Skip to main content

My friend, the racist

If you know me at all, you know that I can talk to just about anyone. It's a gift really. In my life, I've discussed Sartre with Hell's Angels, beer & fishing with a Royal, poetry with schizophrenics and music with the deaf. If I've learned nothing else, I've learned that everyone has an opinion...and 99.9978% of the time, that opinion is valid.

I have a dear friend who I've known for over 15 years. When he moved here to the US back in the mid 90s, I befriended him. Being a white guy from Africa, I found him to be intriguing. As I personally am not allowed to visit most of Africa (due to my work in the 80s with A.I.), I found hearing his firsthand accounts of growing up there fascinating. While I openly disagreed with many of his native culture's views on race, women, etc., I took it all in stride. I always threw in my 2 cents worth...and we began a great friendship.

Over time, he would roadie for my band and we would hang out a lot. My friend's seemingly bigoted outlooks definitely didn't sit well with many here in the states. He began to mellow on this, and as he was a very young man, I saw this as him growing up.

But there's an asshole in every bunch. Pittsburgh, or SW PA for that matter, has never been at a loss for racists. We've all known someone who could make Archie Bunker look like a liberal. Most folks grow out of it, some grow into it. I accept these folks for who they are. While I do not agree with their views, I won't consider them necessarily evil unless they act on these views. Having worked in behavior for a quarter century, I know that these are learned behaviors. No one is born a racist. That said, racism works both ways. I have had black folks tell me how much they hate white people...except me...I'm OK. LOL Basically, I think ALL people are good at heart.

Having said all of this, I hear from my friend, who now lives in Canada, from time to time. He's married now, with kids of his own, nice little suburban house, nice job, and everything he could really want in life. When I met his wife and kids a little over a year ago, I thought they were just peachy. His wife is a lot of fun and the kids are just great!

In the past few months, I've received some disturbing emails from my friend. It appears that he is back on the White Power kick...and this time, it's getting ugly. The blame, it appeared, started with hating Muslims. This seems an all-too-familiar bent with many in our culture, thanks to 9/11 and the media (mostly Fox News).

Then his vitriolic rants changed. It's all about how "niggers and mexicans" are ruining America. WTF???? My friend lives in Canada! Unless we've recently annexed the Great White North and I missed it, Canada still IS NOT the United States of America...so why does the thought of these people doing anything here bother him???? If gangs of Malaysian drag queens were terrorizing the streets of Winnipeg with their unique fashion sense, it really wouldn't bother ME!

As usual, I try to play it all down...but if you know me, you know that I all too easily will spout my own views on the world...which are based in my faith as a Christian. No, I'm not a Bible thumper. I don't really even like the Bible that much. Christ (who my faith is name for) probably wouldn't like it a whole lot either...but that is, admittedly, speculation on my part.

I see ALL people as just that; people. We all live different lives and sometimes our experiences intersect with others. It is those common experiences that we share with each other and develop various forms of relationships. Some folks are good most of the time, some folks are not. Not a one of us is perfect in anyway, shape or form.

I'll admit to not paying a lot of attention to the Martin/Zimmerman situation. Sad as it is, the media is making a bad situation worse. I do not trust the mass media for my information...they edit and spin everything in such a way as to sensationalize the story. This is done to get YOU the consumer to pay attention long enough to sell you a product. Oftentimes, that product is a mindset.

The media is corporate owned. Think for a minute who owns these corporations. Then think just what their agenda is. It's not just to sell you toilet paper or dish soap or a new appliance. Their agenda is control. The media has become too powerful. It has become Orwell's Big Brother. If you think I'm crazy, then think about this: Chances are, your employer is quietly monitoring your internet useage. If you have a Facebook page, I can bet that your employer is checking it out. Ask them...they'll usually tell you that they are.

Back to my friend. He has been sending me links to sites like this & this. I've looked at these sites (and their affiliated sites) and I have to tell you...this shit scares me! It's the 21st century and damn it if it doesn't sound like we as a people have regressed! And this is just the extreme right, white power types! In the case of Martin/Zimmerman, Spike Lee and others have posted what they THOUGHT was Zimmerman's address in an attempt to go after him. Whatever happened to due process? It seems that EVERYONE has gone insane! It's lynchmobs on both sides!

TAKE A DEEP BREATH AND CALM DOWN FOLKS!

Racisms, and any other "isms" are based on fear. Fear is the tool most used by politicians and the media to gain CONTROL over a group of people. Sadly, it appears to be working. One of the oldest military strategies has always been "divide and conquer". This is happening today in our own country and our own culture. Think about it. Right vs. Left. Conservative vs. Liberal. Rich vs. Poor. Black vs. White vs. Latino vs. Asian. People are being played like pawns. Word a story the right way, spin it, and you can gain control of a group of people's mindset. Then those folks do the rest of the job. They spin the yarn to their friends...and since one hears it from a friend or loved one, one tends to BELIEVE it.

We ALL need a reality check. Turn off your computer, your TV, your radio. Go outside. Go for a walk. Say HI to your neighbor. We're becoming a very, scary reality.

My friend did make an interesting point. Racism is an industry and as such, is doing very well for itself. Please take the time to boycott that particular industry. You don't have to love everyone (even though that would be nice) but at least try this: treat EVERYONE exactly how YOU would like to be treated...no matter WHAT the circumstance. Don't be reactionary. Take a deep breath. Count to ten. But most of all, THINK.

Regardless of my friend's current mindset, I do still love him. He is my friend. I know that if push came to shove, he would have my back and I would have his. I don't know just what has him scared enough to follow this particular twisted path he is on but hopefully, something will happen to bring him back around again. Maybe YOU will the change he needs to see.

Mad love to you all!
M

Comments

  1. I agree with you. My life is also filled with people who hold all sorts of beliefs I do not agree with. And like you, I'm a mouthy kind- of person. I don't just sit silently but I do try to remember in my moments of reactionary anger that if I'm not careful I might just reinforce those fear-based-hate beliefs.

    ReplyDelete
  2. This comment has been removed by the author.

    ReplyDelete
  3. I view racists and such as I would pedophiles. I dont want them near my kids. I have ¨befriended¨white African racists and they have given me great insight as to their history and world-view. Kinda like NAMBLA activists I have met. I find their views interesting and on some levels compelling but I would never let them near my children. That being said, racism is so prevailent in the american psyche that it is impossible to avoid and I would have to hide my kids in a cave. I am in the process of cutting out the racists from my life. Some can be reprogrammed but like child molesters most cant escape the grip of their affliction.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Let's Talk Typing

When I was a kid, we had an already ancient Royal typewriter at home. Book reports, certain schoolwork, or in my case, just for making noise. Mom had a nice electric typewriter that she used for work. But that old Royal - that's probably where my love of writing began. - MM I was thinking about my old typewriter last night. Writing was serious back then. Forty pounds of steel, keys, and ribbon. No batteries. No updates. No distractions. Just you and the machine. And that machine fought back. Type too fast and the keys would jam together like two drunks fighting in a bar. Type too slowly or too lightly and it might just decide you didn’t really need that letter or that word. Sometimes it felt like the thing had opinions. Like it was quietly judging you. You learned quickly. You learned rhythm. You learned pressure. You learned patience. It was like a built-in editor made of steel and stubbornness. Made a mistake? Start over. Or, if you didn’t mind your work looking like hell, dab s...

Fags & Faggots

 It was late February 2002, and I was getting ready for my first trip overseas.  I had lucked into a handful of gigs, and I was thrilled by the chance. I grew up watching lots of Hammer horror films, and almost any British show I could find. Monty Python's Flying Circus, The Benny Hill Show, Dave Allen, and Tommy Cooper were regular viewing thanks to public television. I spent plenty of time reading British literature, especially Arthur Conan Doyle. My maternal grandfather’s family was British, so it’s fair to say I was an Anglophile. I thought I had a pretty good understanding of “the Queen’s English.” I was well acquainted with terms like spanner, lorry, telly, and most hilarious to twelve-year-old me, fags (or cigarettes, for those unaware). I was under the mistaken impression that “wanker” could be used as a term of endearment, not unlike jagoff. I later found this to be…not quite accurate. I was admittedly concerned about the food. While I occasionally consider myself ad...

THE BOOK I'LL NEVER WRITE

He sometimes said his greatest regret was not taking the old Trans-Siberian Railway eastward to Lake Baikal. Not because he cared much for bucket lists. He considered such catalogs as vanity with stationery, for those who had wasted decades suddenly writing down ten expensive ways to continue wasting time. No, what he regretted was more precise than that. He regretted never sitting in a dim canteen somewhere near Irkutsk while some broad-faced stranger lied to him magnificently over soup and vodka. He regretted never hearing the room laugh at a joke he only half understood. He regretted missing stories that would now likely never be told the same way again. His body had long since vetoed such ambitions. These days he was lucky if the month’s arithmetic ended with enough left over for prescriptions. If Melinda French Gates wished to finance a crippled Pennsylvanian’s global adventures, he remained open to discussion, but until then, conversations near Lake Baikal would have to survi...