At the 20:00 mark of the latest Risk show, Kevin Allison tells a story. He used the word caucasian to describe himself. His friend, who knows about such things, said that you can’t call yourself Caucasian.
The word Caucasian is derived from the Caucasus mountains. This is a region in Asia where Armenia, Azerbaijan and Georgia exist, not always in harmony. The thinking goes that many different types of people live in this region. It is not accurate to describe people of European origin as Caucasian.
According to wikipedia, the three primary races of mankind are Caucasian, Mongoloid and Negroid. Mongoloid refers to the people of East Asian, while the Negroid people originated in sub-saharan Africa. Both Mongoloid and Negroid are considered tacky, with the latter devolving into the dreaded n-word. Maybe it is natural progress to label Caucasian as politically incorrect.
If you google the phrase “is Caucasian,” the search suggestions are a race, white, an ethnicity, racist, a culture, a color, still used. The ever trenchant Urban Dictionary says Causcasian is “A ridiculous way of saying “white person”. Used mostly by Americans.” PG finds this ironic. The first person he knew who used the c-word regularly was a Black Muslim named John Ali.
The UD has a page for something called the Caucasian Donut. “When an exceptionally large white girl finishes oral sex on another exceptionally large white boy and proceeds to collect his jizz and puts it on a pastry of her choice.” It has an ad, with the slogan Join Hillary for America.
So the c-word, in addition to being pretentious, is scientifically dubious. Most people who use it have never heard of the Caucasus mountains. But is it (cue dramatic music) Racist? This post thinks so.
“Caucasian, literally, refers to people native to the Caucasus, but it has become interchangeable with any number of ‘White’ populations, most of wh1om trace their ancestry to Europe. One gets the feeling that the term ‘White’ fell out of favor and was replaced by ‘Caucasian’ much like ‘Black’ was replaced by ‘African-American’. But the roots of such terminology are a bit disturbing; it was postulated that the natives of the Caucasus exhibited the idealized physical appearance so the Caucasus were believed to be the birthplace of mankind. The logic behind this idea — the assumption that Whites exhibit the best physical appearance — is implicitly racist. Additionally, we now know our species first appeared in Africa, so the biology isn’t any good either. The connotations of the term Caucasian along with the geographical absurdity of using that term to describe all Europeans or Whites are the two main reasons we should abandon the term.”
Pictures are from “The Special Collections and Archives, Georgia State University Library”.
The only thing you need to know is cntr + z ~ I’m sick of this country being led on the road to communism and the liberals that are helping take it there due to their immoral beliefs and selfish attitude ~ @Brimshack Calling Hillary Clinton a psycho commie doesn’t do much to tell us about HER mental state. @WiseManPhil ~ @Brimshack If you still need your college teacher to tell you to write in complete sentences, there is something about education that you don’t get. ~ @storybandit We dare you to write a 199-word story using this opening: The lady fluttered her fan. #writingdare @chamblee54 @storybandit An alternate: The lady fluffed her fan. @storybandit @chamblee54 Afraid ppl might take that alternate in a porny direction :P ~ Does habe earphones mean speak earphones? ~ Matt Walsh is an idiot working for Glenn Beck. ~ Altars manly reinstall concurrency antecedents cruelest bracket winces ~ WordXWord celebrates diversity, the creative use of language and the experience of community – using spoken word, poetry and storytelling in celebration of the individual, to bridge differences and connect people.~ @TheKevinAllison It’s so hard to tell true stories when you know the people you talk about might hear them. ~ search engine terms for chamblee54.wordpress.com today: crazy tom petty pics, dorothy kilgallen autopsy photos, depression is my nature, mary jo kopechne ~ Yes, in the early eighties I remember reading that the QWERTY keyboard was actually designed to slow peoples’ fingers down, so the machine wouldn’t jam. And that the DVORAK keyboard was designed for the opposite effect…along with, of course, a traditional Slavic feel ~ A tempestuous prisoner is forced to implicate a noncomforist convict in the theft of classified documents ~ A monopolizing green-skinned alien and a human-plant hybrid fail to escape Earth together before an environmental collapse ~ A sea nymph who can stop time for five seconds borrows a lucky necklace from an eunuch while trying to save a powerful god ~ @pourmecoffee I have a learning disability that causes me to read “An Open Letter To…” as “Stop reading now.” ~ I vote for fabulicity. The spell check suggestion is facility. ~ I posted a graphic poem. I made some changes to a picture. I decided to be adventurous and use the BBB editor to add the updated photo. I added the photo. The BBB editor said “Update made, Lookin’ Great,” or something like that. I looked at the updated post. Instead of the 720×447 size I usually use, the new picture was 300×186. That is in pixels, which I suspect the designer of the BBB editor does not know. Anyway, I went to the hassle of opening the classic editor, and added the updated picture. It was sized 720×447, as G-d intended. I probably will not make any more efforts to post with the BBB editor. ~ Mr. Stanley is also ugly. ~ ” i know where to hide the bodies.” Is that why you grew that beard? ~ We are not checking this account right now, as we are out of the country. Thank you for your patience and understanding. ~ This Dust Was Once the Man ~ @storybandit · We dare you to write a 29-word poem using the following words: scorcher, outlawed, homeschool, outplacement. #writingdare ~ I have written about this guy before. I don’t like racism, but I don’t think this person is going to help matters any. Telling people to speak out against racism sounds good in theory, but there are a few questions to ask. ~ Do you know all the facts? What if the person telling you about a racism incident is lying? Is it racism, or a personal dispute where someone chooses to make race an issue? Is it about institutional oppression, or just someone saying something inappropriate? Will your “calling out” make the situation better? Is it any of your business? ~ Dr. Martin Luther King gave a famous speech. He had a dream that people would be judged by the content of their character, and not the color of their skin. Fifty years later, an obese actor is screaming “see color motherfucker.” This is not progress. ~ So yeah, you don’t have to like racism to be put off my this guy’s act. What is amazing is how many people are impressed by it. ~ pictures from “The Special Collections and Archives, Georgia State University Library”. ~ selah
I have been dealing with the health insurance marketplace recently. The details are none of the internet’s business. The process has involved computerized forms, with a lot of questions.
One of these questions is about race. You are asked which group you belong to. There is a long list of options. I looked for white, which is what I am. Supposedly, answering this question is optional.
Why do they need this information? Isn’t America supposed to be judging people on the content of their character, rather than the color of their skin? If this information is available to the person processing the information, will it affect the way the application is processed?
This could take several forms. You could have a racist white bureaucrat making trouble for black people. You could have a prejudiced black bureaucrat making trouble for white people. The bureaucrat might have an unconscious bias. None of these scenarios are fair.
This is not an affirmative action situation. The color of your skin should not affect your ability to obtain affordable healthcare. It is time for this question to be removed from the application. Pictures today are from “The Special Collections and Archives, Georgia State University Library”.
Years ago, PG worked with someone who liked to say “and a ru hu hu.” This was shortened to ru, and was usually said very loud. Ru became a greeting.
About this time, Ru Paul was living in Atlanta. Many people remember her (“RuPaul Andre Charles, best known mononymously as RuPaul”) as a spectacular self promoter. Ru Paul would sit in an apartment balcony, and wave at cars passing by. Posters for her band, Wee Wee Pole, were on telephone poles up and down Ponce de Leon Avenue.
One night, Ru Paul was working as a gogo dancer in a club called Weekends. During a break, PG went over to talk to her. The use of ru as a greeting was mentioned. Soon, some people came over, and PG started to leave. Before PG could get away, Ru Paul turned to PG, lifted her index finger, and said “Keep on saying my name.”
Ru Paul went on to become famous. Weekends was torn down, and is the site of the Federal Reserve Bank. PG is PG, with occasional excursions into R and NC17. PG does not watch much TV, and has never seen an episode of “Ru Paul’s Drag Race.” This is a TV show about a TV.
There is a recent controversy about RPDR. It seems that the phrase shemale has been used. Some people are offended by this. The expression is no longer used on the show.
PG has only one trans person friend. Sashia is the first person that PG heard use the expression shemale. PG does not know if Sashia still uses this expression. It has been a while since PG learned this expression, and ideas about language do change. Spell check suggestion for Sashia: Hashish.
The use of offensive language is to be avoided. If you know something is going to hurt people, then you should avoid saying it. There is a good possibility that Ru Paul knew what she was doing, and just didn’t care. The problem comes when you haven’t received the latest update from the language authorities. Keeping up with with is cool to say can be a full time job. Is it still ok to say ru?
This is a double repost. Pictures from The Library of Congress. The images are of women, training to be bus drivers and taxi drivers. This was in Washington DC, November 1942. The photographer was Andreas Feininger, working for the Office of War Information. The picture of a dipstick demonstration is #8d36666.
RuPaul is no stranger to
attention being thought strange. The latest bit of publicity… there is no bad publicity, and they spell the name right … is an article in the eyeball grabbing HuffPo, RuPaul Responds To Controversy Over The Word ‘Tranny’. (Spell check suggestion: Granny) PG gave into temptation, and clicked on the link. It seems as though there was an appearance on the WTF podcast. Why settle for a sensational sample, when you can hear the entire show?
If you have an hour and twenty four minutes to spare, listen to this show. If you like, you can skip the first thirteen minutes, which is host Mark Maron talking about himself. The show is highly entertaining. A theme is that the world is the matrix, a fake construction. Some people look behind the curtain and see the wizard. Some people believe the matrix is reality. You should already know which side RuPaul takes. He was not born blonde.
The quote about the T-word comes toward the end of the show. PG has mixed feelings about the whole affair, and does not completely agree with RuPaul. However, this human being is entitled to an opinion. Even if he wasn’t, he is going to share it anyway. RuPaul does not suffer from false modesty.
For a show that gets attention about language, it is a bit strange at times. While describing his career trajectory, RuPaul says he went through a phase of “gender f-word.” The show is called WTF. Twice a week, the host says fuck a dozen times in the first sixty seconds. And RuPaul said “gender f-word.”
Even more amazingly, RuPaul said that things were “n-word rigged”. RuPaul did break down and say the ultimate dirty word. When his mother saw his act on television, she said “N****** you crazy.”
RuPaul has had quite a career. He mentions that he has been sober for fifteen years, and had some therapy to get there. This was not the case when he lived in Atlanta. Many stories from those days are in the show. The bs detector went off a couple of times. PG saw the Now Explosion, and did not remember seeing a tall black guy.
This is a rich seventy five minutes. Like saying that Madonna is a curator, that most fashion designers don’t know how to sew. The part that is getting the attention is towards the end of the show, and is just a small part. It is all part of the matrix.
PG got an email today. It was a chain email, with the tasteful title “TO PEE OR NOT TO PEE”. It has a couple of paragraphs of text, a cute animation repeated seven times, and a disclaimer. If you print it out, it is five pages long. Holy dead trees, Batman. Here is the message:
I thought you’d like this. We’d probably lower our national def. a whole lot if we put this plan into play. TO PEE OR NOT TO PEE . . . I have a job. I work, they pay me. I pay my taxes & the government distributes my taxes as it sees fit. In order to get that paycheck, in my case, I am required to pass a random urine test (with which I have no problem). What I do have a problem with is the distribution of my taxes to people who don’t have to pass a urine test. So, here is my question: Shouldn’t one have to pass a urine test to get a welfare check because I have to pass one to earn it for them? Please understand, I have no problem with helping people get back on their feet. I do have a problem with helping someone sitting on their butt – doing drugs while I work.
Can you imagine how much money each state would save if people had to pass a urine test to get a public assistance check? I guess we could call the program “URINE OR YOU’RE OUT”! Pass this along if you agree or simply delete if you don’t. Hope you all will pass it along, though. Something has to change in this country – AND SOON! P.S. All politicians should have to pass a urine test too!
The information contained in this communication and all accompanying documents from Coilcraft may be confidential and/or legally privileged, and is intended only for the use of the recipient(s) named above. If you are not the intended recipient you are hereby notified that any review, disclosure, copying, distribution or the taking of any action in reliance on the contents of this transmitted information is strictly prohibited. If you have received this communication in error, please return it to the sender immediately and destroy the original message or accompanying materials and any copy thereof. If you have any questions concerning this message, please contact the sender.
There is soooo much that could be said about this. PG is detoxed from all drugs except Kroger Coffee, but is mightily offended by drug testing. It encourages alcohol use. It does not discriminate between soft and hard drugs. ( Marijuana is stored in fatty tissue, and is the substance most affected by drug testing.) The war on drugs has filled our prisons, cost trillions of dollars, ruined countless lives, and yet is diligently pursued. Bumping people off welfare might make a few people happy, but will probably benefit few people. ( Except for the owners of drug testing companies.)
Maybe we need to criticize the medium, and not worry about the message. Here we have a 245 word message that takes five pages to deliver. This is typical of message emails. People, only show your animated man one time, pack the message into paragraphs, and you can tell your story in one page.
Pass this along if you agree or simply delete if you don’t. Does anyone else think this is RUDE? When you send an email, you invade personal space. You ask a person to look at something, without knowing how busy this person is, how they are feeling, or whether they are interested in your silly little message. It is a shame email is so cheap, if it is going to produce garbage like this.
The icing on the cake is the disclaimer at the bottom. This message is now, in effect, owned by the Coilcraft company. This makes this company look rotten to a lot of people. If you send out message emails at work, please take off the disclaimer. Or, just send the message from home. Or, the best answer of all, don’t send the damn message.
This is a repost. Black and white pictures are from The Library of Congress.
In the time between 1980 and 1994, if you lived in Atlanta you heard about Lewis Grizzard. Some people loved him. Some did not. He told good old boy stories about growing up in rural Georgia. Many of them were enjoyable. He also made social and political commentaries, which upset a few people. This is a repost.
PG had mixed feelings about Lewis. The stories about Kathy Sue Loudermilk and Catfish were funny. His opinions about gays, feminists, and anything non redneck could get on your nerves. His column for the fishwrapper upset PG at least twice a week.
In 1982, Lewis (he reached the level of celebrity where he was known by his first name only) wrote a column about John Lennon. Lewis did not understand why Mr. Ono was such a big deal. PG cut the column out of the fishwrapper, and put it in a box. Every few years, PG would be looking for something, find that column, and get mad all over again.
The New Georgia Encyclopedia has a page about Lewis, which expresses some of these contradictions. If Grizzard’s humor revealed the ambivalence amid affluence of the Sunbelt South, it reflected its conservative and increasingly angry politics as well. He was fond of reminding fault-finding Yankee immigrants that “Delta is ready when you are,” and, tired of assaults on the Confederate flag, he suggested sarcastically that white southerners should destroy every relic and reminder of the Civil War (1861-65), swear off molasses and grits, drop all references to the South, and begin instead to refer to their region as the “Lower East.” Grizzard also wore his homophobia and hatred for feminists on his sleeve, and one of the last of his books summed up his reaction to contemporary trends in its title, Haven’t Understood Anything since 1962 and Other Nekkid Truths (1992).
In the end, which came in 1994, when he was only forty-seven, the lonely, insecure, oft-divorced, hard-drinking Grizzard proved to be the archetypal comic who could make everyone laugh but himself. He chronicled this decline and his various heart surgeries in I Took a Lickin’ and Kept on Tickin’, and Now I Believe in Miracles (1993), published just before his final, fatal heart failure.
As you may have discerned, Lewis McDonald Grizzard Jr. met his maker on March 20, 1994. He was 47. There was a valve in his heart that wasn’t right. The good news is that he stayed out of the army. At the time, Vietnam was the destination for most enlistees. The bad news is that his heart problems got worse and worse, until it finally killed him.
Sixteen years later, PG found a website, Wired for Books. It is a collection of author interviews by Don Swaim, who ran many of them on a CBS radio show called Book Beat. There are two interviews with Lewis Grizzard. The first one was done to promote My Daddy Was a Pistol and I’m a Son of A Gun. This was the story of Lewis Grizzard Senior, who was another mixed bag.
PG found himself listening to this chat, and wondered what he had been missing all those years. The stories and one liners came flowing out like the Chattahoochee going under the perimeter highway. Daddy Grizzard was a soldier, who went to war in Europe and Korea. The second one did something to his mind, and he took to drinking. He was never quite right the rest of his life. His son from adored him anyway. When you put yourself in those loafers for a while, you began to taste the ingredients in that stew we called Lewis Grizzard.
PG still remembers the anger that those columns caused … he has his own story, and knows when his toes are stepped on. The thing is, after listening to this show, PG has an idea of why Lewis Grizzard wrote the things that he did. Maybe PG and Lewis aren’t all that different after all.
The pictures for this feature are from The Library of Congress. While picking out the pictures, PG listened to the other Lewis Grizzard show with Don Swaim. They both have last names that are often mispronounced. When Lewis wondered where Klansmen get those pointy hats… at the KKK mart, perhaps… PG had to stop the broadcast and write a postscript. This is a repost.
There is a nifty article about Cary Grant and LSD on the web now. It seems Mr. Grant, the onetime Archibald Leach, had a few issues. Duh. Married five times. Widely rumored to the the bf of Randolph Scott. A talented actor, but a mess in the real world.
In 1956, Mr. Grant was with third wife Betsy Drake, who had a tough summer. “It was an open secret between cast and crew alike that the married Cary Grant was sleeping with Sophia Loren during their filming of The Pride and The Passion. Drake had flown to Italy to be by her husband’s side during the shoot only to find Grant ignoring her. Distraught, she fled on what was to be a quiet voyage on the SS Andrea Doria. On July 25, 1956 her quiescent journey turned into a nightmare. The ship collided with a Swedish ocean liner off the coast of Nantucket, Massachusetts, sinking to the bottom of the Sea and claiming fifty-one lives.2 Betsy survived but was traumatized. The incident, coupled with the estrangement of her husband, haunted her in her sleep.”
Betsy Drake had a friend named Sally Brophy, an actress. Miss Brophy also received help from a psychiatrist, which included taking LSD. Eventually, Cary Grant started to go see this doctor.
Taking a legal trip, in a Hollywood doctor’s office, is not like going to a rave. It was seen as therapy, a way of learning how to deal with your problems. According to Cary Grant, it worked very well. He talked about it to a reporter, and then confirmed that he wanted this to go out to the public.
“The shock of each revelation brings with it an anguish of sadness for what was not known before in the wasted years of ignorance and, at the same time, an ecstasy of joy at being freed from the shackles of such ignorance … I learned many things in the quiet of that room … I learned that everything is or becomes its own opposite … it releases inhibition. You know, we are all unconsciously holding our anus. In one LSD dream I shit all over the rug and shit all over the floor. Another time I imagined myself as a giant penis launching off from earth like a spaceship … I seemed to be in a world of healthy, chubby little babies’ legs and diapers, smeared blood, a sort of general menstrual activity taking place … As a philosopher once said, you cannot judge the day until the night ..”
The only problem was, Mr. Grant had a movie coming out, “Operation Petticoat”. The studio “tripped out” when it heard the star of the show was praising LSD in the press. Mr. Grant had a share in the profits of the film, and was persuaded to call the reporter and recant on the interview.
Not everyone was impressed by the doctors that Mr. Grant used. “Aldous Huxley had encountered the clinic prior to his death, but had sought his LSD experiences from the parallel practice of Dr. Oscar Janiger, the other acid doctor to the stars. Huxley witnessed Chandler and Hartman’s work and was unnerved by their approach. “We met two Beverly Hills psychiatrists the other day,” he wrote, “who specialise in LSD therapy at $100 a shot – and, really, I have seldom met people of lower sensitivity, more vulgar mind! To think of people made vulnerable by LSD being exposed to such people is profoundly disturbing.”
In any event, LSD became criminalized, Doctors Chandler and Hartman got in trouble, and Cary Grant got married two more times. While Grant never renounced LSD, he refused to use any other illegal drug, even marijuana. He was a conservative old fogey.
Maureen Donaldson was the lover of Cary Grant in the seventies, and was a friend of Alice Cooper. She finally persuaded Mr. Grant to go to an Alice Cooper concert with her. He wore sunglasses, gold chains, and dressed like a “seedy agent”. He sat through the entire show, wearing earplugs, hating every minute of it.
As Miss Donaldson recalled the evening “Driving back to Los Angeles, I congratulated Cary for being such a good sport … He’d made an extraordinary effort to please me … [I asked him] ‘You really hated it, didn’t you?’ ‘It’s…’ he said, struggling for words, ‘you know what it’s like? Remember I told you about the time I took LSD in my doctor’s office and shat all over his rug and floor?’ ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Well now I know how that poor doctor felt.”
This is a repost. Pictures are from The Library of Congress.