Thursday, October 27, 2005 -- 5:57 PM
Going Down
I stepped onto the elevator while looking over the application and noticed where it said to list things about yourself that qualify you for this particular honour and I began to smile to myself when the elevator stopped and let two middle-aged women on who were in the middle of a discussion, "You have to be sure that you can invest the time because it's important that you can commit totally. It's a friendship. No, it's really a support group. If you can't do that then don't even bother." the older one was saying and glanced back at me as they stepped off so I looked away, back to my application, and wasn't sure if I really felt like smiling any more.
Saturday, October 08, 2005 -- 6:52 PM
Of all the forwards I've ever recieved, this one really stood out:
American History X
You pass me on the street and sneer in my direction.
You call me "Cracker", "Honkey", "Whitey" and even "The Man" and you think it's OK.
But when I call you, "Nigger", "Towelhead", "Sand-Nigger", "Camel Jockey", "Beaner" or "Chink" you call me a racist.
You say that whites commit a lot of violence against you, so why are the ghettos the most dangerous places to live?
You say that you want to make a change in this country.
How? By protesting everything that we believe in? By trying to change everything that has made this country run fine for centuries?
You have Martin Luther King Day.
You have Cesar Chavez Day.
You have Cinco de Mayo
You have Ma'uled Al-Nabi
You have BET.
If we had WET (white entertainment television), we'd be racists.
If we had a White Pride Day you would call us racists.
If we had white history month, we'd be racists.
In the Million Man March, you believed that you were marching for your race and rights.
If we marched for our race and rights, you would call us racists.
You enjoy the thought of driver's licenses for illegals.
We enjoy the thought of people obeying the laws of the land in which they reside. No negotiations.
You are proud to be black, brown, yellow and orange, and you're not afraid to announce it.
But when we announce our white pride, you call us racists.
You call each other "niggas", but when we call you that, you call us racists.
You rob us, carjack us, and shoot at us.
But, when a white police officer shoots a black gang member or beats up a black drug-dealer running from the law and posing a threat to society, you call him a racist.
We work hard to perserve our history.
You come along and try to re-write it.
We want a safe environment for our families and children.
You want to bring the ghetto to our neighborhoods.
I am white.
I am proud.
I am an American.
But, you call me a racist.
Why is it that only whites can be racists?
Thursday, October 06, 2005 -- 4:11 PM
A
Take a deep breath and hold it in. When your hear your oxygen deprived blood pounding through your head, then you'll know what it's like just before you throw down a winning hand. The air you take in after that never tasted quite as good, or meant quite as much. Some people don't like that much. Some think you get a better rush out of heli-skiing or mountain climbing. I wouldn't know about any of that. I'm a pretty simple guy.
B
My mouth was dry as I knocked on your front door. "Hello." and I went in. I looked at the pictures on your wall. Some were of you when you were a little girl. You went into the living room and sat down and I didn't really know what to say, so I didn't say anything. You weren't looking at me anyways and the way you folded your arms didn't make any of this very easy. "Okay," I started. Then you looked at me and that made it even harder. "You don't need to say anything," you said. You said you wouldn't know how it would be even if I did say something. Nothing changes, does it, you said. No, I admitted. I'm a pretty simple guy.
