This Ol’ Chestnut Again…

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: I’m a White American Male. I’m racist and sexist because of how I was born and how I was raised.  I wasn’t raised to be particularly intolerant or that certain people were lesser than me, but lots of echoes of America’s Sordid Past were ever-present to shape my morality.

I was born into a culture that constantly and simultaneously taught me that women and people of color were to defer to me and if they didn’t I was allowed to get angry about it and the consequences they would face for their tresspasses would be greater than mine.

Racism and Sexism to people of color and women are systems, written into the constitution, educated into society, paid through economy, to give privilege and legal power and representation and ownership to White Men First. Steps have been taken to grant equal access to Women and People of Color and each step was met with a backlash to stymie the progress with insidious new rules and tactics.

The most insidious rule, and the fulcrum of one of my greatest and most painful paradigm shifts, was this notion that Racism and Sexism Are Attitudes Not Systems. To wit, Racism to Fragile White People (the ones that snap when you point out something they did was kinda racist) and Sexism to Fragile Men (the ones that snap when you point out something they did was kinda sexist) is when “Someone’s Who Is Not The Same Race Or Gender Made You Feel Bad”. Thus, a person of color calling me racist is “The Real Racist”. The Woman calling me Sexist is “The Real Sexist”. Anyone inferring that I might not be morally squeaky clean despite having never called anyone a horrible name (unless of course I was really angry, because then it’s okay, America said-so) is The True Bigot.

Which brings me around to my original point. I’m a bigot. I am damned intolerant to several opinions. Several of those that certain groups of people are lesser-than or need to be behind me in line. But I also have lots of deep-seated racist and sexist and homophobic and ageist and lord-knows-what-else biases that are taking time to realize and root out.

I mean, I WAS SO MAD at this woman of color in front of me in a Mercedes in a fast-food drive thru asking for a manager about $0.20 on a receipt. And OOOH, THE AMOUNT OF RACIST SEXIST VITRIOL that welled out of me like hot magma while I seethed, uncomfortable and hungry: “Why does she care?”, “She’s in a Mercedes, why is she being So Cheap?”, “Why can’t she go inside, why do I have to be be punished?” “OH HOLY SHIT SWEET JESUS IT’S TWENTY CENTS JUST MOVE. I AM GOING TO INVOKE CHRIST WHO I DON’T REALLY BELEIVE IN JUST BECAUSE IT MIGHT WRAP THIS UP SOONER!!” I had to calm myself down with stories about “Maybe she saw the cashier keyed something in wrong and she just wanted them to know?” “Maybe she just needed to double check a coupon?”

In reality, it shouldn’t have mattered. But I had a shoulder-devil going “If you honk and scream you might be able to get your food faster and you won’t get in trouble” and my shoulder-angel had to WRASSLE that sumbitch and pull some DIRTY MOVES. And don’t get me started on the fights I have with myself when I walk Cairo by certain houses in my neighborhood.

So call me a bigot. Call me racist. Call me sexist. Chances are if I am engaging you on some bigotry topic on social media I already know I am one but I’m trying to be less of one and want you to join me on that journey, and if you snap at me I’ll just know I planned my strike correctly.

They Don’t Know #085: Caffeine and Octane, Erasmus B Draggin’

Peter’s tired and flinging this one out before bed.  He takes Voicemails from Princess Honnah and @Snerbel, talks about a little car show in Atlanta, and Ru Paul’s Drag Race All Stars (conveniently placed at the end with a spoiler-wall so you can pause if you don’t want secrets to be revealed)

Podcaster Meetup Fund Vegas and Orlando both at 3% spilled over for November.  Thanks for all the feedback folks!  SmartyPig savings goals.

epilonious@gmail.com

http://www.epilonious.net

aim/yim/skype: epilonious
voicemail: (774) 377-9386

They Don’t Know 084; Petit Le Mans, Ru Pauls All Stars, Appletastic

It’s the Rupocalypse!  Peter’s recorded more than one episode in a month and has Voicemails from Princess Honnah and Laughing Buddha!  Run for your lives!  Or, just download and listen to me talk about the Petit Le Mans endurance car race at Road Atlanta in Braselton, GA… The new Apple shiny things… and Ru Paul’s Drag Race All Stars (conveniently placed at the end with a spoiler-wall so you can pause if you don’t want secrets to be revealed)

Podcaster Meetup Fund Vegas and Orlando both at 6% for October, with 1% spilled over for November.  Thanks for all the feedback folks!  SmartyPig savings goals.

epilonious@gmail.com

http://www.epilonious.net

aim/yim/skype: epilonious
voicemail: (774) 377-9386

Why I don’t like this project

I had an epiphany today about why I do not like my project.

I was the one with enough rare free time and wanted to go to one of my favorite places for carry-out lunch and I asked other people to come with me and keep me company and and help out. Alas they were too busy, but not too busy to give me food orders.

I went to “The Lime Truck” to get the food with a copy paper box lid which would help me carry it all. It was a pain covering the food in foil while balancing the drink in the upturned lid but I managed. It was a pain getting it into the car when people parked close on both sides but I managed. It was a pain getting the food into the elevator and up to the 9th floor but I managed. It was a pain getting the door leading to my office open and I didn’t manage.

The heavy auto-locking door leading into my office from the elevators slipped and smacked the food tray, causing the drink to flip up and the tray to go sideways, the drink ended up getting caught between the door and the box, crushing and spilling sticky sweet mango aloe water all over the floor and some of the food.

This all happened in front of a conference room half full of people, the conference room is walled in glass so they saw me after hearing the *smack* *crush* *spill*.

No-one came out of that room.

No-one came out to ask if I was okay.

No-one came out to help me clean all the mango-aloe shit off the floor.

They were too busy. Just like all my team was too busy to help me carry a tray of food into the office by opening doors.

They were too busy like all the people who don’t pick up the paper towels when they don’t go into the trashcan of the mens bathroom. Too busy like the people who don’t wipe off the counter after their coffee-related chemistry experiments or microwave physics experiments bubble up and blow up all over it. To busy like the people who spill drinks on the stairs where people could slip and hurt themselves.

I know this because I have cleaned up after all of them, and I’m pretty fucking busy most of the time.

I don’t like this project, because people are made to be so busy all the time that they can’t be decent human beings. It appears a majority are no longer interested in doing the right thing. Just the quick thing.