Tuesday, January 18, 2011

Coloureds, Women, and the Gay Addenda, Part I

You know who I hate? Bigots. I abhor racists, xenophobes, and homophobes. They make me wonder if all humans truly do have a common ancestor, or if some actually evolved from piles of dinosaur dung, as opposed to the rest of us who evolved from primates. They’re all over where I work, they’re in some of the bars where I go, I find them while travelling, I see a LOT of them hiding behind fake names on internet blogs and trolling the comment lines of news stories…they’re like V sleeper cells! You’ll start talking to someone thinking they’re nice people, then BAM! “I sure hate them Mexicans.” Don’t get me wrong; my friends and I throw a few off-colour jokes here and there, but it’s more to point out the absolute absurdity of ethnic hate, not to amplify it. My friends get together for a group picture, and it joyfully looks like a Benetton ad.

Being racist against someone’s skin colour or background is ridiculous. It is worse when people don’t realise how bigoted they are. I LOVE to hear, “I’m not racist, but…”, and then hear the most filthy, balls-punchingly racist diatribe ever. It still annoys me when I am being followed through a store by security. It’s been happening since I was 13. I’ve been 29 for 4 years now, I’m college educated and employed, and it STILL happens! By the way, black people reading this, a fun game to play in a department store is “Ring Around the Rosie”. As soon as you spot the security guard following you, start humming “Ring Around the Rosie” while you walk in figure 8s around the displays. Once you get to the “We all fall down” part, just drop down. That way, they think you’re crazy, not a criminal. Another fun thing to do is dance to the music in the department store. They will start looking around, because they’ll think a flash mob is about to erupt. You could also start following them. That is fun as well. One time, local cop reminded me of that the other day when he questioned from where I got my car, because it didn’t seem like “I” would have a car like that. I know what the hell that means, dicksnot. It wasn’t until I showed him my registration and ID that I was allowed to go into MY OWN F***ING HOUSE!

It drives me up the wall when I hear some yutz at work talking about “jewing down” a price for a vendor, or when they use the word “urban” in my presence. Just say n***er. I know that’s what you’re thinking, and it gives me a good reason to punch you in the neck. I love when I tell them I don’t eat chicken, and I inevitably get, “YOU don’t eat chicken???” No, suh, Ah doesn’t! But I still likes dah wattamelons and hot sauce! Or my favourite: “So you weren’t in the military. How did YOU get a job here?” Well, the massah lets me reads the books, but I best not tell nobody! Dey might cut off my tongue! My favourite is when they find out I’m Jewish, and I see that little blood vessel pop in their heads as they try to wrap their heads around the idea that that JUST might be a black Jew in their presence. Have you heard of Ethiopia, you ignorant motherf***ers? The converted few in NYC? MOSES??? And stop asking me about “black things”! I haven’t been to a meeting in years.

My anger isn’t solely for racist white people. Have you ever met a black guy who is so blindly racist, he sees something offensive in everything? He’ll say things like, “Why the hell are Frosted flakes just Grrreat, but you gotta go coo-coo for Cocoa Puffs! Damn Rice Crispies have a bunch little white boys as mascots, but Cocoa Crispies have a damn monkey! It’s racist!” It’s hilarious, but it is also sad, because the dude is serious. He really believes that the white man is trying to keep him down with subtle nuances in society. You look at that man, and you feel sorry that his mother wasn’t pro-choice. I know this, because I used to be that black guy, complaining that black olives were in cans while the green, lighter olives get to be in glass jars, wondering why angel’s food is white while devil’s food is dark, rocking leather pea coats and sunglasses as if that was proper attire for the coming “revolution”…but then I grew up. I realised the value of people’s character, and that skin colour is nothing but one gene triggered over another…I kept the pea coat though. Women dig it.

1 comment:

  1. Hey, uh, you're black, so ... know where I can get some weed, cuz? ;)


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