Tuesday, November 14, 2006

Thank you. I absolutely love minority discrimination. White, tight and outa sight.

Top of the morning gents,

Morgan Freeman was once asked what he thought about
the continual reinvention of cultural titles that
indicate skin hue, but fail to illustrate culture or
ethnicity: titles of dubiously defining attributes
that make us unique individuals. Goddamned attributes
also differentiate humans by appearance.

Mr. Freeman's response was "just quit talking about
it." He didn't appreciate being branded with labels
such as African American or Black, Negro or Person of
Color. His opinion of 'color' descriptors were mere
time wasters, ego gratifiers and meaningless. "I don't
feel black until someone reminds me."

"The best cure for racism is excellence." Amen?

Morgan Freeman is also a highly educated man working
on the children's show Electric Company and other WGBH
Boston Public Broadcasting projects back during his
Doctoral Candidacy.

Humans are funny. We try to empathize across racial
contrasts and sympathize across physically differing
archaeologies. Real dumb.

Composing experiential synopsis plural and plethora
can't even scratch the surface to reveal the appalling
uniqueness all ye graying gunslingers conceal within
yourselves. You chaps are so well read as to betray
lay descriptors such as 'blue collar' or 'civil
servants.'

Writing is an action and not just hot air, jacking
jaw, nor bullshitting. These missives are one-way
conversations annoying and are assembled in layered
pieces with some paragraphs designed to slap yer face
with other paragraphs designed to kick yer gnarly
gonads right outa yer fucking chair.

Sheer volume speaks loudly and ain't a single one of
ye know dick how arrogant Finns are nor would any of
us have a fucking clue what it's like to walk in the
shoes of a native on any other continent.

Alas we try: and in the most comic exaggerations and
unwarranted stereotypes. Fun shit Maynard. Sharing
jokes and stories is by far the best way I'll ever get
to comprehend the likes of you lot.

I sure as fuck hate gay polite activities called 'male
bonding.' Some fatherless cunt shaped pear made that
doozy up whilst simultaneously revealing she Can't
Understand Normal Thinking.

When I sit with my buds, barts, ilyas and oomahs I
expect to be privileged with old fashioned
intellectual pastimes. Pastimes like chatting over
coffee and bong hits, bullshitting and beers, or
knocking back strong drink in homes on foreign soil
and sovereignty.

Seeking fellowship in pubs or churches is cool in my
book. For a million fucking years men sneaked off to
their own masculine version of a bleeding hut for
bourbon, brew and a smoke. If you ever mention 'male
bonding' in my company I'll fucking heave.

During the dark months you'll be glad to be rid of me.
My addiction to conversational stimulation will likely
"wear out my welcome with random precision."

Cat box rules: courtesy will not be tolerated. Your
gentlemanly conduct gets parked outside. For me to
vicariously appreciate your wondrous stories and nasty
ass fucking jokes, ye gotta use shop talk, potty talk
and shit talk. Don't beat around the bush: beat right
in it.

We're all grown men. If my feelings get hurt, it's my
responsibility to buy myself some pads or yank the
fossilized stick outa my ass and pack the wound with
OB brand earplugs.

Never trust someone that can bleed for a whole week
and not fucking die. The next time any man says he
doesn't have a MENstrual cycle, point out that yer
gonads are big as ovaries.

And his ain't.

Differing races make for strange bedfellows. It’s the
differences that make us unique and truly fascinating
and I thank God y’all are my brothers from dumber
mothers. Racism is like virtue: it’s own reward.
Ignorance, fear and hatred is beautiful, else we’d all
look the same: like Athabascan dumpster divers. We’d
also have nothing significant to say to each other and
ethnic humor would be moot. Imagine our callous and
gut busting dialogues we enjoyed. Fuck I’m glad you
lads aren’t any thing like me. I could’ve been born
bright.

In under 20 seconds the human being automatically
categorizes everybody in the room of the opposite sex
by relative attractiveness. We’re being discriminated
by every human at all times in one context or another.
First impressions are lasting impressions and they are
based solely on appearance. Startling differences
makes much grist for the humor mill.

“Some girls don’t like guys like me. Oh, but some
girls do” (unknown folk song). Ironic that the woman
that married me is colored. Debating the human
experience of clashing cultures will forever be
fascinating and really fucking funny.

When you enter a room and you gotta tell everybody who
you are, you ain’t it.

None of you murderous motherfuckers require
introductions.

Fuck all, right mates?

Karl.

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