How Racist are we in the United States?

Is this doll racist?

Whether intentionally or not, I think so: it plays upon a derogatory stereotype of black people.  Without any information on the doll and what it's designers were thinking, I cannot say whether or not this was influenced by some amount of racist ideology or whether they just need someone who lives in the real world screening their ideas.

Is this picture racist?

I'm sure many if not most of you are familiar with this incident already; however, I can find no article detailing why the test "black people stole my car" appeared as a better suggestion.  We are all familiar with the stereotype that black people are criminals, and many people think that this stereotype had something to do with it.

Do you have a right to your own behavior?

Is the answer,

a) Yes!
b) No!
c) Well, within reason, I guess...
d) That's a stupid question and you're stupid for asking it!

Believe it or not, I'm going with (d).  When you think about it, what does the word "right" mean in this case?  I'll consult the dictionary to eliminate some semantics argument:

right [rahyt]
–noun
18. a just claim or title, whether legal, prescriptive, or moral: You have a right to say what you please.
19. Sometimes, rights. that which is due to anyone by just claim, legal guarantees, moral principles, etc.: women's rights; Freedom of speech is a right of all Americans.

While I do not think that people should not be able to exercise their "rights" I think the word itself is bullshit and that it encourages people to develop a mindset of entitlement.  When you have rights, you strut about with your chest puffed out, thinking "I can XXX and you can't stop me because you're not allowed!"  In all reality, many people are perfectly capable of violating your rights at any time, and just because they don't we somehow believe our rights are more secure than they really are.  Secondly, the idea of "rights" encourages the notion that these things are mandated by some power greater than ourselves.  This is not true: it is we as humans who 1) decide what our rights are, 2) work to preserve our rights, and 3) deny others whatever rights they think they should have.  Rights are a construct of mankind.  Speaking in terms of rights only clouds the true issue being discussed.

It's Time for Musical Monday!

And thus I begin what may become a tradition of posting and commenting on a particular song every Monday.  Because, let's face it, Monday is never music to our ears, so we need all the help we can get :-)

After spinning the mystical shuffle-wheel on my laundry list of songs, todays song has been picked: The Ol' Beggars Bush, by Flogging Molly, off of their album Swagger.  Posted in the widgets is the song itself, and posted below are the lyrics:

Why you should never play by the rules

            I have a friend Alex; we met freshman year of college as hallmates.  My roommate and I became good friends with each other and Alex, and so, quite naturally, Alex all but lived in our dorm room.  Alex had a funny way of showing his affection: his philosophy on friendship went something like “When you first meet someone, you act nice and see what they’re like.  Once you get to know them, you abuse them until they go away or become a good friend”.  Yes, both Adam and I were abused.

            Alex abused us each differently.  Adam, who was relatively passive and unflappable, received sporadic attacks from Alex, amounting to physical abuse (all in good fun, of course :-).  This wouldn’t have worked on me: I would have responded.  So, Alex abused me differently: he broke my mind.

            I love to debate nearly everything.  Alex found this out quickly.  At that time, however, I thought differently: you could say that my thoughts were tiny cubes, which lived in square-pegged holes.  He would engage me in debate, fill my head with nice, cubic thoughts, then proceeded to forcibly hammer cylindrical thoughts into my nice square thought holes.  In response, my mind contorted into impossible shapes, and you would be able to hear the circuits in my head fusing as smoke poured out my ears.

What do I want?

Hello all.  This is Saturday’s update, but I’m actually writing it Friday afternoon: tomorrow will be busy.  To take the heaviness of the last two posts down a notch, I want to talk about something that happens to all of us, and to me about an hour ago: I could not think of what to do.  I have reached a point of pause in a large project I am completing, and I am not scheduled for work this afternoon so my options are pretty much endless.  How is it that I could not find anything to do?

So what did I do?  Of all things, I sat down and thought about why I could think of nothing to do.  And, as it quickly became apparent, this was not at all the case: I was thinking of several things to do, and systematically rejecting them.  I thought about finding a party for tomorrow (today), but hesitated because I haven’t seen these friends for a while, I don’t like situations where I don’t know many people, and I haven’t completed my costume (out of a desire to not spend money).  I thought about working out, but I was feeling lazy.  I thought about embarking upon the next stage of the project, but I want to talk with my advisor before proceeding.  And the list goes on.