Incorrectly Recollected

The Culture of Whiteness!

2010-12-09T13:13:00.000-05:00

Describe your ethnic culture to me and how your ethnicity is important in your life. Find it difficult?

Chances are that means you are White, or more importantly, people treat you as if you are White. Whiteness is the unmarked marker, the invisible, the taken-for-granted, and it is tied to economic and social privilege.

"A kind of unholy trinity of corporations, the state, and monopolistic media produces and reproduces patterns and practices of whiteness with dreadful predictability...its continued persuasiveness rests upon the pervasive social spatial, occupational, and residential segregation that makes our bifurcated social structure seem like a natural phenomenon."

You could also replace "whiteness" with 'hegemony' or 'heteronormativity'.

"Although the nature of jobs and the racial composition of the labor force have changed along with the industries in the economic core, the mass of the working class is still--or perhaps more accurately, once again--not-white, racially segregated, and occupationally segmented."

"The eagerness to be white is not hard to understand, since whiteness is a state of privilege and belonging."

-Karen Brodkin, from How Jews Became White Folks and What That Says about Race in America (1998)

Who is Barack Obama?

2010-11-09T14:24:00.001-05:00

I love the following excerpts from chapter two of Barack Obama's Dreams from my Father. Maybe he is full of meaningless rhetoric like most politicians that enjoy successes. Maybe he has let some of us down with respect to the vision that we aligned with. But I can help but believe he possesses a quality of character that each of us should hope and strive for and look up to. He isn't perfect, and he exists as individual mediating within the current world-state, just as the rest of us are. You're either the type who hurls literal or figurative Molotov cocktails at perceived institutions and ideologies of injustice, or you're the type who fits in enough to combat them as an insider. I can't honestly opine as to which is nobler, both approaches can accomplish progress, and I'll go out on a limb to assert the balance of the two is a tricky art.

"It had taken me less than six months to learn Indonesia's language, its customs, and its legends. I had survived chicken pox, measles, and the sting of my teachers' bamboo switches.

The children of farmers, servants, and low-level bureaucrats had become my best friends, and together we ran the streets morning and night, hustling odd jobs, catching crickets, battling swift kites with razor-sharp lines – the loser watched his kite soar off with the wind, and knew that somewhere other children had formed a long wobbly train, their heads towards the sky, waiting for their prize to land.

With Lolo [Obama's stepfather], I learned how to eat small green chill peppers raw with dinner (plenty of rice), and, away from the dinner table, I was introduced to dog meat (tough), snake meat (tougher), and roasted grasshopper (crunchy)."

"That's how things were, one long adventure, the bounty of a young boy's life. In letters to my grandparents, I would faithfully record many of these events, confident that more civilising packages of chocolate and peanut butter would surely follow.

But not everything made its way into my letters; some things I found too difficult to explain. I didn't tell Toot and Gramps about the face of the man who had come to our door one day with a gaping hole where his nose should have been: the whistling sound he made as he asked my mother for food. Nor did I mention the time that one of my friends told me in the middle of recess that his baby brother had died the night before of an evil spirit brought in by the wind – the terror that danced in my friend's eyes for the briefest of moments before he let out a strange laugh and punched my arm and broke off into a breathless run.

There was the empty look on the faces of farmers the year the rains never came, the stoop in their shoulders as they wandered barefoot through their barren, cracked fields, bending over every so often to crumble earth between their fingers; and their desperation the following year when the rains lasted for over a month, swelling the river and fields until the streets gushed with water and swept as high as my waist and families scrambled to rescue their goats and their hens even as chunks of their huts washed away."

"The world was violent, I was learning, unpredictable and often cruel. My grandparents knew nothing of such a world, I decided; there was no point in disturbing them with questions they couldn't answer."

Excerpts taken from http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2010/nov/09/barack-obama-childhood-indonesia

I'm attracted to female-bodied persons.

2010-04-06T18:54:00.000-04:00

I could attempt to identity all the reasons and circumstances as to why it is that I am, usually somewhat masked, intensely attracted to female-bodied persons.

But this is just a blog post.

Adrienne Rich defines the lesbian continuum as that which embraces "many more forms of primary intensity between and among women, including the sharing of a rich inner life, the bonding against male tyranny, the giving and receiving of practical and political support". Rich's "lesbian continuum" embraces not only lesbian but also heterosexual women, who are conceptualized not as part of a hierarchical binary but as part of a continuum. Rich's continuum also includes female bonding against homophobic tendencies in some of the feminist movements.

Rich, Adrienne. 1980. Compulsory heterosexuality and lesbian existence.
as quoted by Wu, Peichen in the collection: Women's sexualities and masculinities in a globalizing Asia.

Langston Hughes and El-P

2010-02-06T17:59:00.003-05:00

Just a short assignment written for a sociology class. Everyone else wrote a few lame sentences. Not me.

"Democracy" is one of my favorite poems that I have read in the book so far. We live in a country that may be a federal republic, but it is thought of as a democracy--more appropriately--it is thought of as being founded upon principles of democracy. Hughes' poem is about the disconnect between democratic ideals and how such ideals are able to be put into practice (or not). It is likely impossible for true democracy to prevail in a stable, organized society. However many educated people including sociologists will tell you with self-assurance that social change takes time. If it is true that a democratic system cannot be perfect it follows that some people, especially those tagged as being members of marginalized groups, will not enjoy as many democratic freedoms and liberties as others. As Hughes' says, people are expected to live with fear and compromise. For members of marginalized groups the compromise is usually quite unbalanced (more compromise expected of the marginalized group member) and the level of fear is high because of discrimination and mistreatment.

Intrinsic to the values of a democratic nation like ours is the hope that no one should have to live like this. This is something I believe as well. Sometimes people expect that this should be easily remedied (i. e., somehow things should magically be easy for them), but that idea couldn't be more wrong. It is not rooted in rationalism or empiricism. It is a tired way of thinking and not very dissimilar from the kind of thinking that Hughes' says he is tired of; "Let things take their course." Both of these ways of thinking are centered on inaction. In fact, the most powerful, and arguably the most beautiful, component of democracy is the right to act. Protecting democracy includes working for freedom and liberty. Social change does not happen by some intangible force. It is, like Margaret Mead said, the product of a "...group of thoughtful, committed citizens..." and that they "...can change the world; indeed, it's the only thing that ever has." Though some people may disagree with Hughes' sentiment, this is a very powerful poem. That sense of awareness of quality of life for oneself and others may be the fundamental core to taking appropriate action, even in small ways of everyday life. We do not all have to be examples of perfection, but awareness we owe to ourselves and others.

I am a huge fan of music, and one of my favorite genres is what can be called underground or alternative hip-hop. My favorite hip-hop artist is El-P and below is a song by him called "Up All Night." I have set in bold font the most relevant lyrics. Here is a link to the song on YouTube.

This song has the same sentiment as the Hughes poem. El-P is angry because he knows that American society does not do its best to facilitate the true values of democracy. By saying that he "stayed up all night" he means that he has done his best to inform himself because a culture which treats us like we've been born yesterday requires such. This kind of culture is represented by the concept he borrows from George Orwell of Newspeak. El-P seems to feel that we live in a culture that encourages consumption, laziness and thoughtlessness in order for society to be easily controlled. When he makes the comment about being high, I feel this is commentary on encouragement for relief from inevitable angst through zoning-out--which can be relieved by drugs, television, and video games along with the rest of the "I want it right now" staples of our culture. Surely a society which uses zoning-out methods will avoid organized, thoughtful rebellion. It will be quieter and easier to control.

El-P says that he sees through all of this and knows what the lies are. Like Hughes, he knows that we deserve more. We deserve a pursuit of happiness that may be more true and long-lasting; more than symptomatic. He is angry like Hughes was. How could he not be? He wishes he could carry hope. By the nature of hope he is probably like others who find it rekindled. After all if Hughes and El-P became forever without hope, why would they write what they do? Perhaps El-P would say that when Hughes speaks of fear it is also to say that people are afraid of having anger and securing hope.

I'm from Brooklyn
Vandal bedrock
Scandal bedlam
Broken burnt up
New New York speak
Newspeak, true speak
Universe dirt, burnt to loose leaf
Bomb the Casbah
Bring the bleeders
Sanity fistfuck such allegiance
Born a trashman
Grew in garbage
Mutant hostage
Do the knowledge

(Chorus)
I see you all regardless
I know what lies are like
I might have been born yesterday, sir
But I stayed up all night
I see you all regardless
I know this time's a fright
We might have been born yesterday, friends
But we stayed up all night, right?

I'm a young man
I want happy
We deserve that
Dream collapsing
I'm just one man
So damn angry
True confusion
Scared what truth is
Hydrofoil
Hide ya face
Say "hi, horseman"
Highest stakes
High again
Well, how 'bout that?
Well, how the fuck else can I react?

[Chorus]

El, you're too preachy
You don't reach me
Right and wrong's hard
You say easy?
Look, they made me
I was normal
On some rap shit
Up rock back spin
Pause, collapse then
Back to windmill
Innocent thrill
So old-fashioned
We're all deranged
I'm no different
I wish my hope still existed

Run the blades
Nexus six shit
Life span program final digits
You're my daddy
You'll protect me
I need guidance to live correctly
I can't fight you
Feed me ether
I'm your servant
You're the teacher (Yo, what the fuck, El?)
Oops, so sorry
That's the implant talking for me

[Chorus]

The Wonderment for Things Once Valued, Now Discarded.

2009-10-23T23:51:00.002-04:00

In our selfish way of life in this great industrialized nation, we ignore all that we leave behind. We want bigger. We need more. We deserve better.

Like a carousel ride, to stare out at the blurry rise and fall of trends without substance will make you nauseous. It can be mind-numbing to contemplate on the plethora of limited time offers dying and being born at any given moment. In our lives of convenience to be denied instant gratification seems unbearable. As we look down at the wooden horse's reins, we realize we are just going around in the same circle and wonder when it stops. We can't ever be complete or happy.

All of us lost in our own self-medication for the common human condition, we are comforted to have company next to us on our little downward spirals. No one is making a fuss, and we're not going to be the odd man out. As we move on to each new distraction we do not take time to care of the past.

This is not completely true of everyone. It is somewhat true of most. The rare person who may be free of responsibility of guilt is looked at as a freak instead of a hero and example to all of us. This is less of a critique on my part and more of an observation. It's not hard to understand why we are the way we are. We are players in a mysterious game.

I've always been fascinated with the things we leave behind. Mere objects once infused with a life of their own by the love of the owner at some point become trash. Homes get destroyed, or otherwise abandoned and are left to fall apart because someone isn't sure what to do with them. Businesses find it more profitable to close up in one area and build in a new area, leaving the previous building for sometimes many years until someone else buys the property.

I must have nostalgia not only for history, but also for things deemed ugly, outdated, and not good enough anymore. I am surprised that things are so easily forgotten. It is compelling that the forgotten continues to exist even though no one is interested. It seems to be waiting for me to come along and discover its beauty and uniqueness.

Anyway, I didn't expect to write all that. The point is I am so in love with things abandoned. Exploring forgotten places is a difficult hobby to be into. You have to know people who have experiences with it, and I don't. I am fairly educated about the safety measures and protocol of these things, but I can't do them well on my own. The biggest problem is figuring out where to go. This is not the easiest thing to do on the internet, even as wonderful as the internet is, and especially when you live where I do. I love to drive for hours in the country just for fun, which is probably the easiest way to spot a potential place around here.

I really want to go here:

http://www.offroaders.com/album/centralia/centralia.htm

Admittedly I'll go just about anywhere *nearby* if someone has a place in mind...

Guess being sick on a Friday night is an excuse to blog,
Etoilia

Well look at this.

2009-09-27T16:48:00.000-04:00

I have a fucking blog. And I know how to use it.