Race

  • We went to see a parade in Barrington today for the 4th. This already feels like it's going to sound like a play-by-play and disjointed but oh well.

    Towards the end, there was this girl handing out BBQ pulled-pork (I think? Can't remember) samples for a restaurant in the downtown. It was pretty good so, for lunch, we all decided to go down there.

    I still don't remember if I was simply caught off guard (we happened to notice the girl who gave us the samples behind the counter when we arrived) or if there really was just something there but I was rather thoroughly struck by…I dunno, how open and friendly the other girl behind the counter seemed.

    I don't know whether I've necessarily ever discussed here (or anywhere, for that matter) why I always keep such a buoyant outward mood to the point of (I feel like it sometimes becomes) being exaggerative (I was going to also say hyperbolic but I think, given the definition of hyperbole, I would actually be okay with it being hyperbolic; it fits the bill). Yes, sure, there's the old I-have-depression-and-don't-want-to-drag-you-down-with-me but you don't have to even necessarily be outwardly happy to do that. Being anti-social and not talking to people could accomplish that one.

    It's that, one, I legitimately just want to get along with everyone and like being nice to people. I know it doesn't fit the motif of being mysterious or withdrawn or stoic for masculinity but I just feel happier being open with people. I want to be friendly.

    But it's also that people just seem to tend to be…unfriendly. And for seemingly no good damn reason. My brother and I were discussing race and I mentioned that, up North, I really don't seem to find that awkwardness that I've heard other people mention. He responded that he feels that all the time. Now, this is the kid who has diamond earrings and had an afro that is now dreadlocks; he's not exactly ducking into traditional white social mores in regards to his appearance. And I'm not saying that getting poor responses to his physical dress is not a problem; far be it for me to ever do that. Nor am I saying that the North is devoid of racism (one of the points of credit that the movie Premium Rush – about bike messengers in NYC – received was that it was one of the few Hollywood movies to depict the racial diversity of NYC more accurately to what NYC is actually like; to be fair, you'd never be able to levy such a complaint, ever, about Chicago and there's no way that that's an accident). And it's not like there weren't people in high school who found fit to define me by my race first (generally joking and friends I was close with so I generally didn't mind but, still, there was a slight trend which just highlighted further the fact that I probably knew a grand total of five other black students only once I got to my Senior year). And, certainly, being followed around in a convenience store is not the same as the number of racial jokes rising the moment I enter the group which is also not the same as people giving my brother dirty stares because of his hair style (which may just be because they're unfamiliar with the hair style and find it unkempt, etc.); those are all very different, complex situations.

    But I find, even for generally straight-laced me, that people are continually just bizarrely rude. Or awkward (without, to me, reason to be but I can make a pretty mean awkward situation in my own right so I probably shouldn't hold anyone to task for that one). Despite my being overly friendly, people don't precipitate. And maybe it is a race thing; I dunno, maybe my brother's right. Regardless, people aren't friendly because they're generally stupid and so I just smile and be friendly and ask questions or make jokes and I don't give a damn whether you laugh or respond or shit.

    But it also means I'm all the more happy and thankful when I find someone who actively tries to be friendly to others as well. I like friendliness. It's in low supply and helps the world go round.

    In any case, my brother and I have gotten into the habit of, after running into a girl somewhere, questioning whether she was actively flirting with either of us. I think it's partially from irony given the fact that I generally assume not and tend to be the shy one of the group (the conversation usually goes with me saying, "Naw…" while my brother, and maybe a third party, going, "Ohh, yeah, it was definitely obvious!") but also just to be ridiculous. After all, friendliness certainly does not necessarily flirtation mean.

    You can imagine how the conversation throughout lunch might go. This isn't helped by the fact that the girl stops over at our table to pet my sister's dog (though, to be fair, the girl came back later to ask if she could take a picture of Shiver to show her mom since she used to have a dog of the exact same breed; I may be bad at flirting but I'm pretty sure you use the dog to start the conversation and then direct your attention to whomever you're interested in flirting with).

    Of course, my mother doesn't seem to exist for any other reason than to try to play matchmaker for all her children at every second of every day. And, being my mother, the reason she uses is that "She's pretty."

    I actually would have said gorgeous but that's neither here nor there (I almost want to describe her but I can't really without beginning to strongly feel like I'm objectifying so I won't; the point for doing so is that, while not greatly, I think she fell outside, somewhat, "mainstream" beauty standards. Part of my own drawing, I imagine, and also why my mother described her as pretty while I'm using much stronger language).

    But as I'm mulling these thoughts over…what real defense do I have to ask this girl out? I mean, I'm in an unfortunate place emotionally while trying to get my life together. I'm still not done with my hermit-ing to heal myself for the future that may lose me near to all my friends come the end (there's only so long any person should have to endure the isolation of another). That's not a wise position to start anything with anyone, really.

    But, even beyond that…she seems really friendly and she likes dogs (something which is very wonderful in any person; pets can potentially tell you quite a bit about a person). And that's it. Well, she also works at this restaurant which potentially looks family owned. Which is interesting but doesn't necessarily mean anything. And when you compare that to the many more things that entail any form of a relationship, those few things are downright minimal. Certainly nothing that can justifying trying to start a relationship given the position I'm in with my life.

    And, most of the time I was there, I found myself drawn to her…but on what basis? Even I couldn't really answer you that beyond that I found her pretty. And while I've played with the notion of how people look playing into who they are as a person, I more often find that that area is so phenomenally complex that you generally can't glean anything from there without knowing more about the person to start connecting dots (if physical appearance beyond how a person dresses/styles themselves can tell you anything at all). Even I tried, all I could really boil it down to is a hunch: she seemed interesting. Maybe she would be; I wouldn't know.

    But it just overwhelmingly confronted me with the fact that, as a system, physical attractiveness still completely and utterly eludes any logical attempts to justify itself. Certainly to fit into just about any merit-based system that we, as humans, have ever devised (which, really, are just about the only systems I'm interested in using).

    I think that I can honestly say that this, more than anything, is what makes me question the notion of a God that created an ordered and logical universe. The more I think about it, the more that it being just a byproduct of evolution and pure chance that worked seems to be the only answer that rightly explains its existence.

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    The Weekly Sift

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    A Short History of White Racism in the Two-Party System
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    If you’ve seen the Lincoln movie, maybe you’re still walking around with this bit of cognitive dissonance[….]

    The story is doubly worth telling because Republicans like Ann Coulter and Jonah Goldberg have been misrepresenting it so grossly.

    A good place to start is the presidential election of 1860, which brings Lincoln to power and convinces Southern whites (the only people who can vote in the South in 1860) that secession is their best chance to maintain slavery*.

    Lincoln gets only 40% of the vote, but in a four-way race (the Democratic Convention split over whether the platform should endorse the Supreme Court’s Dred Scott decision) that’s enough to win. In terms of the popular vote, his closest competition is Illinois Democrat Stephen Douglas (30%), but in electoral votes another Democrat, sitting Vice President John Breckenridge of Kentucky, finishes second with 72 EVs to Lincoln’s 180.

    Douglas fails because he is a national candidate representing continued compromise over slavery, while Breckenridge and Lincoln are sectional candidates with clear pro- and anti-slavery positions. So Douglas gets 15% in Alabama (to Lincoln’s 0%) and 43% in Wisconsin (to Breckenridge’s 0.5%), but only manages to carry Missouri and New Jersey, giving him 12 EVs and fourth place behind John Bell’s 39.

    During Reconstruction, Southern whites still blame Lincoln’s party for their humiliation in “the War of Northern Aggression“, but the new black vote makes Southern Republicans competitive — particularly in South Carolina, where blacks have long outnumbered whites. So the 1876 map looks like this:

    1876 electoral map

    But by 1896 the Jim Crow laws have disenfranchised Southern blacks, and Southern whites still remember how Lincoln destroyed their society, so Southern Republicans go extinct. Mississippi, for example, gives Democrat William Jennings Bryan a 91% majority. The 1896 map is almost a negative of the 2012 map — Democratic in the South and Mountain West, Republican in the Northeast, Midwest, and Far West.

    1896 electoral map

    1896 electoral map

    2012 electoral map

    2012 electoral map

    The “solid South” stays Democratic through 1944, when FDR carries Mississippi with 94% of the vote.

    1944 electoral map

    So until 1944, there is no doubt that the Democrats are the party of Jim Crow. National figures like FDR may not be actively racist — and blacks benefit from the general anti-poverty provisions of the New Deal — but Democrats are not going to rock the boat of Southern white supremacy. Republicans, on the other hand, have nothing to defend in the old Confederacy, so it costs them nothing to champion civil rights. Their 1944 platform does them credit:

    Racial and Religious Intolerance

    We unreservedly condemn the injection into American life of appeals to racial or religious prejudice.

    We pledge an immediate Congressional inquiry to ascertain the extent to which mistreatment, segregation and discrimination against Negroes who are in our armed forces are impairing morale and efficiency, and the adoption of corrective legislation.

    We pledge the establishment by Federal legislation of a permanent Fair Employment Practice Commission.

    Anti-Poll Tax

    The payment of any poll tax should not be a condition of voting in Federal elections and we favor immediate submission of a Constitutional amendment for its abolition.

    Anti-Lynching

    We favor legislation against lynching and pledge our sincere efforts in behalf of its early enactment.

    But outside the South, Democrats are also changing. In 1941 Roosevelt bans racial discrimination in defense industries.

    At the 1948 Democratic Convention, a young Hubert Humphrey leads a Northern liberal bloc that adds this Civil Rights plank to the platform:

    We again state our belief that racial and religious minorities must have the right to live, the right to work, the right to vote, the full and equal protection of the laws, on a basis of equality with all citizens as guaranteed by the Constitution.

    We highly commend President Harry S. Truman for his courageous stand on the issue of civil rights.

    We call upon the Congress to support our President in guaranteeing these basic and fundamental American Principles:

    (1) the right of full and equal political participation;
    (2) the right to equal opportunity of employment;
    (3) the right of security of person;
    (4) and the right of equal treatment in the service and defense of our nation.

    Southern delegates respond by walking out of the convention and establishing the States’ Rights Democratic Party, a.k.a. the Dixiecrats, who nominate South Carolina’s Democratic Governor Strom Thurmond for president and endorse “the segregation of the races and the racial integrity of each race”. In spite of later efforts to sugarcoat his memory, Thurmond is a racist running an openly racist campaign. He tells one rally:

    There’s not enough troops in the army to force the Southern people to break down segregation and admit the nigger** race into our theaters, into our swimming pools, into our homes, and into our churches.

    After the Dixiecrat walkout, President Truman decides the die is cast and desegregates the military.

    The 1948 electoral map looks like this:

    1948 electoral map

    So Democrats and Dixiecrats split the South, with still no Southern Republicans worth mentioning. Tom Dewey gets only 3% of the vote in Mississippi and 4% in South Carolina.

    1948-1980 is a transitional period. On the state level, the South is still solidly Democratic. Republicans often don’t even bother to field candidates, as in Alabama in 1962, where George Wallace wins the governor’s race with 96% of the vote. (Wallace previously ran in 1958 with the endorsement of the NAACP and without support from the KKK. After losing the Democratic primary to a more openly racist candidate, he said, “I was out-niggered by John Patterson. And I’ll tell you here and now, I will never be out-niggered again.”)

    The great civil rights face-offs of the 50s and 60s are between Southern Democratic governors and presidents of either party. In 1957, Republican President Dwight Eisenhower sends troops to Little Rock when Democratic Governor Orval Faubus refuses to integrate Central High School. But Democratic President John Kennedy does exactly the same thing in 1962 when Democratic Governor Ross Barnett refuses to integrate the University of Mississippi, and in 1963 when Governor Wallace refuses to integrate the University of Alabama.

    With Eisenhower’s invasion of Little Rock still rankling, 1960 is the second-to-last hurrah of the Democratic South. Putting Texan Lyndon Johnson on the ticket holds most of the South for Kennedy, but the Democrats’ hold is slipping: 15 Southern electoral votes go to Virginia Senator Harry Byrd, and Nixon is competitive in places Republicans never were before; he gets 49% in South Carolina, far more than Dewey’s 4% just three elections ago.

    1960 electoral map

    After JFK’s assassination, Johnson pushes the Civil Rights Act of 1964 through Congress with bipartisan support. 18 Southern Democrats and one Republican filibuster in the Senate — a rare occurrence in those days — but the bill ultimately passes with 46 Democratic votes and 27 Republicans. As he signs the bill, Johnson comments, “We have lost the South for a generation.

    But will the Republicans pick the South up, or will spurned Dixiecrats be a regional party whose support no one wants? Through the 60s, moderate Republicans like Nelson Rockefeller and George Romney push to uphold the Lincoln-Dewey-Eisenhower civil-rights tradition and compete for black votes. But they lose. The 1964 Republican nominee against Johnson is Barry Goldwater, one of the few non-Southern senators who voted against the Civil Right Act.

    Goldwater marks the beginning of I’m-not-a-racist-but Republicanism. His stated reasons for opposing the Civil Right bill have nothing to do with race. (He thought it was unconstitutional.) And the 1964 Republican platform stands by the Party’s pro-civil-rights record:

    [W]e pledge: …

    —full implementation and faithful execution of the Civil Rights Act of 1964, and all other civil rights statutes, to assure equal rights and opportunities guaranteed by the Constitution to every citizen;

    —improvements of civil rights statutes adequate to changing needs of our times;

    —such additional administrative or legislative actions as may be required to end the denial, for whatever unlawful reason, of the right to vote;

    —immigration legislation seeking to re-unite families and continuation of the “Fair Share” Refugee Program;

    —continued opposition to discrimination based on race, creed, national origin or sex. We recognize that the elimination of any such discrimination is a matter of heart, conscience, and education, as well as of equal rights under law.

    But it also gives white racists reason to hope.

    [The Johnson] Administration has failed to apply Republican-initiated retraining programs where most needed particularly where they could afford new economic opportunities to Negro citizens. It has preferred, instead, divisive political proposals.

    i.e. the Civil Rights Act and what becomes the Voting Rights Act of 1965. The platform also denounces ”inverse discrimination” and “the abandonment of neighborhood schools, for reasons of race”. So Goldwater is against a public school saying “no niggers”, but if a neighborhood (just by pure chance, of course) happens to be all-white, its all-white school is just fine. His party also pledges

    to open avenues of peaceful progress in solving racial controversies while discouraging lawlessness and violence.

    Note the change: Dewey was worried about lynchings — white-on-black violence. In 1964 lynching are still happening, the Watts riots are still in the future, and Martin Luther King’s campaign of non-violent civil disobedience is being met with murders like the infamous Mississippi Burning case. But Goldwater’s platform lumps civil disobedience (“lawlessness”) together with “violence”, and pledges to “discourage” it.

    So if you’re a Southern white supremacist who worries about civil rights agitators stirring up trouble in your town, Goldwater is your guy, just like he’s Strom Thurmond’s guy. Goldwater carries the South (and his home state of Arizona) as the rest of the country soundly rejects him.

    1964 electoral map

    Re-elected, LBJ passes the Voting Rights Act of 1965, also with bipartisan support. LBJ addresses a joint session of Congress, in a speech that still makes me misty-eyed:

    It is not just Negroes, but really it is all of us, who must overcome the crippling legacy of bigotry and injustice. And we shall overcome.

    Thurmond the Dixiecrat-turned-Republican is the only Republican senator who votes No. Republicans field a candidate for governor in South Carolina in 1966 for the first time since Reconstruction. He loses 58%-42%, but erosion of support for the national Democratic Party is reaching the state level.

    Goldwater’s landslide loss hardly establishes a new normal for Republicans, who still flirt with Rockefeller and Romney before settling on Nixon, whose civil-rights position is fuzzy. While few Dixiecrats are ready to follow Thurmond into the new tribe of Southern Republicans, they also can’t vote for the hated Hubert Humphrey. So in 1968 they give the regional-party thing another try with George Wallace.

    1968 electoral map

    But Nixon understands that Republicans have to pick up what the Democrats have dropped. His “Southern Strategy” (with Thurmond’s endorsement) captures the upper South in 1968, which is his victory margin in a close election. His long-term vision is for Republicans to absorb the Wallace vote into an unbeatable conservative coalition that Nixon strategist Kevin Phillips calls The Emerging Republican Majority.

    http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51N4bKDcioL._SL500_AA300_.jpgPhillips writes:

    The more Negroes who register as Democrats in the South, the sooner the Negrophobe whites will quit the Democrats and become Republicans. That’s where the votes are. Without that prodding from the blacks, the whites will backslide into their old comfortable arrangement with the local Democrats.

    The Nixon re-election landslide of 1972 sweeps the South, but it’s hard to read much into that, since he takes every state but Massachusetts, and Georgia’s Jimmy Carter manages to pull the Democratic South together one last time in 1976.

    But 1980 is the re-alignment election that has been brewing since 1964.

    Ronald Reagan’s first speech as the Republican nominee is in the symbolic location of Neshoba County, Mississippi, site of the Mississippi Burning murders of 1964. So: symbolic time, symbolic place — what’s he say? Nothing about race at all. Just this:

    I believe in state’s rights; I believe in people doing as much as they can for themselves at the community level and at the private level. And I believe that we’ve distorted the balance of our government today by giving powers that were never intended in the constitution to that federal establishment. And if I do get the job I’m looking for, I’m going to devote myself to trying to reorder those priorities and to restore to the states and local communities those functions which properly belong there.

    States rights, local control — just what Orval Faubus and Ross Barnett and George Wallace wanted when they refused to enforce federal court orders to integrate their schools. Just what Eisenhower and Kennedy didn’t allow when they sent federal troops.

    It’s the beginning of the dog-whistle era. After the election, Reagan strategist Lee Atwater lays it out:

    You start out in 1954 by saying, “Nigger, nigger, nigger.” By 1968 you can’t say “nigger”—that hurts you, backfires. So you say stuff like, uh, “forced busing”, “states’ rights”, and all that stuff, and you’re getting so abstract. Now, you’re talking about cutting taxes, and all these things you’re talking about are totally economic things and a byproduct of them is, blacks get hurt worse than whites.… “We want to cut this,” is much more abstract than even the busing thing, uh, and a hell of a lot more abstract than “Nigger, nigger.”

    So Reagan isn’t trying to “out-nigger” anybody, because people up North will hear him and think he’s evil. He’ll just say “states rights” — like Strom Thurmond and Jefferson Davis before him — and hope “Negrophobe whites” get the message that they are welcome in his coalition.

    They get the message.

    1980 electoral map

    They get it not just nationally, but on the state level. Alabama and Georgia elect Republican senators for the first time since Reconstruction.

    In case anybody has forgotten that message by 1988, George H. W. Bush reminds them: If you vote for Democrats, Willie Horton will rape your wife.

    Locally, the transition from the “old comfortable arrangement” is gradual. Most Dixiecrat/Democrat politicians don’t follow Strom Thurmond’s path to the Republican Party, though during the 70s and 80s they often combine with Republicans in Congress to form the conservative majority Phillips predicted. But as they retire, they are replaced by Republicans like Trent Lott and Newt Gingrich. (Lott, interestingly, was endorsed for Congress by his retiring Democratic predecessor.)

    The chart on the right shows a generational turnover, not a walk-out. Southern Democrats in Congress today tend to be blacks representing majority-black districts, like South Carolina’s Jim Clyburn.

    Today, the old white Confederacy is solidly Republican. Nationally, Romney had a clear majority of white voters: 59%. But in Mississippi, a whopping 89% of whites voted for Romney.

    How did he lock up the Mississippi white vote? Not by saying “nigger, nigger”. Republicans never did that, because they didn’t exist in Mississippi when that was a winning strategy. Instead, they are the party of traditional values in a state where “tradition” means the stars-and-bars and Colonel Reb. They are the party of property rights and business in a state where property and business overwhelmingly belong to whites. They are the party of small government in a state where only massive federal intervention gave blacks the right to vote or to attend the state university.

    http://makethemaccountable.com/images/0810/ObamaBucks.jpg

    Republicans don’t have to say “nigger, nigger”. Everybody gets it. They aren’t the Racist Party, but they are the party where white racists are welcome, where “Barack the Magic Negro” is funny, and people email each other photos of Obama with a bone through his nose or put his image on fantasy food stamps with ribs and watermelon. Just as Republicans aren’t anti-Hispanic, they just think police should stop people who look like they might be illegal immigrants. They aren’t even anti-Muslim, they just don’t think freedom of religion includes the right to build a mosque.

    That’s the Party of Lincoln today. And now you know how they got here.


    *A longstanding argument claims that secession was about “state’s rights” and not about slavery. Mostly you’ll hear this from people who have affection for the Confederacy but find slavery embarrassing. Actual Confederates did not suffer this embarrassment, and were very open about why they were seceding. South Carolina’s declaration of secession is clear:

    A geographical line has been drawn across the Union, and all the States north of that line have united in the election of a man to the high office of President of the United States, whose opinions and purposes are hostile to slavery. … On the 4th day of March next, this party will take possession of the Government. It has announced that the South shall be excluded from the common territory, that the judicial tribunals shall be made sectional, and that a war must be waged against slavery until it shall cease throughout the United States.

    We, therefore, the People of South Carolina, by our delegates in Convention assembled, appealing to the Supreme Judge of the world for the rectitude of our intentions, have solemnly declared that the Union heretofore existing between this State and the other States of North America, is dissolved.

    ** When this recording came up in a different context a few months ago, I gave Thurmond the benefit of the doubt, that he might have said “negro” very fast and slurred. You can listen and judge for yourself.

  • An excerpt from a New York Times article, titled Race in the South in the Age of Obama. It covers a black politician, James Field, who is a representative of Cullman, Alabama.

    Versions of Cullman’s old sundown sign hung beside county roads well into the 1970s, and all of them repeated the message that the travel writer Carl Carmer saw when he visited Cullman in the late 1920s: “Nigger Don’t Let the Sun Go Down on You in This Town.” The sign was notorious all over Alabama, and coupled with Cullman’s powerful Ku Klux Klan, it created a racial deterrent so effective that even today, Cullman’s are exits off the Interstate that most African-Americans avoid.

    You can find the full article here: http://www.nytimes.com/2010/02/28/magazine/28Alabama-t.html?pagewanted=all&_r=0.

     

     

    Once, when I visited Peek’s shop alone, Peek told me: “James is not like any black man that I know. He’s just different. He just don’t have that mentality, anybody owes him anything. He just gets out and works and helps people, earns what he gets. If James wasn’t black, you’d think he was white. That doesn’t sound right, but you know what I mean.”

    Everybody in Cullman knows what he means, perhaps most especially the men who gather weekday mornings at a round table at the All Steak restaurant, where many of them spent much of this past year not getting over the fact of an African-American president. The group fortified themselves with daily doses of rue — “Thought I’d never see it”— dared one another to use “the N-word” in front of a Yankee and shared memories of how Cullman used to be — “They were afraid to come to town.” One day in September, a retired Alabama state trooper named Charlie Shafer leaned back from his eggs and asked, “Have you all ever stopped to consider how much better off the country would be if Obama’d been. . . . ” Quick and fast came the replies:

    “White.”

    “Died in childbirth.”

    Periodically, Fields’s name came up, and people leapt to describe what “a hard-working, down-to-earth person” he is. It was recurrent. Harsh expressions of disdain for blacks in general would smoothly give way to admiration for the black individual in their midst. The dichotomy was expressed in a particularly blunt way by a jeweler named Richard White. “Cullman’s the best-kept secret in the South,” White said. “Low-key. Everybody gets along. And the three-tenths of 1 percent might have something to do with it.” Then, without any kind of transition, he added: “James is a good friend of mine. He’s a good man. He’s straight. He’s honest. He’s well educated.”

    When I asked Rozalyn Love, the medical student, about the daily scene at the All Steak, she said that in Cullman, “there’s almost to some degree pride about being a little bit notorious.” Then she added, “They’re a lot less racist there than some of them would like people to think they are.” This is undoubtedly true; it’s not 1964 anymore. Many older white people from Cullman also believe that attitudes toward race are slowly shifting. “My children have a different view of racial makeup than I had,” says Judge Chaney. “From my father’s generation — extremely prejudiced — to mine — we’re working through it — to my children, race is a nonissue. That’s not to say there still aren’t racial tensions, whether it be black or Hispanic.”

    The owner of a classic-car rebuilding shop, Jerry Burgess, made a similar generational point one day at his garage when he described something he saw in the 1960s and has never forgotten. Burgess is a bootlegger’s son with long, stringy hair under a dirty cap, a ZZ Top beard, an arm sleeved in tattoos and friendly eyes. “I can remember when the sign was on the edge of Cullman, down on Highway 31, close to the tracks,” he told me. “It said ‘Don’t Let the Sun Go Down on a Nigger at Night.’ I can’t hardly say the word. My kids raise Cain about it. A lot of old-timers still use the word. My uncle does. Don’t think a thing about it. He’s a little old-fashioned. To me it seems like a very different time. Now most people would be O.K. with black people.”

    Still, when Cecil Parker, a retired African-American construction worker who grew up near Colony, thinks about race relations in Alabama, he says: “It’s better, but it’s not great. Some know better. Some don’t care. Same people who did all the hanging and burning are still alive. They were taught against us. That we weren’t human. Alabama do not like black folk telling him what to do.”

    That Fields evaluated this situation and sensed he could win an election remains a source of wonder among Alabama political insiders. “Other legislators,” he says, “still ask me, ‘How’d you do that?!’ I look at them, ‘How’d I do what?’ It’s not like I woke up and hoped people would vote for me.” But of course he was aware of what he was up against. The famous phrase that V. O. Key invented to describe the intensely localized, almost tribal nature of Alabamians at the polls is “friends and neighbors” voting. Key’s insight was that Alabama voters prefer political representatives who lived close by, even when the more distant figure might better speak to issues of common concern. A result, according to Morris Dees, the founder of the Southern Poverty Law Center in Montgomery, is that “I haven’t seen a lot of coming together in a shared cause.” Thus, the enduring importance of some feeling of personal connection: of a handshake, of being able to say a candidate embraces my values, if not my plight. In small communities like Cullman, there is an aversion to the intensely mediated sense of experience that the Internet has brought to so much American life — and to American politics. Fierce Southern resistance to political messages of change has a lot to do with belief in the value of immediate encounters and a primary fear of strangers and outsiders — especially black or Northern ones — who may bring harm. “Folks down here kind of like to touch and feel the merchandise” is the way a Cullman banker named Dan W. Mann puts it. So the problem for Fields as a candidate amounted to a fundamental, transformative question about race in the white South: could a black man be considered a friend and a neighbor?

    The candidate who ran against Fields in the special election was Wayne Willingham. The difference between Fields’s devoted life of public service and his opponent’s sparser record was stark. Further, a Cullman relative of Wayne’s, Joe Willingham, is a reputed Klan leader. At some point, Fields says, in the Deep South, the race card “always comes up when there are African-Americans running against whites.” At the campaign’s outset, people told Fields: “James, it’ll be hard to beat him. He’ll bring out the worst in folks.” In recent years, racial and sexual innuendo helped North Carolina’s Jesse Helms and Tennessee’s Bob Corker defeat black Senate opponents, and of course, race-baiting also happens locally. In 1992, Selma’s white incumbent mayor, Joe T. Smitherman, prevailed against his black challenger, James Perkins, in part by renting a room, filling it with rows of elderly white women and just as many telephone lines and instructing the women to make white voters aware of what was at stake. Fields understood that to win he especially would need to neutralize resentments, fears and prejudices by blurring his color into the background where it was subordinate to his character. His life was his case, but his means of expressing it would have to be his personality.

    To explain his thinking about elections, Fields talks about Charlie Shafer. Fields says that Shafer was on active duty in 1965 in Selma, during the seminal civil rights movement demonstration that became known as Bloody Sunday after lawmen carrying clubs and tear gas attacked unarmed protesters. “When they marched to Montgomery from Selma, he was one of the troopers,” Fields says. “But if he lived in my district, I think he’d vote for me. I truly believe that. Because he’s gotten to know me. But then again he may not, and that’s O.K.” Fields’s point was not that he was irresistible, just qualified, and that voting for him didn’t have to be a big deal. The more normal it could be made to seem, the better.

    Normal in Cullman means Christian. Conspicuous displays of faith by politicians are so common that it’s a surprise when one doesn’t have the Ten Commandments posted on his office wall. Accordingly, Fields began his last competition by placing a newspaper advertisement challenging Willingham to “a race that is God-driven and Christ-centered.” This was the only election on the ballot in the state at the time, and a black man running in Cullman was a big deal. Dozens of idealistic volunteers, most of them young and white, joined the campaign. Fields says: “I told the outsiders, ‘Don’t go out in the county. Just work the city.’ Out in the county there are people I grew up with, played ball with. If they went out there, some people would say, ‘Who are you, boy?’ ” Fields himself traveled door to door with his handshake and a message that, he says, boiled down to “vote for me for no other reason than you know and trust me.”

    He continued: “I sat beside you in churches, restaurants, parks, at funerals, on the streets of Cullman, on hospital beds.” There were, he says, no soaring pulpit elocutions: “I don’t say anything profound. Just common, everyday things.”

  • Reblogged from gunsncigarettes:

    I love everything about this photoset

    The lack of condescension in cultural sharing

    The nonsexualization

    The contextual foreignness of firm breasts in a society that doesn’t use bras

  •  

    icon

    The Weekly Sift

    making sense of the news one week at a time

    The Distress of the Privileged
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    In a memorable scene from the 1998 film Pleasantville (in which two 1998 teen-agers are transported into the black-and-white world of a 1950s TV show), the father of the TV-perfect Parker family returns from work and says the magic words “Honey, I’m home!”, expecting them to conjure up a smiling wife, adorable children, and dinner on the table.

    This time, though, it doesn’t work. No wife, no kids, no food. Confused, he repeats the invocation, as if he must have said it wrong. After searching the house, he wanders out into the rain and plaintively questions this strangely malfunctioning Universe: “Where’s my dinner?”

    Privileged distress. I’m not bringing this up just to discuss old movies. As the culture evolves, people who benefitted from the old ways invariably see themselves as victims of change. The world used to fit them like a glove, but it no longer does. Increasingly, they find themselves in unfamiliar situations that feel unfair or even unsafe. Their concerns used to take center stage, but now they must compete with the formerly invisible concerns of others.

    If you are one of the newly-visible others, this all sounds whiny compared to the problems you face every day. It’s tempting to blast through such privileged resistance with anger and insult.

    Tempting, but also, I think, a mistake. The privileged are still privileged enough to foment a counter-revolution, if their frustrated sense of entitlement hardens.

    So I think it’s worthwhile to spend a minute or two looking at the world from George Parker’s point of view: He’s a good 1950s TV father. He never set out to be the bad guy. He never meant to stifle his wife’s humanity or enforce a dull conformity on his kids. Nobody ever asked him whether the world should be black-and-white; it just was.

    George never demanded a privileged role, he just uncritically accepted the role society assigned him and played it to the best of his ability. And now suddenly that society isn’t working for the people he loves, and they’re blaming him.

    It seems so unfair. He doesn’t want anybody to be unhappy. He just wants dinner.

    Levels of distress. But even as we accept the reality of George’s privileged-white-male distress, we need to hold on to the understanding that the less privileged citizens of Pleasantville are distressed in an entirely different way. (Margaret Atwood is supposed to have summed up the gender power-differential like this: “Men are afraid women will laugh at them. Women are afraid men will kill them.”)

    George deserves compassion, but his until-recently-ideal housewife Betty Parker (and the other characters assigned subservient roles) deserves justice. George and Betty’s claims are not equivalent, and if we treat them the same way, we do Betty an injustice.

    Tolerating Dan Cathy. Now let’s look at a more recent case from real life.

    One of the best things to come out of July’s Chick-fil-A brouhaha was a series of posts on the Owldolatrous blog, in which a gay man (Wayne Self) did his best to wrangle the distress of the privileged.

    The privileged in this case are represented by Chick-fil-A president Dan Cathy, who stirred up a hornet’s nest when he denounced the “prideful, arrogant attitude” of those who support same-sex marriage, saying that they “are inviting God’s judgment on our nation”.

    His comments drew attention to the millions that Chick-fil-A’s founding family has contributed to anti-gay organizations, and led to calls for a boycott of their restaurants.

    To which his defenders responded: Is tolerance a one-way street? Cathy was just expressing the genuine beliefs of his faith. As an American, he has freedom of speech and freedom of religion. Why can’t gays and their supporters respect that?

    “Nothing mutual about it.” Self starts his post by acknowledging Cathy’s distress, but refusing to accept it as equivalent to his own. Cathy is suffering because people are saying bad things about him and refusing to buy his sandwiches. Meanwhile, 29 states (including Self’s home state of Louisiana) let employers fire gays for being gay. There are 75 countries Self and his partner can’t safely visit, because homosexuality is illegal and (in some of them) punishable by death.

    The Cathy family has given $5 million to organizations that work to maintain this state of oppression. Self comments:

    This isn’t about mutual tolerance because there’s nothing mutual about it. If we agree to disagree on this issue, you walk away a full member of this society and I don’t. There is no “live and let live” on this issue because Dan Cathy is spending millions to very specifically NOT let me live. I’m not trying to do that to him.

    Christian push-back. That post got over a million page views and (at last count) 1595 comments, including some push-back from conservative Christians. Self’s follow-up responded to one commenter who wrote that he supported Chick-fil-A as

    [a] company with a founder who speaks for what seems to be the minority these days.

    In other words, I specifically feel BASHED by the general media and liberal establishment and gay activists for simply being a Bible-believing Christian. From TV shows, movies, mainstream news and music, so much is Intolerance of my conservative beliefs. I am labeled a HOMOPHOBIC and a HATER. … I neither fear nor hate homosexuals.

    Self brings in a blog post by Bristol Palin, in which she scoffs at an interviewer’s implication that she might refuse to have a gay partner on “Dancing With the Stars”.

    In their simplistic minds, the fact that I’m a Christian, that I believe in God’s plan for marriage, means that I must hate gays and must hate to even be in their presence. Well, they were right about one thing: there was hate in that media room, but the hate was theirs, not mine.

    … To the Left, “tolerance” means agreeing with them on, well, everything. To me, tolerance means learning to live and work with each other when we don’t agree – and won’t ever agree.

    Like Bristol Palin, Self’s commenter sees himself as the victim of bigotry. He isn’t aware of hating anybody. He just wants to preserve the world he grew up in, and can’t be bothered to picture how others suffer in that world.

    He wants dinner.

    Aesop II. Self answers with a story: a sequel to the Aesop fable of the mouse who saves a lion.

    [A story is] the only way I know to address some of these things without resorting to words that hurt or offend, or shut down discussion.

    Aesop’s tale ends with the mouse and the lion as friends, but Self notes that they are still not equal: The Lion is King of the Jungle and the Mouse … is a mouse.

    In Self’s sequel, the Lion hosts the Kingdom Ball, to which mice are never invited, because they disgust many of the larger animals. Nothing personal, the Lion explains to his friend, it’s just the way things are.

    At this point, Self breaks out of the story to explain why (in spite of the fact that his commenter feels “BASHED by the general media and liberal establishment”) he is casting conservative Christians as the Lion and gays as the Mouse: It is not illegal to be a Christian in any state. You can’t be fired for Christianity. Christians may feel bashed by criticism, but gays get literally bashed by hate crimes. Christians may feel like people are trying to silence them, but the Tennessee legislature debated a bill making it illegal to say the word gay in public schools. (The senate passed it.)

    There is a vast difference between being told you’re superstitious or old-fashioned and being told you’re an abomination that doesn’t deserve to live. There’s a vast difference between being told you’re acting hateful and being told God hates you.

    I’ve been gay and Christian all my life. Trust me: Christian is easier. It’s not even close.

    Leonine distress. But does the Lion have reason to be annoyed with the Mouse? Of course. The Mouse is making trouble by asking to go where he’s not wanted. The Mouse is “prideful” for expecting the rules to change to suit him. However, Self admits that the Lion probably doesn’t hate or fear the Mouse.

    I don’t think you hate me. I certainly don’t think you’re afraid of me. Neither is Bristol Palin. She probably even has LGBT people she calls friends. She just disagrees with them about whether they should be invited to the party (the party, in this case, being marriage).

    But here’s the problem: the basis of that disagreement is her belief that her relationships are intrinsically better than ours.

    There’s a word for this type of statement: supremacist.

    Ah, now we get to “words that hurt or offend”. Here’s what he means by it:

    Supremacy is the habit of believing or acting as if your life, your love, your culture, your self has more intrinsic worth than those of people who differ from you.

    Self sees a supremacist attitude in the commenter’s

    sense of comfort with yourself as an appropriate judge of my choices, ideas, or behaviors, … unwillingness to appreciate the inherent inequality in a debate where I have to ask you for equality … [and] unwillingness to acknowledge the stake that you have have in your feeling of superiority rather than blame it on God.

    […]Now let’s finish the fable: Uninvited, the Mouse crashes the party. The shocked guests go silent, the Lion is furious, and the ensuing argument leads to violence: The Lion chucks the Mouse out the window, ending both the party and the friendship.

    The lesson: Supremacy itself isn’t hate. You may even have affection for the person you feel superior to. But supremacy contains the seeds of hate.

    Supremacy turns to hate when the feeling of innate superiority is openly challenged. … Supremacy is why you and Bristol Palin have more outrage at your own inconvenience than at the legitimate oppression of others.

    We can talk about the subjugation of women later, honey. Where’s my dinner?

    George Parker’s choices. All his life, George has tried to be a good guy by the lights of his society. But society has changed and he hasn’t, so he isn’t seen as a good guy any more. He feels terrible about that, but what can he do?

    One possibility: Maybe he could learn to be a good guy by the lights of this new society. It would be hard. He’d have to give up some of his privileges. He’d have to examine his habits to see which ones embody assumptions of supremacy. He’d have to learn how to see the world through the eyes of others, rather than just assume that they will play their designated social roles. Early on, he would probably make a lot of mistakes and his former inferiors would correct him. It would be embarrassing.

    But there is an alternative: counter-revolution. George could decide that his habits, his expectations, and the society they fit are RIGHT, and this new society is WRONG. If he joined with the other fathers (and right-thinking mothers like the one in the poster) of Pleasantville, maybe they could force everyone else back into their traditional roles.

    Which choice he makes will depend largely on the other characters. If they aren’t firm in their convictions, the counter-revolution may seem easy. (“There, there, honey. I know you’re upset. But be reasonable.”) But if their resentment is implacable, becoming a good guy in the new world may seem impossible.

    […]Confronting this distress is tricky, because neither acceptance nor rejection is quite right. The distress is usually very real, so rejecting it outright just marks you as closed-minded and unsympathetic. It never works to ask others for empathy without offering it back to them.

    At the same time, my straight-white-male sunburn can’t be allowed to compete on equal terms with your heart attack. To me, it may seem fair to flip a coin for the first available ambulance, but it really isn’t. Don’t try to tell me my burn doesn’t hurt, but don’t consent to the coin-flip.

  • I happened across this image on imgur. Some might remember that I posted an image from the same event a long while ago in another post on here (http://thirst2.xanga.com/716273608/race-sex-sexual-orientation---an-intelligent-assessment-of-controversy/).

    Longstanding tensions between disgruntled African American sanitation workers and Memphis city officials erupted on February 12, 1968 when nearly one thousand workers refused to report to work demanding higher wages, safer working conditions, and recognition of their union, local 1733 of the American Federation of State, County, and Municipal Employees. Despite organizing city-wide boycotts, sit-ins, and daily marches, the city's sanitation workers were initially unable to secure concessions from municipal officials. At the urging of Reverend James T. Lawson, Martin Luther King, Jr. agreed to come to Memphis and lead a nonviolent demonstration in support of the sanitation workers. On March 29 over five thousand demonstrators, carrying signs which read "I Am A Man," participated in King's march. However, the peaceful demonstration took a turn for the worse when an estimated two hundred participants began breaking storefront windows and looting. The ensuing violence resulted in the death of Larry Payne, a sixteen year old African American who was killed by Memphis police officers, the imposition of a city-wide curfew, and the mobilization of nearly four thousand National Guard troops. Deeply troubled by the violent outbreak, King vowed to return to Memphis to lead a peaceful demonstration. On April 3, 1968, nearly two months after the initial start of the strike, King returned to Memphis and delivered what would be his last public speech. The following evening King was assassinated on the second-floor balcony of the Lorraine Motel. In the wake of King's death, President Lyndon B. Johnson sent James Reynolds, undersecretary of labor, to Memphis to help resolve the strike. Nearly two weeks later on April 16, the Memphis sanitation workers' strike ended when the city agreed to issue raises to African American employees and recognize the workers' union.

    There are those who would call the image (or at least the sign) iconic. Reading the comments of imgur, it would seem otherwise.

    They see his beard and know he is a man.

    Who let beardy in line without a sign?

    Epic Beard.

    You say you a man? You a funky man...

    so racist... white people can be men too

    Who brings a sign to a gun fight?

    Talk about irony. The beardy is not a man.

    I think anyone who reads this xanga readily understands that I'm not very fond on the concept of gender-roles; that being said, they existed (stiflingly) in the 50s and the notion of being a man held importance. The phrase "I AM A MAN" here refered not only to the fact that African Americans were human but that they ought to have the same rights that white men had: the ability to work, the right to respect, etc. Literally that White America consistently and systematically emasculated black men.

    The reason the white person does not have a sign, imgur, is because he has all those things already. He is there as an ally and to support.

    While three or so comments seem to understand that this is related to civil rights (not entirely difficult to figure out), none seem to be aware of what this picture is of, specifically. Iconic indeed.

    And, don't get me wrong. I'm generally of the opinion you can make a joke out of almost anything. Some of those comments would be funny with the understanding that everyone knew what the picture was of and respected what it represented. See, this is imgur; this is the photo upload site where, if you upload a picture of the military or something related to Queer rights, everyone goes somber, talking about the need to respect these sacred things.

    Apparently not for race.

    But we know that's not actually it; they're just woefully ignorant of black history – which really isn't their fault. As I was talking about jazz music with my dad, I off-handedly mentioned the Harlem Renaissance – at which point he asked me to explain what that was.

    He had never been taught about it; he had never even heard of it.

  • Full interview between Ayn Rand and Playboy can be found here: http://ellensplace.net/ar_pboy.html.

    PLAYBOY: Couldn't the attempt to rule whim out of life, to act in a totally rational fashion, be viewed as conducive to a juiceless, joyless kind of existence?

    RAND: I truly must say that I don't know what you are talking about. Let's define our terms. Reason is [a person]'s tool of knowledge, the faculty that enables [zem] to perceive the facts of reality. To act rationally means to act in accordance with the facts of reality. Emotions are not tools of cognition. What you feel tells you nothing about the facts; it merely tells you something about your estimate of the facts. Emotions are the result of your value judgments; they are caused by your basic premises, which you may hold consciously or subconsciously, which may be right or wrong. A whim is an emotion whose cause you neither know nor care to discover. Now what does it mean, to act on whim? It means that a [person] acts like a zombi, without any knowledge of what [ze] deals with, what [ze] wants to accomplish, or what motivates [zem]. It means that a [person] acts in a state of temporary insanity. Is this what you call juicy or colorful? I think the only juice that can come out of such a situation is blood. To act against the facts of reality can result only in destruction.

    PLAYBOY: Should one ignore emotions altogether, rule them out of one's life entirely?

    RAND: Of course not. One should merely keep them in their place. An emotion is an automatic response, an automatic effect of [a person]'s value premises. An effect, not a cause. There is no necessary clash, no dichotomy between [a person]'s reason and [zir] emotions -- provided [ze] observes their proper relationship. A rational [person] knows -- or makes it a point to discover -- the source of [zir] emotions, the basic premises from which they come; if [zir] premises are wrong, [ze] corrects them. [Ze] never acts on emotions for which [ze] cannot account, the meaning of which [ze] does not understand. In appraising a situation, [ze] knows why [ze] reacts as [ze] does and whether [ze] is right. [Ze] has no inner conflicts, [zir] mind and [zir] emotions are integrated, [zir] consciousness is in perfect harmony. [Zir] emotions are not [zir] enemies, they are [zir] means of enjoying life. But they are not [zir] guide; the guide is [zir] mind. This relationship cannot be reversed, however. If a [person] takes [zir] emotions as the cause and [zir] mind as their passive effect, if [ze] is guided by [zir] emotions and uses [zir] mind only to rationalize or justify them somehow -- then [ze] is acting immorally, [ze] is condemning [zem]self to misery, failure, defeat, and [ze] will achieve nothing but destruction -- [zir] own and that of others.

    This is probably the only position that I agree in entirety with Ayn Rand on.

    My brother had found the above interview and, upon reading it, handed it off to me (it's nice, in part, to have a sibling still in college, because then the rigorous consumption of intellectualism doesn't have to end just because I'm out of college, though I think it has more to do with his own obsessive intelligence).

    And it's a fascinating read; Ayn Rand certainly is very intelligent (or, at the very least, has a masterful command of communication). And yet (as I expected I would), I find myself disagreeing – in at least complete terms – with most of her.

    The obvious point of contention I'm going to have is with her assessment of literature (which, if I'm to be fully frank, I find rubbish), though I think the reason for this lies in that, while I believe I've said before – and do partially agree with her – that literature ought to (namely, in this case, regarding morality) make an arguable point, I don't think the writer (or the reader) has to necessarily agree with it. I do fall into the camp that believes that, the more ideas we're exposed to, the better we are off and that all thoughts and concepts should be examined in full. And, in particular when it comes to literature, there is importance in the craft of making you feel for, and to understand the motives of, characters you don't agree with.

    But this is mostly an aside, since, at the end of the day, I certainly have no interest in drawing sides based around personal tastes in literature. I disagree with Ayn Rand but would feel no compulsion to dissway her of her opinions, if she had no interest of changing them (and it's completely fair that she would likely find my own thoughts on literature to be rubbish as well).

     

    Rather, the larger points of contention that I have is Rand's conception of the proper use of government:

    PLAYBOY: What, in your view, is the proper function of a government?

    RAND: Basically, there is really only one proper function: the protection of individual rights. Since rights can be violated only by physical force, and by certain derivatives of physical force, the proper function of government is to protect [people] from those who initiate the use of physical force: from those who are criminals. Force, in a free society, may be used only in retaliation and only against those who initiate its use. This is the proper task of government: to serve as a policeman who protects [people] from the use of force.

    To my knowledge, Rand never states the reason for avoiding the use of force against other citizens, but I'm going to make an assumption and assume that it's because the use of force to overpower another is a negation of their freedom.

    The point where we severe agreement is that I would argue that force is not the only power that may negate another's freedom. I'd first bring up (which Rand may or may not agree with me on) that people require, at least from the start, proper education in order to properly assess the world (using her own conceptualization of the world: a person is not born understanding the world; thus, they are emotional. As such, they blunder through the world incapable of learning from it, possibly to never reach the understanding that they must use reason to comprehend it. As such, an education that makes clear to a person the use of reason and logic is necessary to make sane and safe people).

    It is a lack of this necessary education that allows for people to become (and remain mired in) racism. And it is this racism, on a large-scale, that enabled Jim Crow. Of course, one might respond back that this is why we need limited government. To which then I would appeal to the housing crisis during and following the African American Great Migration for the south to the north, during which real estate sellers would purposefully over price tenement- and slum-like conditions to African Americans and ensure that the African Americans could not receive housing in any white neighborhood. This wasn't an instance of legalized racism (which is why the Civil Rights Movement in the 60s failed in their attempt to combat racism in the north); this was individuals making racist choices (so much for "[...]there is no such thing as society. There are individual men and women[...].").

    And those individuals tried to do something about it (again, civil rights movement); the top five most segregated cities in America all maintain a dissimilarity index in the high 70s to this day.

    So, to recap, the fundamental difference I have with Rand on this point is that physical force is not the only force capable of being wielded against individuals. And, as such, I fully and fundamentally believe the government should protect against this.

    But perhaps another flaw is that Rand believes that laissez-faire capitalism works, whereas I (again fundamentally) do not.

    And I think these two points can be, once again, summed up in a fundamental difference in view that I have with Rand: she (as well as libertarians and anarchists), to some degree, believes people can be trusted (this is applicable with the phrase "to some degree" because, even if you think complete freedom enables a constantly vigilant and self-sufficient person to resist those who might attack him, this trusts that those who might find more advantage in overpowering you will be unable to (or that you can outwit them); and, for those who would appeal to others out of those others fearing for their own rights at the hand of the amassing mob, you are trusting that those individuals will be intelligent enough to understand that concept – Nazi Germany would seem to disagree with you).

     

    This was more or less the point that I came to with my cousin when discussing whether she felt the FDA ought to be struck down. She felt it ought to be and that there were alternatives to it through privatized means. Incredulous, I asked how she could trust what was to go into her stomach with privatized forces, to which she pointed out, "There's our difference; I don't distrust people." Does anyone know why your health listing of food says Dietary Fiber rather than just Fiber?

    Because that's the base of it: the market will not respond in what's best for people; the market responds with what's best for the market. If someone can make a profit selling bread with sawdust in it rather than simply selling a quality product, they often will do it. If dolls of Stalin as an adorable humanitarian become popular, the market will mass-produce them in full-force.  Forget the fact that it's glorifying a mass-murder.

    And while there may be an outcry against sawdust bread, there is the requirement that every individual remain vigilant against such things so that they don't happen once again, which may be difficult if you live in a tenement in Chicago and can't leave because people 6 decades ago constructed it as an economic trap to make sure you could never enter their neighborhood.

    The very reason the American government is a republic instead of a democracy was out of distrust of people as a mass-group, to allow representation of minority opinions instead of mob-rule by the majority.

    And, for all the obsession with freedom and liberty, there can be neither freedom nor liberty in any system which allows the control (either through physical force or psychological force of society) of others by others.

     

    And I think, ultimately, this is why I must part with Rand: her societal ideas are, ultimately, based in ideal rather than what is practically realistic, much like communism.

  • My Facebook currently says I'm in a relationship. This is, to the best of my knowledge, false. At first, I was busy with finishing off finals, let alone getting sleep again. As I was reaching the end of that, I figured she was busy (just getting home and all) and, I reasoned as a side thought, probably best to let her end it, so she could hide anyone else from seeing it (she's not a fan of attention); if I do it, it changes to simply listing her in a relationship without listing with who, which is bound to be noted. She might hide FB from listing being single but that already identifies a change.

    However, it has now been five days since we've supposedly broke up. We both agreed going in that the best course of action would be not continuing the relationship, seeing as I'm graduating and she's only a Freshman. It's not the…ideal scenario, but both of us know a long-distance relationship isn't the best course. Neither of us are good at keeping up communication over anything further than a driving distance (i.e. in person). Had it been more than a mere three months, I might've considered it; but not over so short a time period.

    There was this moment, two or three days after I was finally finished and attempting to get my energy back, where I, through the sleep, was duly aware that, when I woke up, there wouldn't really be anyone I could go to as a means to talk to or lean on so wonderfully as she had allowed; don't get me wrong, Holly, Allan, Maia, Margaret (both), and Antal are all wonderful, but there isn't something quite the same, for reasons I can't articulate in words yet. And, well, that was a little upsetting.

    Every relationship since Allison has been this bizarre question of, "What will happen?" Because, as much as I thought I understood what I wanted, it didn't quite go as planned. Neither did curly. I forget if I mentioned here, but, at least at the beginning (first month or so), there was always that question with Emma; not enough to worry me but just under the surface. I don't like unpredictability, but it's there just the same, for whatever reason.

    I haven't actually had a relationship with an expectation to end, truly. Emma did end, for very much the same reasons, but I hadn't seen it coming (should have, mind you, graduating and all, but it was the first time having to even think about that question). Yet, perhaps because I was used to relationships ending and because I had been contemplating the question of the uses of having short relationships (there is, if my memory serves me, a post a short while back on here where I resolve to get to know people, because time is short and people are fascinating and hardly deserve to remain undiscovered; I'm certain, tied to that, I must have said that meant also getting into another relationship, even if unlikely to succeed, even if certain – from the outset – to end), I was fine with the idea that this would, at the end of the school year, end (only other word coming to mind at the moment to diversify that sentence is terminate and that one's just depressing).

    I mean, I had been waiting on someone to fascinate me, and then Arantza comes along and – good fuck, fascinating barely covers it. Funny as all Hell, smart and perceptive, interested in politics (and dye-in-the-wool liberal, hard Left as far as average Americans go), fascination with the past, conscious of race, etc. etc. And I meet her in the second half of my senior year of college. But, Hell, she said yes (February 20th). There was no way I was going to say no.

    So it seemed logical – neither of us wanted to enter into a long-distance relationship; come the end of the year, we would split. It seemed reasonable, couldn't be helped; it'd be bittersweet come the end, but one would hope so if it was remotely a good relationship.

    But something happened a little sooner than the end of the year. We were listening to records when suddenly – I've always hated the explanation "I just feel it". It's a cop out, something personal which detracts the information from everyone else. Yet those types of instances seem to be cropping up more and more these days. I still think any feeling can be explained in the end, made sense of. However, until that point, all I can say is that something felt different, leaving that room that time. A longing for her not to go so quickly. Before then, it had mostly been like any other friend, other than the fact that I was kissing her; it was very much still like since I had met her. And then it changed.

    Maybe because I had been getting to know her better. As I've said here and to several times, to be open at all is to be vulnerable. And it's in that vulnerability that our relationships have any meaning – because a person has the choice to hurt you but does not; yet, more than that, it would hurt them to do so. Of course, everything, it's seeming, these days boils down to depression and my crappy childhood for me, so maybe the willingness to protect, to not hurt, and to care emanate from those personal experiences. But I hesitate to say that definitively yet.

    Whatever the reason, there was that change. Which I feel is necessary to say that it's different than you feel for a friend. In that, I mean, I care very deeply for my friends. You don't want your friends hurt nor do you not miss them (something just about everyone already knows). Yet you might want to spend time with a significant other over friends at times. What is that distinction? I don't know how to put it to words. Yet that was part of the feeling. That desire to spend time with someone who has become more than a friend. That's the best I can do to detail it.

    So here I am. About to make it "Facebook official". Everything has an end, even if I don't like it.

    And, should you find this, Arantza, the Bessie Smith record sounds positively amazing; I'm playing it now, and it's a shame we never gave it a spin earlier.

  • I'm pretty sure the only times I feel fully like something isn't missing is when I have some dedicated purpose or doing activism. Which is clearly problematic on a whole scale of levels.

    I wanted a quiet Senior year to not get overwhelmed and sort of find some mental peace and figure things out.

    Well, fuck it, then.