Tuesday, May 26, 2020

The Phrase That Pays


Let's talk about that sentence today: I am not a racist.

Boy howdy, is that a loaded phrase. More than likely if some white person had been reduced to uttering this sentence it's because they have said or done something so racist that the only thing they can do is pathetically assure everyone that what they said and did is an aberration, but no one should possibly believe that's who they really are.

So many people aren't racist until they are. They go through life believing their own theory of not being racist until that theory is tested and they fail that test miserably.

Being perfectly willing to use the tools of white supremacy when they suit you is racist ass hell. Pretending that you don't know those tools exist is racist as hell. Actually using those tools makes you a Klan Member even if you never sign up or wear the robes.

Getting caught using those tools on video and facing the consequences of those actions: Priceless.

Tuesday, May 12, 2020

Quarantine Dreams

My Quarantine dreams are vividly realistic. Sometimes they're about things I've never done nevertheless my dreams during this time contain a level of detail that is startling.

I have never ridden a tractor in my life. But today I dreamed I was riding a tractor through a burnished wheat field. I could feel the wheat brush my legs and see the chaff flying through the air. I could smell the scent of the cut wheat.

That's another thing that's new. Smell in my dreams. Just like I've never been on a tractor, I'm fairly certain I've never been in a wheat field. Driven past many but actually been in one? I don't think so.

How would I even know what wheat being cut smells like. But in my dream, I knew.

I dreamed of swimming. I dreamed of talking with people at a party. I could smell their perfume and cologne and the scent of the hors d'oeuvres on the tray.

Maybe I'll start keeping a dream log. These dreams are so different from my normal dreams. I feel they're trying to tell me something.

Wednesday, May 06, 2020

Social Distancing


There was a girl I knew back in elementary school
She was a year or two ahead of me
Always pretty and smart
We were never quite friends
But we were definitely never enemies
She was the older girl I admired
And I was that kid
Her teacher's kid
You know how it is
She advertised that she was making face masks online
And I contacted her
And she delivered them to my house today
And we stood there social distancing
Hugs implied
While my little boy ran outside in his bare feet
Still not quite understanding
The need for distance
And I took the masks
And all the years that lay between us
And I said
It's so Good to see you
And she said
I wish it were under better circumstances
And I said yeah, that's true
But in that moment
All the old school ties
Still held and bound
And then she got in her car
And drove away
And I took my little boy back in the house
To try on his new mask

Saturday, May 02, 2020

At The End of The Internet

I spend an ungodly amount of time online. I'm one of those Mom's whether my kids comes and takes the phone out of my hand and demands a hug. Despite the fact that I know the details of the consistency of his poop (we're coming to the end of potty training, thank goodness) the littlest one has the idea that I don't pay him enough attention (I do) and that I love my phone more than him (nah).

At any rate, occasionally I reach what I feel is The End of the Internet. That furthest corner of virtual space where silliness, craziness, darkness reigns. It's kind of like The End of The Rainbow or the Light At The End of the Tunnel. Whatever I find there, I bring back for your perusal.

I found a hellishly dark corner on Twitter today, worthy of saying, I Went to the End of the Internet and this is what I found for you.

And before you think it's too bad just know that I laughed. I laughed an awful, desperate laugh. That laugh Sally Field dredges up after the funeral in Steel Magnolias. It's the kind of laugh that uncovers truth and borders on the edge of humor, grief, madness and unfulfilled hopes. After laughter and not quite tears.

I actually created and posted a gif of that laugh because it was the only decent response I could think of.

I did think of an indecent response but it's waaay too soon for that one.

Anyhow, here are the tweets.

Like I said. Brutal.

Biting My Tongue


The biggest problem with Facebook and Twitter is that the people who run those sites actively dislike black people in general and black women in general.

Following this post you will find links to several articles from varying perspectives written at different times. Try all come to the same conclusion: Social Media works overtime at silencing black people who speak up about the nuances of our oppression. Worse, they don't bother to truly follow up when our posts, tweets and comments are trolled by white people who have no problem hitting the Report This button and having our voices silenced from an uncaring space.

That atmosphere has driven me back to my dusty blog space where honestly, I can say what the fuck I want.

So, I'm back. And anything I would have said on Facebook and Twitter will now be posted here.