An America divided
Current mood: optimistic
Category: Life

I wrote this after I watched a documentary, _Color of Fear_.

The black man screaming his frustration at the smug white man: white people must believe that equal opportunity exists for all in Amreica, for isnt that what America is founded upon? We sit on the second floor balcony overlooking our domainthis is where Americans dwelland throw a rope down to the others saying that all you have to do is climb up and all will be well. We grab that rope, anchor it securely, tug it just to make sure the knot is sturdy and throw it over you. We have done a good thing here today my brothers, let us celebrate the coming of those from down below.

Look carefully at that rope before you climb my friends. To some of you the rope will never reach, you will stand under the limp lifeless line looking up. You might have to squint to see it, but you will definitely see that out-of-reach piece of twine drooping off the balconythe hanging road to all things American. You scour the area frantically looking for a laddersomething. You call up to those above and say, Hey, this rope doesnt reach, can you let out some slack? No answer comes. You just hear the echoes of the party from above. How can I get the rope? You question frenziedly. What will you do to get the rope?

You are of the lucky ones, your hands grip the rope that they dropped down in front of you. The contours of the twisted strands meld with the palms of your hands. You squeeze that rope tightly and feel the coarseness of the fibers. You smile knowing that the promise-land is but a short climb away. As you ready for that climb, you realize that you have never climbed anything before. The balcony extends too far from the rest of the structure to use your legs as leverage when you pull with your arms. You start to wonder if you can make the climb with only your arms. America waits for you, so you try. You tighten your grip on the rope feeling those fibers pierce your palms as you start your assent. One arm tightens and pulls as the other releases its grip to reach up over the first. With the second attempt to move skyward, your breath starts to quicken, your hands get moist. Your forearm muscles begin to burn and shake. You must keep going. With the next reach you cannot hold your weight. You slip down the rope and land hard on the ground. You look at your hands and see the blisters swelling. How am I supposed to climb all the way up? you say out loud. You can see that if you were lighter you could make itonly the skinny little kids could ever climb the rope in gym class. What are you going to shed to become American?

What is taking those people so long to get up the rope? a concerned American asks. Dont worry about them, we gave them ropes, what else do they want from us? a contented American responds. I just cant understand it, we climbed up those very same ropes and I dont remember it taking so long. We did climb up those ropes, didnt we? the concerned one mumbles to himself.

9:25 PM - 0 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

Oscar Wilde and Japan
Current mood: thirsty

Take an example from our own day. I know that you
are fond of Japanese things. Now, do you really imagine that the
Japanese people, as they are presented to us in art, have any
existence? If you do, you have never understood Japanese art at
all. The Japanese people are the deliberate self-conscious
creation of certain individual artists. If you set a picture by
Hokusai, or Hokkei, or any of the great native painters, beside a
real Japanese gentleman or lady, you will see that there is not the
slightest resemblance between them. The actual people who live in
Japan are not unlike the general run of English people; that is to
say, they are extremely commonplace, and have nothing curious or
extraordinary about them. In fact the whole of Japan is a pure
invention. There is no such country, there are no such people.
One of our most charming painters went recently to the Land of the
Chrysanthemum in the foolish hope of seeing the Japanese. All he
saw, all he had the chance of painting, were a few lanterns and
some fans. He was quite unable to discover the inhabitants, as his
delightful exhibition at Messrs. Dowdeswell's Gallery showed only
too well. He did not know that the Japanese people are, as I have
said, simply a mode of style, an exquisite fancy of art. And so,
if you desire to see a Japanese effect, you will not behave like a
tourist and go to Tokio. On the contrary, you will stay at home
and steep yourself in the work of certain Japanese artists, and
then, when you have absorbed the spirit of their style, and caught
their imaginative manner of vision, you will go some afternoon and
sit in the Park or stroll down Piccadilly, and if you cannot see an
absolutely Japanese effect there, you will not see it anywhere.

From "The Decay of Lying"

12:03 AM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

"How to Tame a Wild Tongue"

If you get this you will get me to the core: Thanks Gloria Anzaldua for the words.

"So, if you really want to hurt me, talk badly about my language. Ethnic identity is twin skin to linguistic identity--I am my language. Until I can take pride in my language, I cannot take pride in myself. Until I can take as legitimate Chicano Texas Spanish, Tex-Mex and all the other languages I speak, I cannot accept the legitimcay of myself. Until I am free to write bilingually and to switch codes without having always to translate, while I still have to speak English or Spanish when I would prefer to speak Spanglish, and as long as I have to accommodate the English speaker rather than having them accommodate me, my tongue will be illigitimate. I will no longer be made to feel ashamed of existing. I will have my voice: Indian, Spanish, white. I will have my seprent's tongue--my woman's voice, my sexual voice, my poet's voice. I will overcome the tradition of silence."

11:45 PM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment