oh-stella!

The first time I heard this song, it almost brought me to tears. Because I know how hard it is to want so much to be worthy of love, and to struggle desperately toward that worthiness, only to be dragged back down by personal demons.

“Are you my family?
Can I stay with you a while?
Can I stop off in your bed tonight?
I could make you smile.

In the morning I’ll make you breakfast.
In the evening I’ll warm the bed.
And I’ll always be happy to kiss you.
Promise I’ll never get sad.

‘Til the siren come calling, calling.
It’s driving me evil, evil.
I was a heart breaker. I loved you
the same way I do,
but I’ve got so much wickedness and sin.

My name is Pearl,
and I’ll love you the best way I know how.
My blonde curls slice through your heart.
And the siren come calling
in the night ’til the light.

Help you dress yourself up fancy.
Bathe you when you get sore.
I’ll be good. I think I could
be all you would want and more, and more.

Be proud when you dazzle the wondrous,
glitter your eyes for the town.
Tell every last boy that you’re my man,
try not to let you down.

‘Til the siren come calling, calling.
It’s driving me evil, evil.
I was a heart breaker. I loved you
the same way I do,
but I’ve got so much wickedness and sin.

My name is Pearl,
and I’ll love you the best way I know how.
My blonde curls slice through your heart.
And the stars are exploding the lights.
It won’t be long until you’re running.
No, it won’t be long until you’re running.
It won’t be long until you’re running.
It won’t be long until you’re running.
‘Cause I’m evil. ‘Cause I’m evil.”

When I voted for John Kerry, not because I actually liked him, but because I considered him the lesser of two evils, and George Bush still won the election, by a very narrow margin, I did what any law-abiding citizen would do. I brushed my shoulder and popped my collar and hoped that the Bush administration wouldn’t do any damage too irreversible while we waited for the next election. That’s all anyone can do, when a leader they don’t agree with is selected through completely legal and legitimate means. We mourned, we got over it, we waited. We seethed in frustration, at times, sure, but we didn’t take our ball and go home because we were home, and the other people who lived with us had made a decision we had to honor even if we didn’t like it.

So, why, exactly, after being in power for eight years, are conservatives so unwilling to do the same? Why can they not take it, now that the shoe is on the other foot? They want to secede, have tea parties, advocate violent overthrow of the government, question the president’s actions as treason, etc, etc, etc, and he’s only been the president for about one hundred days! One hundred days? We gave you eight years and you can’t even give us one, or even half of one? We were willing to swallow our bitterness because to be part of a democracy is to accept that you will sometimes be on the losing end of the vote, and yet, you, the people who claim to be the “true Americans” can’t do that?

What is wrong with that picture?

I am so over conservatives. I think that is their problem, actually. A lot of the country, in general, is over them. They’re like the Spencer and Heidi of political agendas. They keep staging ridiculous photo ops to try and get people to care about them, but we’ve seen it all before and we just can’t be bothered.

To quote xkcd:

“My dad said flu vaccines are linked to autism, so to be safe from swine flu, I’m trying to lick an autistic kid.”

For my own safety, I am neither eating uncooked bacon nor walking up to pigs and patting them on the head. You make mock me for my extreme measures, but I live in a county where one of the chief agricultural ventures is a little thing known as “hog-farming”. You may have heard of it. It’s where farmers bury porkchops in the ground and, a few months later, fully-grown pigs emerge. The earth, she is bountiful.

You don’t understand how risky it is, to live in farm country in Indiana. All those people in the cities up north, like Gary, they don’t know how good they have it.

This:

is exceedingly frustrating.

I hate that bigots will not answer questions that spotlight their obvious bigotry with the truth, “Because I am a bigot.”

Everyone has the right to choose is not the correct answer. Because, yes, while everyone has the right to vote, if the decision is put to one, about whether or not they think gay marriage is right, not everyone has the right to choose, because in almost every state, gay people cannot choose to be married. So not everyone can choose. Wrong answer.

“I believe in marriage being heterosexual because I grew up as a product of a heterosexual marriage” is also not the correct answer. It implies that we can only ever be what we were taught to be when growing up. I, the daughter and granddaughter of virulent racists, currently in an eight-year relationship with a black man, I refute that claim. I, the daughter and granddaughter of chronic alcoholics, having never been drunk more than a handful of times in my life, I refute that claim. I, the daughter and granddaughter of violent child abusers, having never laid a hand on any of the children I’ve been close to, I refute that claim. Wrong answer.

The truth is this: millions of people hate gay people, or, short of that, find them distasteful. I hate what I am not because everyone should be like me. I am not gay, you cannot be gay, and if you are gay, then you cannot have the same rights and privileges as I do, because that’s not fair to me. I deserve more than you because you are wrong and I am right. Being right entitles me to everything. Being wrong entitles you to nothing.

Probably the person answering the question in this particular instance has never thought of this. Maybe she has only ever thought of white teeth and blonde hair and glittering gowns and glossy lips and glowing tans and perfect posture and the kinds of pins that will hold crowns and sashes in their places. But one day she’ll probably want to get married. And no one will tell her that she can’t. And probably then, after a few years ,she’ll want to get divorced. And no one will tell her that she can’t. And maybe then married again. And no one will tell her that she can’t. Maybe she’ll marry five men, and spend all of their money on plastic surgery. But no one will ever, ever tell her that she can’t. Because her right to marriage is sacred, no marriage less sanctified than the last.

All because the person on the other end of the bond of matrimony has a penis and not a vagina.

What part of you does two men being legally bound together hurt? Your heart? Your soul? Or simply the part of you that flinches at anything you don’t understand? If heaven is waiting for you, then it is. No matter what anyone else does. And if hell is waiting for them, then it is. No matter what anyone else does. Let us all take care of our own hearts, and our own souls, and let death sort everyone else out.

The thing that keeps most people of opposing views from being able to get along with each other is the shoddy wiring we have that causes us to view people who don’t agree with us as evil. That old bushism about “terrorist states”: if you’re not for us then you’re for them, and they’re evil. It leaves no room for moral relativism. In fact, most people are moral absolutists and don’t even believe in moral relativism.

The thing I think is the most amusing is the people who think that our society, as a whole, is so morally decayed, the end of the world must be approaching. Morally decayed compared to what? Compared to sixty years ago when it was socially acceptable to hate someone for being a different color? Or a hundred years ago, when it was socially acceptable to rob small children of their childhoods by making them work to support their families? Or a hundred and fifty years ago, when it was socially acceptable for one man to own another man?

Because there’s nothing relative about that, in regard to morals, unless you’re talking about some other aspect of the era, compared to now. Such as whether or not people did drugs. Because they did drugs. A hundred years ago, when a sizable chunk of the population was hooked on opium. Whether or not they had less sex. Because they must have been having plenty of sex. A hundred and fifty years ago, when the white masters were routinely raping their females slaves. Whether or not they wore more clothing. Because they did wear more clothing, but it had little to do with morals. A hundred and fifty years ago, when the clothing a woman was supposed to wear was just another way for a male dominated society to control her body and what she could do with it.

There’s not a lot of “bad” that happens now that hasn’t been happening forever. It only seems like it because older people always try to brainwash younger people into believing that the younger generation is somehow more flawed. I’m flawed, because I don’t want anyone to hang my boyfriend from the nearest tree, because I don’t think drugs are the end of the world because you did them and you’re still alive, because I don’t want to wear a corset laced so tight that I have fainting spells that require smelling salts, because I fuck and I’m not married, because I say fuck and I’m a girl, because I don’t want my abortion to be performed with a rusty hanger, because I don’t agree with you about anything. I’m the opposing force. I am evil.

This is what Harvey Milk told me:

“You are not sick. You are not wrong. And god doesn’t hate you.”

This is what Gaius Baltar told me:

“I love you because you are absolutely perfect just the way you are.”

What I want to know is, what does anyone earn by telling people that god would say the opposite? If you believe in god, fine. That must be a comfort to you on the dark nights when sleep won’t come and when it does, it feels like the world is closing in on you. But why use a god meant to comfort people about the questions there are no answers for to bludgeon other peoples’ spirits to death? What do you earn from that? Moral superiority? Is that the song you use to lull yourself to sleep? And if so, what kind of person does that make you, really?

If the end comes and he comes to me and tells me I am wrong, I know what I will say.

“You made me. I am you. If you hate me, you hate yourself. Now who’s the one who’s wrong?”

It’s only class warfare when the redistribution of wealth favors the lower classes. When if favors those who are already wealthy, as it has for the past thirty years, then that’s just capitalism as usual. There is class warfare going on. It’s the war being conducted by the rich in their efforts to become even richer. Aided and abetted by the controlling government which has been, by and large, Republican.

The thing about Americans is this: we want to believe that in our country, anyone can become rich, that classes do not exist and that the pauper can rise to the top and become the prince, because there is no aristocracy to keep him down. While this is certainly not untrue, given examples like Oprah, who came from nothing and is now her own empire, it’s not a common enough instance to explain our slavish devotion to the idea of it. We can’t penalize the hardworking wealthy who earned their money from honest labor, because we envision ourselves as working hard and one day becoming a member of that class, ourselves.

The truth is that there is usually no honest labor when it comes to amassing a fortune. You have to lie, cheat, steal, and step on people to get there. And most people, when they’re at the top, they don’t look back and they don’t pull anyone else up with them. In fact, they slam the door as soon as they pass through it. They evade taxes and lay off workers while pocketing enormous bonuses. Etc, etc, etc, etc. There’s a reason why they called the early captains of industry, the Carnagies and Rockefellers “robber barons”. Because that’s how you get ahead. At everyone else’s expense. Literally and figuratively.

So it’s pretty funny, the cries of class warfare coming from all corners, about Obama’s proposed plans to increase taxes on the wealthy. Because the class warfare has been going on for a long time, already, this is just someone trying to strike a blow for the other side. Which won’t work, anyway. Most people with any kind of experience handling large sums of money have already figured out a way to avoid paying taxes. The rest of us? Not so much.

If you don’t believe me, just ask the richest man in the world, circa 2008:

“There’s class warfare, all right,” Warren Buffett said, “but it’s my class, the rich class, that’s making war, and we’re winning.”

He said this after discovering, via a survey of the employees in his office, that those employees, clerks and secretaries, pay a higher percentage of their wages to income tax than he does.

Exactly.

A lot of the media reaction to Chris Brown’s assault on Rihanna is disgusting to me. Chris Brown’s female fans’ reaction is disgusting to me. The fact that, in this day and age, people still try to find some way to justify why a man would hit a woman, in a way that seeks to make it the woman’s fault somehow, is disgusting. The fact that a lot of this justification comes from other women is even more disgusting.

You’re not perfect. No one is. But as long as you keep your hands to yourself, no one ever, ever has the right to put their hands on you. End of story.

Theme for English B

Out of the rack and ruin of our gangster death,
The rape and rot of graft, and stealth, and lies,
We, the people, must redeem
The land, the mines, the plants, the rivers.
The mountains and the endless plain–
All, all the stretch of these great green states–
And make America again!

The infuriating thing that I keep encountering in real life and on the internet is white people saying something along the lines of, “If President Obama is half white, then why is he automatically considered black? Why do black people keep saying that he’s black? He’s half white!”

At which point my head explodes.

But, let me break it down for my fellow whities out there, who should know this, but obviously would rather not, because it makes them feel bad and we can’t be having that.

It’s called the one-drop rule. White people invented it. If you have “one drop” of African blood, you’re black. No if, ands, or buts, it doesn’t matter what you look like, if any of your ancestors was black, you’re black. The end.

Now, why would white people invent a rule and then forget of its existence?

Because the one-drop rule was invented in response to the fact that a lot of white masters were fucking their female slaves. And the resultant children were the sons or daughters of white male citizens, which should have, by rights, made them citizens But we couldn’t be having that. So, therefore, white slave owners all over the south proclaimed, if your mother is a slave, you’re a slave. It doesn’t matter if your father is, oh, say, the president of the country. If your mother is a slave, you’re a slave. If you have a baby, it’s a slave, too. And so it went, until you could be as pale as a ghost, whiter than your owner, even, and still be a slave.

Even after slavery was abolished, the one-drop rule was still in effect for the purpose of segregation. There were Jim Crow laws that even went so far as to define exactly how much African blood you could have by using fractions. IE, if you were 1/32 black, then you were still black, but if you had a baby with someone white, that baby would be only 1/64 black, and, therefore, allowed to be white. Jackpot! But only if no one knew that you were actually black, because then everyone would accuse your 1/64 black baby of being completely black, anyway.

This was legal forty years ago. My parents’ lifetime. Again, not ancient history.

In these modern times, you could be half white and half black and claim to be white, and legally, the government would let you. But! It doesn’t make a difference. Because if you’re walking down the street, an old white lady will see you and still clutch her purse tighter. If you’re shopping at a store with a mostly white clientele, the salespeople will still follow you around and try to catch you stealing. If you have babies that are even whiter than you are, people will still think they’re not yours, when they see you together in public.

Because as much as we’re all patting ourselves on the back and thinking to ourselves, “Look, we elected a black president! We’re progressive!” we’re still a deeply racist country. We’re still scarred by slavery and segregation. We still look at each other with fear and suspicion. We’re not unified. We don’t even know how to be.

If I have a baby, she’ll be black. She’ll be as much mine as his, but he’s black, so she’ll be black. And there’s nothing I can do about that. And what if I could? Should I argue with society’s perceptions just because they’re unfair? Because, somehow, in there, when I’m righteously indignant because my child will always be considered by strangers to be different from her mother, I’m teaching her that being white, if I’m angry because she’s not, is being better.

I’ve never thought that, so why would I want her to think that? She could look like anything and still be perfect.

Anyone could look like anything and still be perfect.

In the end, that’s what it’s all about. People who are ashamed of themselves don’t rise up and demand their due. If you believe that I am better than you, you won’t turn against me.

I’m not better than anyone. And no one else is, either. And no one ever has been.

So this is why, I think, black people are so proud of Obama, why they loved Dr. King so much. Because these were people who never thought that they weren’t good enough, due to their race, for the task ahead of them. Because these are people who said, “we can do this, too.” And that’s more valuable than whether or not your agenda is served. Having someone who can make you feel proud of who and what you are, after centuries of being made to feel ashamed.

So this is why it’s just wrong that white people want to try and take that away with Obama because his mother was white. Like we haven’t had 43 other presidents who were white.

So how about you let him be black. Don’t change the rules that you made now just because they finally did something in someone else’s favor.

There is no way to take race out of it, because race still matters to a lot of people. Anyone who says that race doesn’t matter either doesn’t have to deal with the subject on a regular basis or is ridiculously idealistic about society as a whole. Because the question is not whether it matters to you, personally, to one person. The question is whether it still matters to our general societal consciousness, and it does.

And why does it? Because, as much as we like to pretend that slavery and segregation are ancient history, they are not. Segregation happened during my parents’ lifetimes. That’s not forever ago. That’s yesterday. And it didn’t just magically disappear. People had to fight for it. It took years, and many people died or were injured, during the struggle. Despite all of that, there are still people who wish it didn’t happen. Or don’t care that it did. Who still hate the dark-skinned other. Or maybe just find them distasteful. It’s all a matter of perspective, after all.

Our shared experience? It’s built from the blood, sweat, tears, and toil of many generations of stolen Africans. Badly paid and universally scorned Chinese and Irish immigrant workers. Displaced Mexicans and slaughtered Native Americans in the way of our land-grab. Our shared experience is that we stood by and watched while those on high committed atrocities in our name, hoping that some of the wealth it gathered would trickle down to us.

Our destiny was manifest. It couldn’t be stopped.

There is no way to undo all of that. And who are we to command anyone to move on? To get over it in the name of progress?

So you can not care if someone is black or not, Hispanic or not, Asian or not, and that’s commendable, but not knowing why it matters? That’s naive, at best, dangerously stupid at worst.

Those who forget history are doomed to repeat it.

Or, in the words of the cylons, “All of this has happened before and will happen again.”