There's a girl I have a few classes with. We're friends, or at least I like to think so. She's got an Inuit name and Bolivian blood. Figure that out.
So this gal and I were talking today after we discussed the Jonestown cult as an example of extreme social influence. I commented on how disappointing it was that we, the proclaimed leader of the free world, still had a good number of people who belonged to cults just like the Jonestown folks. Ibalu (that's her name, pronounced EE-ba-loo) offered up the position that maintstream religions started out as cults, and I think she argued that they were about on par with cults as well. That's very debatable, but beside the point here.
I suggested that the credibility of cults is much less than that of mainstream religions because of how widespread and "common sense" mainstream religions are compared to cults, which are many times smaller (not not necessarily based on any stranger beliefs than mainstream religions).
One way or another we got to talking about morality and education. How the two are intertwined, specifically. I asked her if education should entertain moral bias and she said no with good reason. After all, if you get education with bias, then you don't get the full picture. However, I said that not teaching education with common societal morals involved wasn't the way to go. Either way, we were trying to achieve the same means, just to a different end.
Consider her viewpoint. If we don't add morals with teachings, then that creates a relatively amoral (not immoral) society in which nothing has moral value--a nihilist society really. Therefore, Nazis would simply be taught as being Nazis, not being good or bad people, but simply belonging to the party they did and doing what they did. This is in contrast to the morals we teach about oppression and racism, using the Nazis as an example of bad guys. However, attempting truly objective education is admirable in that it doesn't allow for poisonous bias.
That's where my viewpoint fails. Adding morals to teachings means that there's bias involved, and that hasn't always worked out in the course of history. While morals attached to teachings further socialize us for the common good (such as teaching Nazis were bad for what they did), it can go awry. For examples, see the Middle East. See what I did there?
Like I said, the both of us were trying to do the same thing, and that was figure out what role morals played in education. See now, this is why I like Ibalu (as a friend mind you, she's pretty and sweet but she's married you know). We can talk about intellectual stuff just as well as we can shoot the breeze about banal things. I need to find more people like that, because most of my other friends have no concern with politics or religion or any of that jazz, like my hot model friend.
"Ignorance is bliss" and "knowledge is a burden" are certainly two sayings I can agree with on a regular basis, especially when it comes to politics. My model friend couldn't be bothered with them, and I kind of envy that carefree mindset. Having become as involved as I am in politics and religious debate, I can't give them up, they're too interesting to me. But her? Nah, no problem, got other things to worry about. Good for her really, but it's also a little disappointing for me.
I wouldn't mind disinterest in politics if they didn't affect all our lives. This healthcare debate is a prime example of that. The policies being argued about in this debate are so monumental regarding how we will support ourselves and our children with health insurance. Even now my friend is able to stay on her parents' insurance until age 26 thanks to health care reform. Otherwise, she would be on her own now.
So I'm not knocking her, but I'm trying to get across why I care about politics so much and why I love Ibalu. Well, not love her love her, but you get it. Look, I'm tired, it's 1:40 in the morning.
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
My Job Again
Right now I'm working Gates shift.
I didn't mention that during this shift, I get to look into car headlights for a solid amount of time. I wouldn't be annoyed by this if there wasn't a sign in front of the gatehouse that said in nice big letters "PLEASE DIM LIGHTS."
I hate when they don't dim their lights. Whenever they do I get all giddy.
10:18PM
A guy comes through going to some place or another. He doesn't have a university ID so I record his vehicle and license info. Upon inspecting his license plate, I see "TRANCE" staring me in the face. I can't say it worked, but I was momentarily stunned.
10:31PM
A guy comes through to pick up his girlfriend at the campus's performing arts center. I make a joke, saying I've always wanted to date an actress (not true). He laughs and says she's more of a behind-the-scenes worker. I say I've always wanted to date a girl who knows actresses. He laughs at that too. I'm so witty.
10:35PM
I have the thought, drinking some water, that technology is awesome. I have mixed with my water an powder that has given the aforementioned water the flavor of cherry limeade to a certain extent. I love the flavor and it makes me drink more water, which is a good thing to do because...well, it's water. At the same time, this powdered mix contains chemicals that have absolutely zero adverse effects on me and it is free of calories, sugar, and so on. It is something that completely 100% advantageous. There is absolutely no setback or damage of any kind from this powdered drink mix. Doesn't that seem rare? Almost everything we deal with has a yin to its yang, but not this son of a bitch.
10:55PM
Another pretty girl comes through. I admit, I take a long enough look at their ID to get their name so I can look them up on Facebook. Is this weird, or smart? Also, I'm laughing my ass off to Danny Dodge's cover of "Friday". I love it.
11:00PM
A car passes through with the driver in a light blue hoodie, hair obscured, but I see their bangs. They show me their ID and I say "Have a good night miss." As the words form in my head and leave out the mouth, a fear stabs me: I can't honestly tell if it's a chick or a dude. Oh no. I cross mentally my fingers as they accelerate, when they look at me and say, "Wait...'miss'?"
Damnit. I yell out "I'm sorry!" as they drive away, laughing. Darn womanly dudes always mixing me up. Perhaps I should stop using "sir" and "miss" anyway, all these people are my age.
11:11PM
Oh sweet baby Jesus, I memorized a girl's name and looked her up on Facebook, getting my first match of the night. I say aloud, "Bingo," then laugh at how automatic it was for me to say that, even before I realized I said it. I'm terrible.
11:26PM
A delivery guy comes through. Delivery folk are allowed in without showing ID, along with state vehicles, emergency vehicles, and buses. He don't speak English too good, but nonetheless I go for my favorite joke. He says he's delivery, and so I ask him, as I do almost every deliveryman, "Can I have some?" He gets it and plays into it, rummaging around a bit for something to give me. I break it off before it goes from funny to awkward, laughing and telling him I'm just kidding and to have a good night. He gives a good, genuine laugh before driving off. I love that joke.
11:47PM
I'm editing a script I'm writing. I stopped writing it to do a full plot synopsis first to guide me. Now that I go over my jokes in the script and laugh at them, I don't know if I'm funny or just self-involved.
12:21AM
A Foot Patrol unit is walking up to my gatehouse. It's kind of funny, them walking in the middle of the road like heroes out of a movie, but at the same time being simple Student Police Aides like me. Previously they saw some kids crossing the intersection a couple hundred feet in front of me and figured they were entering the woods across the way in order to smoke pot, as kids have been caught there before doing that very thing. Some police units went with them to check it out and took over from there. Foot Patrol isn't sure of what happened to this kids but the police radioed that they had been sent on their way. No clue as to whether or not they received a citation.
1:18AM
I love Scrubs.
2:20AM
The "PLEASE DIM LIGHTS" sign decided to migrate to the center of the road, thanks to the wind propelling it forward. It keeps inching away like it's trying to escape. Annoying bastard. I have nothing to weight it down with.
2:40AM
Gonna pack up and head in now. I hope you enjoyed this mini diary.
I didn't mention that during this shift, I get to look into car headlights for a solid amount of time. I wouldn't be annoyed by this if there wasn't a sign in front of the gatehouse that said in nice big letters "PLEASE DIM LIGHTS."
I hate when they don't dim their lights. Whenever they do I get all giddy.
10:18PM
A guy comes through going to some place or another. He doesn't have a university ID so I record his vehicle and license info. Upon inspecting his license plate, I see "TRANCE" staring me in the face. I can't say it worked, but I was momentarily stunned.
10:31PM
A guy comes through to pick up his girlfriend at the campus's performing arts center. I make a joke, saying I've always wanted to date an actress (not true). He laughs and says she's more of a behind-the-scenes worker. I say I've always wanted to date a girl who knows actresses. He laughs at that too. I'm so witty.
10:35PM
I have the thought, drinking some water, that technology is awesome. I have mixed with my water an powder that has given the aforementioned water the flavor of cherry limeade to a certain extent. I love the flavor and it makes me drink more water, which is a good thing to do because...well, it's water. At the same time, this powdered mix contains chemicals that have absolutely zero adverse effects on me and it is free of calories, sugar, and so on. It is something that completely 100% advantageous. There is absolutely no setback or damage of any kind from this powdered drink mix. Doesn't that seem rare? Almost everything we deal with has a yin to its yang, but not this son of a bitch.
10:55PM
Another pretty girl comes through. I admit, I take a long enough look at their ID to get their name so I can look them up on Facebook. Is this weird, or smart? Also, I'm laughing my ass off to Danny Dodge's cover of "Friday". I love it.
11:00PM
A car passes through with the driver in a light blue hoodie, hair obscured, but I see their bangs. They show me their ID and I say "Have a good night miss." As the words form in my head and leave out the mouth, a fear stabs me: I can't honestly tell if it's a chick or a dude. Oh no. I cross mentally my fingers as they accelerate, when they look at me and say, "Wait...'miss'?"
Damnit. I yell out "I'm sorry!" as they drive away, laughing. Darn womanly dudes always mixing me up. Perhaps I should stop using "sir" and "miss" anyway, all these people are my age.
11:11PM
Oh sweet baby Jesus, I memorized a girl's name and looked her up on Facebook, getting my first match of the night. I say aloud, "Bingo," then laugh at how automatic it was for me to say that, even before I realized I said it. I'm terrible.
11:26PM
A delivery guy comes through. Delivery folk are allowed in without showing ID, along with state vehicles, emergency vehicles, and buses. He don't speak English too good, but nonetheless I go for my favorite joke. He says he's delivery, and so I ask him, as I do almost every deliveryman, "Can I have some?" He gets it and plays into it, rummaging around a bit for something to give me. I break it off before it goes from funny to awkward, laughing and telling him I'm just kidding and to have a good night. He gives a good, genuine laugh before driving off. I love that joke.
11:47PM
I'm editing a script I'm writing. I stopped writing it to do a full plot synopsis first to guide me. Now that I go over my jokes in the script and laugh at them, I don't know if I'm funny or just self-involved.
12:21AM
A Foot Patrol unit is walking up to my gatehouse. It's kind of funny, them walking in the middle of the road like heroes out of a movie, but at the same time being simple Student Police Aides like me. Previously they saw some kids crossing the intersection a couple hundred feet in front of me and figured they were entering the woods across the way in order to smoke pot, as kids have been caught there before doing that very thing. Some police units went with them to check it out and took over from there. Foot Patrol isn't sure of what happened to this kids but the police radioed that they had been sent on their way. No clue as to whether or not they received a citation.
1:18AM
I love Scrubs.
2:20AM
The "PLEASE DIM LIGHTS" sign decided to migrate to the center of the road, thanks to the wind propelling it forward. It keeps inching away like it's trying to escape. Annoying bastard. I have nothing to weight it down with.
2:40AM
Gonna pack up and head in now. I hope you enjoyed this mini diary.
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Lazy Sunday
It literally is a lazy Sunday, but in a few ways it's more dreary than it is lazy. Overcast, 56 degrees F, José González's cover of Teadrop playing through my laptop's cruddy speakers...you know.
This weekend I participated in an event called Staff Training Weekend for a 10-day event that will be taking place in the summer called Tri-Wing Encampment. This event is essentially a boot camp for Civil Air Patrol cadets. Last year I went to Encampment as a First Sergeant, which meant I oversaw two Flight Sergeants while acting as the embodiment of fear and discipline to our thirty-something cadets.
This year I applied for a similar position. You see, there are two kinds of staff: line staff and executive staff. Line staff consists of those who directly oversee and train the cadets. They are flight sergeants, flight commanders, first sergeants, and squadron commanders. Then there's executive staff, which equates to "support staff." Exec staff handles all the things behind the scenes to make sure line staff can function.
I've always been a line staff kind of guy. I'd like to think I was a good First Sergeant judging by the outcome of my squadron last year, and so this year, as I said, I applied for a similar position. I really didn't care to be exec staff at all.
Well, I got put on exec staff. Not even close to what I applied and worked for. They put me in charge of Logistics, which means I'm in charge of making sure everyone has and gets what they need to do things. We'll be working closely with Mess Operations (who have named themselves "Call of Duty: Mess Ops") to ensure that food is on time and in good supply.
Fuck. Whatever. I'll do my job. I wasn't even close to wanting it, but I'll do it because this will be my last Encampment as a cadet and I'll go ahead and see what it's like. Staff Training Weekend wasn't wonderfully encouraging though.
I arrive on Friday night and do the whole meet and greet, talking with other NCOs (non-commissioned officers) and officers. Mostly everyone is pretty likable, but I have a problem child under my command. Let's call him Captain Hannibal Lecter.
I'm in charge of Logistics and Capt. Lecter is under my command along with a Lieutenant who is from my home squadron, so we already get along well. Upon meeting Capt. Lecter, I begin to see problems arising. Capt. Lecter doesn't like to talk, he just likes to stand in the corner, stare, and smile. Within the first few hours of meeting him I was slightly afraid he was going to stab me to death in the middle of the night. Thankfully, he didn't, but that doesn't mean everything was peachy from there, although generally when you're not getting stabbed, things are likely going well.
The entirety of the next day, Capt. Lecter spends his time deliberately trying to be alone. He sits in his room when I'm trying to get Logistics to work with Mess Ops, he intentionally lags behind everyone when we're going somewhere, and I swear to you, the whole time he don't speak more than a full paragraph of words to me.
Worse than that, he goes out of his way to avoid duty. He even becomes insubordinate. At one point I decide to get him to do something since all he's been doing has been self-serving, so I tell him to vacuum a hallway because I did the other one and we need to clean up where we were staying because it's an Army base and we should leave it as we found it, if not in better condition, because the Army is letting us use the complex essentially for free.
Anyway, I tell him to vacuum the hallway, I give him the vacuum and then I go to do something, trusting he'll do the job. I come back a few minutes later to find a Sergeant--let's call him Sgt. Wiggly since he moves around a lot--from Mess Ops vacuuming. I ask him why he's doing it and he tells me Capt. Lecter ordered him to vacuum the hallway.
Hell. Fucking. No.
That shit don't fly with me. I gave Capt. Lecter an order and he is to follow it, not order someone outside his chain of command (although a Captain, he has no authority over someone in Mess Ops). I tell Wiggly to stop, I go find Lecter, and then I get him back on it. Then I take a chair and sit down at the end of the hallway to watch him clean.
Should I really have to do that? No. That's bullshit, and I gotta deal with this kid. Let's not even mention (or let's, actually, since I'm writing it) that I ask him questions three or four times and he doesn't even answer, which is outright disrespect, his little "lone wolf" game is exactly what we don't need in an environment that requires communication and teamwork.
After talking with a senior member who held a class about approaching and interacting with cadets when they aren't subordinate or when they are having problems, I started to think I was perhaps approaching Capt. Lecter in a manner that was too authoritative and abrasive. After all, I was frustrated with him. So, I decided to go at him nice and easy, asking him simple questions like what his favorite color was and all that, just as simple, goofy conversation. He didn't really answer any of them. I told him that I want to be able to work with him so if there was anything I could do to facilitate a good relationship between the both of us, he could tell me. He nodded. Again, didn't say anything, but I think it was a step.
I can't wait to work with this pain in the ass. How he managed to rank up to Captain is beyond me.
Then there's Lieutenant Loudmouth. I met Lt. Loudmouth at Staff Selection Day, which was the day where those who applied for Encampment positions got to try to prove they were worth them. Overall, Loudmouth is a funny guy, but he is ten times more irritating than he is worthwhile. He's actually the guy from a previous post who said he had a Harley, but it was actually his father's.
Well this guy is definitely a class clown type, but he's hardly funny most of the time. He can make some really good cracks, but often he's just trying to seek attention. He likes to sing cliche, overused tunes like "Don't Stop Believing" or "Another Brick in the Wall" to try to seem funny, even though he doesn't know any of the lyrics usually. He's also very insulting. He missed the night of Staff Training Weekend because he was at prom but texted me as a joke that he was kicked out of Civil Air Patrol. I wish he was.
He shows up the next morning and they first thing he says to me is, "I wasn't kicked out ya dumbass," like that's some kind of funny thing to say. Fuck you, asshole. Then he starts going after me because I ask if anyone has any moisturizer because my face is dry. Look motherfucker, my face is dry, it's uncomfortable, and I use moisturizer to make that go away. There's nothing feminine or gay about it, and even if there was, I don't care, I don't like having a dry face.
I learn later that he is going to be a Flight Commander at Encampment, the exact position I wanted. That's bullshit. A staff member from Administration tells me he was a Flight Sergeant one year and did horribly. That gives me some comfort, knowing I'd probably do better than him. I just wish I had gotten his job.
Oh well. At least pretty much everyone else on staff this year seems alright.
This weekend I participated in an event called Staff Training Weekend for a 10-day event that will be taking place in the summer called Tri-Wing Encampment. This event is essentially a boot camp for Civil Air Patrol cadets. Last year I went to Encampment as a First Sergeant, which meant I oversaw two Flight Sergeants while acting as the embodiment of fear and discipline to our thirty-something cadets.
This year I applied for a similar position. You see, there are two kinds of staff: line staff and executive staff. Line staff consists of those who directly oversee and train the cadets. They are flight sergeants, flight commanders, first sergeants, and squadron commanders. Then there's executive staff, which equates to "support staff." Exec staff handles all the things behind the scenes to make sure line staff can function.
I've always been a line staff kind of guy. I'd like to think I was a good First Sergeant judging by the outcome of my squadron last year, and so this year, as I said, I applied for a similar position. I really didn't care to be exec staff at all.
Well, I got put on exec staff. Not even close to what I applied and worked for. They put me in charge of Logistics, which means I'm in charge of making sure everyone has and gets what they need to do things. We'll be working closely with Mess Operations (who have named themselves "Call of Duty: Mess Ops") to ensure that food is on time and in good supply.
Fuck. Whatever. I'll do my job. I wasn't even close to wanting it, but I'll do it because this will be my last Encampment as a cadet and I'll go ahead and see what it's like. Staff Training Weekend wasn't wonderfully encouraging though.
I arrive on Friday night and do the whole meet and greet, talking with other NCOs (non-commissioned officers) and officers. Mostly everyone is pretty likable, but I have a problem child under my command. Let's call him Captain Hannibal Lecter.
I'm in charge of Logistics and Capt. Lecter is under my command along with a Lieutenant who is from my home squadron, so we already get along well. Upon meeting Capt. Lecter, I begin to see problems arising. Capt. Lecter doesn't like to talk, he just likes to stand in the corner, stare, and smile. Within the first few hours of meeting him I was slightly afraid he was going to stab me to death in the middle of the night. Thankfully, he didn't, but that doesn't mean everything was peachy from there, although generally when you're not getting stabbed, things are likely going well.
The entirety of the next day, Capt. Lecter spends his time deliberately trying to be alone. He sits in his room when I'm trying to get Logistics to work with Mess Ops, he intentionally lags behind everyone when we're going somewhere, and I swear to you, the whole time he don't speak more than a full paragraph of words to me.
Worse than that, he goes out of his way to avoid duty. He even becomes insubordinate. At one point I decide to get him to do something since all he's been doing has been self-serving, so I tell him to vacuum a hallway because I did the other one and we need to clean up where we were staying because it's an Army base and we should leave it as we found it, if not in better condition, because the Army is letting us use the complex essentially for free.
Anyway, I tell him to vacuum the hallway, I give him the vacuum and then I go to do something, trusting he'll do the job. I come back a few minutes later to find a Sergeant--let's call him Sgt. Wiggly since he moves around a lot--from Mess Ops vacuuming. I ask him why he's doing it and he tells me Capt. Lecter ordered him to vacuum the hallway.
Hell. Fucking. No.
That shit don't fly with me. I gave Capt. Lecter an order and he is to follow it, not order someone outside his chain of command (although a Captain, he has no authority over someone in Mess Ops). I tell Wiggly to stop, I go find Lecter, and then I get him back on it. Then I take a chair and sit down at the end of the hallway to watch him clean.
Should I really have to do that? No. That's bullshit, and I gotta deal with this kid. Let's not even mention (or let's, actually, since I'm writing it) that I ask him questions three or four times and he doesn't even answer, which is outright disrespect, his little "lone wolf" game is exactly what we don't need in an environment that requires communication and teamwork.
After talking with a senior member who held a class about approaching and interacting with cadets when they aren't subordinate or when they are having problems, I started to think I was perhaps approaching Capt. Lecter in a manner that was too authoritative and abrasive. After all, I was frustrated with him. So, I decided to go at him nice and easy, asking him simple questions like what his favorite color was and all that, just as simple, goofy conversation. He didn't really answer any of them. I told him that I want to be able to work with him so if there was anything I could do to facilitate a good relationship between the both of us, he could tell me. He nodded. Again, didn't say anything, but I think it was a step.
I can't wait to work with this pain in the ass. How he managed to rank up to Captain is beyond me.
Then there's Lieutenant Loudmouth. I met Lt. Loudmouth at Staff Selection Day, which was the day where those who applied for Encampment positions got to try to prove they were worth them. Overall, Loudmouth is a funny guy, but he is ten times more irritating than he is worthwhile. He's actually the guy from a previous post who said he had a Harley, but it was actually his father's.
Well this guy is definitely a class clown type, but he's hardly funny most of the time. He can make some really good cracks, but often he's just trying to seek attention. He likes to sing cliche, overused tunes like "Don't Stop Believing" or "Another Brick in the Wall" to try to seem funny, even though he doesn't know any of the lyrics usually. He's also very insulting. He missed the night of Staff Training Weekend because he was at prom but texted me as a joke that he was kicked out of Civil Air Patrol. I wish he was.
He shows up the next morning and they first thing he says to me is, "I wasn't kicked out ya dumbass," like that's some kind of funny thing to say. Fuck you, asshole. Then he starts going after me because I ask if anyone has any moisturizer because my face is dry. Look motherfucker, my face is dry, it's uncomfortable, and I use moisturizer to make that go away. There's nothing feminine or gay about it, and even if there was, I don't care, I don't like having a dry face.
I learn later that he is going to be a Flight Commander at Encampment, the exact position I wanted. That's bullshit. A staff member from Administration tells me he was a Flight Sergeant one year and did horribly. That gives me some comfort, knowing I'd probably do better than him. I just wish I had gotten his job.
Oh well. At least pretty much everyone else on staff this year seems alright.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
OMFS!!!!1
Last night was awesome. I don't even know how to start it. Long story short, I met one of my idols: world famous evolutionary biologist Richard Dawkins. Holy shit.
This guy is known and wanted internationally for his knowledge and secularist ideals. I love this guy, and last night I actually met him.
He came to my college's campus for a public interview and I got tickets, one for me and one for my buddy Thomas. Tom and I share Dawkins as a personal hero, so we get along well because of that. He's also an atheist and he's a fun guy, so we share at least the former attribute. Very finally, he's black, which is great because I don't have many black friends. Don't ask me why.
Anyway, I got him a ticket as well but between you and me, it fell out of my pocket they day I got it. So, between you and me, I took my ticket, scanned it, and made a counterfeit to replace the one I lost. I hope nobody gets me into any trouble because of this. Although I faked one, it was essentially a replacement and not an extra one, and I certainly didn't make a profit off it. It was for Tom.
Anyway Tom and I get there and we get good seats despite misinformation about where the event was, and then the man comes into the room. I'll be honest, I wanted to squeal like a I was a teenage girl in the 60's meeting the Beatles. I was actually, literally, entirely in person, looking at Richard Dawkins, watching him walk to the stage, get up on it, stand for a second, smiling, and then sit down.
And then I heard his voice. Holy shitballs, I heard his voice, IN REAL LIFE! And then, and then--this is probably the most amazing part--I got to talk to him. Not just talk to him, I got to ask him a question. I tell you, the whole time I was waiting to get to the microphone set out for questions from the audience, my heart was pounding. I literally could not stand still. I kept shifting my weight and looking around, practicing what I'd say in my head. I like to think I pulled it off well. I sez to him, I sez:
"Professor Dawkins, I first want to say you're a huge inspiration to me and I really enjoy watching you on Youtube--" [pause for laughter] "and I would like to ask you 'what is your favorite color?' and 'what are your thoughts or viewpoints regarding evolutionary biology and the presence of homosexuality in humans and others animals?'"
Then he answered that, but then I forgot what he said because I was so excited to been talking directly to him and him talking directly to me. Good thing I recorded the whole thing. Then after he gave his answer, I said "Thank you, keep on truckin'," and peaced out. I felt real good about that.
Then he signed my book AND my bud Thomas got a terribly blurry picture of me standing in front of him. I wish he had had the time to shake my hand but they were moving people through real quick. It's a pity he was too busy to talk even. Nonetheless, I saw, listened to, spoke to, and got my book signed by one of my heroes. I gotta tell you, I'm lucky to have seen some of the people I have, Dawkins being the second person from the Internet in particular. The first was Matt Dillahunty, whose hand I did shake.
I don't know what else to say, all that just made me so happy.
This guy is known and wanted internationally for his knowledge and secularist ideals. I love this guy, and last night I actually met him.
He came to my college's campus for a public interview and I got tickets, one for me and one for my buddy Thomas. Tom and I share Dawkins as a personal hero, so we get along well because of that. He's also an atheist and he's a fun guy, so we share at least the former attribute. Very finally, he's black, which is great because I don't have many black friends. Don't ask me why.
Anyway, I got him a ticket as well but between you and me, it fell out of my pocket they day I got it. So, between you and me, I took my ticket, scanned it, and made a counterfeit to replace the one I lost. I hope nobody gets me into any trouble because of this. Although I faked one, it was essentially a replacement and not an extra one, and I certainly didn't make a profit off it. It was for Tom.
Anyway Tom and I get there and we get good seats despite misinformation about where the event was, and then the man comes into the room. I'll be honest, I wanted to squeal like a I was a teenage girl in the 60's meeting the Beatles. I was actually, literally, entirely in person, looking at Richard Dawkins, watching him walk to the stage, get up on it, stand for a second, smiling, and then sit down.
And then I heard his voice. Holy shitballs, I heard his voice, IN REAL LIFE! And then, and then--this is probably the most amazing part--I got to talk to him. Not just talk to him, I got to ask him a question. I tell you, the whole time I was waiting to get to the microphone set out for questions from the audience, my heart was pounding. I literally could not stand still. I kept shifting my weight and looking around, practicing what I'd say in my head. I like to think I pulled it off well. I sez to him, I sez:
"Professor Dawkins, I first want to say you're a huge inspiration to me and I really enjoy watching you on Youtube--" [pause for laughter] "and I would like to ask you 'what is your favorite color?' and 'what are your thoughts or viewpoints regarding evolutionary biology and the presence of homosexuality in humans and others animals?'"
Then he answered that, but then I forgot what he said because I was so excited to been talking directly to him and him talking directly to me. Good thing I recorded the whole thing. Then after he gave his answer, I said "Thank you, keep on truckin'," and peaced out. I felt real good about that.
Then he signed my book AND my bud Thomas got a terribly blurry picture of me standing in front of him. I wish he had had the time to shake my hand but they were moving people through real quick. It's a pity he was too busy to talk even. Nonetheless, I saw, listened to, spoke to, and got my book signed by one of my heroes. I gotta tell you, I'm lucky to have seen some of the people I have, Dawkins being the second person from the Internet in particular. The first was Matt Dillahunty, whose hand I did shake.
I don't know what else to say, all that just made me so happy.
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Culturally Sponsored Racism
In America we value diversity and that two-faced word "multiculturalism." On one hand (and what a great hand it is), this has greatly contributed the "melting pot" that America has often been called. Appreciation of diversity and uniqueness, especially racial uniqueness, has made this country a beacon of hope and freedom to the entire world. Now I'm not saying we're the only beacon, but we might as well have been the first and brightest.
However, multiculturalism has also bred tolerance to the point of submission in several cases, the most prominent being the invention of Islamophobia when there is no such thing. But I'm not writing this to talk about that...yet.
Talking with an Indian friend of mine recently, I became, for the umpteenth time, frustrated that a great majority of Indians have no intention of branching out from their closed-minded and archaic culture. They would much rather prefer to live a purely Indian life, even to the point of only dating/marrying not just other Indians, but other Indians from the same province as their family. This is wholly unacceptable.
What if whites decided that only whites should marry or date whites, and not just that, but only whites from Rhode Island can date/marry whites from Rhode Island? Does this make sense to anyone? No, because it's fucking racist, and that's exactly what Indian culture is. It's one thing to like Indian food, practice an Indian religion, wear Indian clothes, speak an Indian language, or even be brainwashed into a paternal idea of original sin by one's parents, but it's a whole other thing to suggest that just because someone is not of the same race as you, they are too inferior to be considered for a romantic relationship.
Please, nobody try to argue that it's not inferiority, but simply difference. The difference is in the color of the skin, and it assumes that only those of the same skin are worthy of romantic endeavors. Therefore, those of a different skin are unworthy. Therefore, those of a different skin are inferior.
Additionally, the idea of restricting oneself to their own race is completely defying one's ability to be happy. There are about 7 billion people in the world. There are 1.2 billion in India. Let's assume that the sexes are split 50/50. Therefore, an Indian assumes that the person (of the opposite sex) who is to be the love of their life resides within 8% of the world's population. Does anyone else see that as fucking stupid? Why not judge someone based on their character and not whether or not they're of your race?
Let's be clear that I don't hate Indians, I'm not racist, nothing crazy like that. I just hate closed-minded, stupid thinking, especially when it continues to exist in this day and age. I love Indian food and language, and I love the women--god I love the women--and I have a number of swell Indian friends, but this is unacceptable thinking. What is it other than racism? Please, try to defend it. If you think they're concerned about blending too much with other cultures and losing theirs, I should remind you they account for almost 20% of the world's population dammit.
Seriously though, I love Indian women and this is very frustrating to deal with.
However, multiculturalism has also bred tolerance to the point of submission in several cases, the most prominent being the invention of Islamophobia when there is no such thing. But I'm not writing this to talk about that...yet.
Talking with an Indian friend of mine recently, I became, for the umpteenth time, frustrated that a great majority of Indians have no intention of branching out from their closed-minded and archaic culture. They would much rather prefer to live a purely Indian life, even to the point of only dating/marrying not just other Indians, but other Indians from the same province as their family. This is wholly unacceptable.
What if whites decided that only whites should marry or date whites, and not just that, but only whites from Rhode Island can date/marry whites from Rhode Island? Does this make sense to anyone? No, because it's fucking racist, and that's exactly what Indian culture is. It's one thing to like Indian food, practice an Indian religion, wear Indian clothes, speak an Indian language, or even be brainwashed into a paternal idea of original sin by one's parents, but it's a whole other thing to suggest that just because someone is not of the same race as you, they are too inferior to be considered for a romantic relationship.
Please, nobody try to argue that it's not inferiority, but simply difference. The difference is in the color of the skin, and it assumes that only those of the same skin are worthy of romantic endeavors. Therefore, those of a different skin are unworthy. Therefore, those of a different skin are inferior.
Additionally, the idea of restricting oneself to their own race is completely defying one's ability to be happy. There are about 7 billion people in the world. There are 1.2 billion in India. Let's assume that the sexes are split 50/50. Therefore, an Indian assumes that the person (of the opposite sex) who is to be the love of their life resides within 8% of the world's population. Does anyone else see that as fucking stupid? Why not judge someone based on their character and not whether or not they're of your race?
Let's be clear that I don't hate Indians, I'm not racist, nothing crazy like that. I just hate closed-minded, stupid thinking, especially when it continues to exist in this day and age. I love Indian food and language, and I love the women--god I love the women--and I have a number of swell Indian friends, but this is unacceptable thinking. What is it other than racism? Please, try to defend it. If you think they're concerned about blending too much with other cultures and losing theirs, I should remind you they account for almost 20% of the world's population dammit.
Seriously though, I love Indian women and this is very frustrating to deal with.
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| I love Archie Panjabi. |
On a Scale from One to Sanitary...
...is what I heard one student ask another in the hallway today. What does it all mean?!
Yesterday, in all its glorious weather, I was bombarded by a number of thoughts and happenings that I just have to share.
First off, yesterday I think I learned more about military sociology in my one class that day than the entire semester. Seriously, the entire semester has been almost a complete reiteration of everything I already know about the military. Things most people know actually. For example, we learned for a week about how the military stresses the family. No shit? Of course it does.
Yesterday we learned about troop cohesion in combat. It's truly an interesting question: Why do soldiers fight? They face nameless, often faceless opponents who are trying to kill them. Why not try to make peace or simply run away?
We'd all like to think that soldiers fight for the greater good. Truth is, soldiers almost never fight for an ideology, but for their fellow soldiers. The biggest reason they fight is because of the bond they make with those they serve with. That seems kind of obvious, but when I was younger I was convinced Allied troops fought in World War II because of the noble fight against tyranny. That may have been a reason for why they enlisted, but overwhelming evidence in every conflict (including World War II) demonstrates that ideology quickly took a backseat to camaraderie. The viewpoint I once held is nicely satirized in this clip from the Band of Brothers miniseries:
But wait, there's more! Cohesion was affected by homogeneity--that is, the more similar soldiers were to one another, the more likely they were to form strong bonds. This is exemplified in Nazi Germany's creation of military units, which at times took entire towns and villages and made them into troop divisions, and someone like the mayor would be appointed as the division commander. This meant that everyone was serving with those they grew up with: classmates, friends, employers and employees, and even family. As a result, these units continued to fight even when Germany was clearly losing the war, and they kept fighting for two reasons:
1) they wanted to support those they cared for, and 2) they did not want to be shamed as a coward in front of everyone for not wanting to fight.
As the numbers dwindled in these combat units, unfamiliar replacements, generally very young and old men, began to break down the homogeneity, and this is when German combat units started giving up more easily. There was hardly anyone left worth fighting for. I mean, look at Fritz there, he's so old he's using his rifle as a fucking walking stick. Screw this war, I quit.
The funny thing about all this is that when the US Government researched the effectiveness of racially integrated versus segregated combat units, the integrated units did better. I didn't write down why exactly that was, but that's the truth. It is very much worth mentioning, however, that being the same race or from the same general location weren't the only factors in homogeneity. For example, in the Vietnam War, black and white soldiers bonded very strongly based on an anti-establishment, drug-based subculture in contrast to the upper class, clean cut alcohol-based officer subculture. Soldiers in Vietnam got along really well because they hated their superiors, so much in fact that there are 1,100 confirmed incidents of enlisted personnel "fragging" a superior in their chain of command. I want to emphasize the word "confirmed;" there are more than likely hundreds more incidents that went unrecorded.
That's crazy to me! Over a thousand superiors killed by their subordinates? That's pretty freaking serious. It's one thing to be insubordinate, it's another to mutiny and do temporary harm to a superior, but to kill them? And not just kill them, blow them to bits with a frag grenade or Claymore mine. That's heavy stuff man.
I wonder what my brother would have to say about this, since he's a National Guardsman who served in Afghanistan. The US military wised up after Vietnam a little bit and so I don't know how much he'd express that he bonded against superiors, but I figure he made the close ties he did for the same reasons many troops before him did. Not speaking for him, just saying.
Yesterday, in all its glorious weather, I was bombarded by a number of thoughts and happenings that I just have to share.
First off, yesterday I think I learned more about military sociology in my one class that day than the entire semester. Seriously, the entire semester has been almost a complete reiteration of everything I already know about the military. Things most people know actually. For example, we learned for a week about how the military stresses the family. No shit? Of course it does.
Yesterday we learned about troop cohesion in combat. It's truly an interesting question: Why do soldiers fight? They face nameless, often faceless opponents who are trying to kill them. Why not try to make peace or simply run away?
We'd all like to think that soldiers fight for the greater good. Truth is, soldiers almost never fight for an ideology, but for their fellow soldiers. The biggest reason they fight is because of the bond they make with those they serve with. That seems kind of obvious, but when I was younger I was convinced Allied troops fought in World War II because of the noble fight against tyranny. That may have been a reason for why they enlisted, but overwhelming evidence in every conflict (including World War II) demonstrates that ideology quickly took a backseat to camaraderie. The viewpoint I once held is nicely satirized in this clip from the Band of Brothers miniseries:
But wait, there's more! Cohesion was affected by homogeneity--that is, the more similar soldiers were to one another, the more likely they were to form strong bonds. This is exemplified in Nazi Germany's creation of military units, which at times took entire towns and villages and made them into troop divisions, and someone like the mayor would be appointed as the division commander. This meant that everyone was serving with those they grew up with: classmates, friends, employers and employees, and even family. As a result, these units continued to fight even when Germany was clearly losing the war, and they kept fighting for two reasons:
1) they wanted to support those they cared for, and 2) they did not want to be shamed as a coward in front of everyone for not wanting to fight.
As the numbers dwindled in these combat units, unfamiliar replacements, generally very young and old men, began to break down the homogeneity, and this is when German combat units started giving up more easily. There was hardly anyone left worth fighting for. I mean, look at Fritz there, he's so old he's using his rifle as a fucking walking stick. Screw this war, I quit.
The funny thing about all this is that when the US Government researched the effectiveness of racially integrated versus segregated combat units, the integrated units did better. I didn't write down why exactly that was, but that's the truth. It is very much worth mentioning, however, that being the same race or from the same general location weren't the only factors in homogeneity. For example, in the Vietnam War, black and white soldiers bonded very strongly based on an anti-establishment, drug-based subculture in contrast to the upper class, clean cut alcohol-based officer subculture. Soldiers in Vietnam got along really well because they hated their superiors, so much in fact that there are 1,100 confirmed incidents of enlisted personnel "fragging" a superior in their chain of command. I want to emphasize the word "confirmed;" there are more than likely hundreds more incidents that went unrecorded.
That's crazy to me! Over a thousand superiors killed by their subordinates? That's pretty freaking serious. It's one thing to be insubordinate, it's another to mutiny and do temporary harm to a superior, but to kill them? And not just kill them, blow them to bits with a frag grenade or Claymore mine. That's heavy stuff man.
I wonder what my brother would have to say about this, since he's a National Guardsman who served in Afghanistan. The US military wised up after Vietnam a little bit and so I don't know how much he'd express that he bonded against superiors, but I figure he made the close ties he did for the same reasons many troops before him did. Not speaking for him, just saying.
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