.  And the lack of tolerance is more malignant than the discrimination. Somebody somewhere is suing because they believe their daughter did not make the cheer leading squad because she has brown hair and there are already too many brown hairs and not enough blondes. Don't worry about the redheads. There is always the "token" redhead.

If something doesn't go according to plan, for instance you get shot and maimed during a robbery attempt, the first reaction is to sue.  They should have posted they do not welcome robbers.  They should have posted they were armed against intruders.  To carry it to a ridiculous point, I am suing because my line of work, robbing, thieving, stealing, etc. is my only legitimate way to support myself because of my abusive childhood, etc. and no one will allow me to freely practice my chosen trade. 

When there were fewer people, maybe it was easier to tolerate differences.  But I think that the practice of intolerance grows and reaps so many benefits, successful lawsuits, special accommodation, free telephones, etc., that it is epidemic. People see and hear of the results of the positive  reactions to intolerance that they look for personal flags to carry.  You are doing that just because I am this.

I have unsubscribed from four news services feeds on facebook this week because I can't let anything roll by without putting my two cents in and it was getting the best of me.  But I have commented over and over, "Why do you need this bandwagon to follow behind you and support you?"  "Why can you not just be proud of yourself and what you have accomplished, (despite the fact that you are tall or short or skinny or fat, or feminine or masculine, or spotted or striped) and realize that you did such a good job because you could and you wanted to and you made yourself or let yourself do it?"  That it doesn't  matter whether the black or yellow or red or pink people gave you encouragement. You did a fine job.  You did the very best you could.  Stop looking for someone to blame.  Stop looking for excuses for your shortfalls. Then you won't even notice whether no other purple person is allowed to do that because they are purple. Because all the purple people are busy doing their very best. For themselves.

Photo attribution:  galleryhip.com