So I was a-walking and listening to my head-phones. But I had to untangle my head-phones or something. I’m not sure the exact reason I had them off in area I really don’t like to have head-phones off.
There was a black woman walking in front of me with a little black girl. At first glance I guessed the girls age to be 11 because she seemed rather tall. At second glance, I guessed 9 because she seemed to have not started to develop at all.
As much as I was making an effort to block the world out, I none the less got a big chocolately-treat of “We wuz Queenz“. The woman let out a big and scary belly voice to the young girl, “Your m******* f****** s****** p******** whining!!!!!!”
I’m not exactly sure what the mother said because it shocked me so much and was so vile and held a physical threat for the high crime of whining.
(The woman who made this video is clearly of the talented tenth. She's very cute and creative and I am sure is a good mother.)
I knew the voice. I have it within me. I think I’ve used it like 3 times. I don’t know for sure. The only time I know for sure, Is when I was leaving my local Bodega and some 6’4″ (cracker) meth-head followed me out and was fussing at me about allegedly stealing some shiny doo-dad that he owned. I had no idea what he was talking about. The very kind owners of the store, that always look out for me, had one of their mega-sized-sons follow him out and seemed very shocked when out of my body came that very animalistic voice bellowing: “You Back the f^ck up Right now!”
I thought my life was in danger at the time. I have to admit it was kind of fun to see even the store owner’s giant son flinch in surprise at my monster voice. They’re always on about how sweet I am and think I can’t take care of myself.
It’s a voice I’ve never used with someone I know. It’s a voice that neither of my parents ever used with me. It’s a voice I’ve never seen my friends parents use with them. I’m not even sure I’ve used it out of that time that Jimmy-Tweaker-Stewart was coming at me.
But this little girl was getting that voice used on her for whining.It’s doubtful that she even did that. Whining.I observed the mother or grandmother, who knows? She was petite and fashionably dressed.
If the ever-nurturing amazing vagina-owner had not been so vicious to the child in her care, I wouldn’t have stumbled over my head-phones so much while feeling absolutely sick and confused over what I was witnessing,
The little girl met my eye as they were going into their courtyard and Ms Yelling had to stop to open the gate. Her eyes weren’t dead like I have seen with abused Chinese kids. They weren’t pleading as I have seen with abused white kids. I actually sensed an understanding, albeit a very dark one, that it wasn’t right but there was no escape.
As an adult white woman I felt an intense responsibility. Whites are hugely and uniquely bad at being bigots and I am no exception. I looked away from the cute little girl first. I felt intense shame for not even attempting to do something. And I have a history of being courageous enough to do that. I ‘ve taken on 3 generations of Chinese for picking on their tiny girl and I will brag with great success.
Chinese aren’t blacks though. Of course I approach people like this with humor and flanking so it’s not as easy for them to get straight up physical with me. Blacks though- this one much older than me black woman made me think- yeah…no. I’m not in the mood to star in a Colin Flaherty video. Although honestly I probs could have taken her because white people like myself have superior sense of focused resources vs. silly windmill rubber arms.
But then all her neighbors would have come out-Nevertheless I walked on with my shame but also thinking why is my people’s perspective never a part of this equation? Being around such a foreign people is incredibly stressful. They want to cry about micro-aggressions when all they seem to do is Macro-Aggress against everyone.
I kinda of want to say *trigger* warning, that seems kind of lame but, what follows is barbaric at the least.
One of my least favorite topics in the world has to be abortion. I’ve been noticing recently how so often men on the right seem much more comfortable denouncing this than women. When I see this it reminds me of an aspect of men that I see ignored: Men are expected to care about men, women, and children. Female politicians on the other hand tout ‘looking out for women’s interests’ as though that is a unique virtue of theirs and a reason for a person like me to vote for them.
I’ve always believed that abortion is a form of murder.This is another reminder that I’m not sure how liberal, outside of nominally, I ever was. The idiotic assertion that a fetus is just a clump of cells never made any sense to me. What is any living creature? We are all clumps of cells. Or that at 6 weeks a fetus is not a person but at 12 weeks it is? That’s some of the strangest (((voodoo))) I’ve ever heard. While I think abortion is one of the most violent acts that can be perpetrated against both women and children, I don’t think it should be criminalized for real reasons I don’t want to go into here but to make a long story short- I don’t think it would be the most effective fight against it.
I’m writing this to expunge a dark liberal memory. How the me of before is different from the me of now. Trying to make sense of how I ever was that person.
In this story I am about to tell, in no way do I want to suggest that this is normal or average. It’s just something that haunts me. I had this ‘friend’ who was determined to be my very good friend. I was fairly acquiescent out of not having enough energy to be arsed to create a social circle that suited me.
Anyway, friend came from a very wealthy family and as luck would have it met a very wealthy and nice man from the other side of the country. He was jewish and I think she may have been too, but that was before I knew jews were different. That being said, that element may not have anything to do with this story. I don’t know.
Not only was he jewish though he had a very high status job. Like a dream come true they had a ‘whirlwind‘ romance which in my mind equaled a ‘hair-brained scheme‘ and started making this big noise about how they ‘these two perfections of existence‘ finally met each other. I was like, “whatever”. I mean six weeks after they meet they’re engaged and she’s moving to the other side of the country. It was actually a relief to me because she was such a showboat and wanting me to be her sidekick. There were times she was actually very kind to me and I am having guilt now thinking about her uncharitably. She was very annoyingly status orientated though and continuously drawing me into drama and competition with others that I had no interest in.
She wanted me to be her maid of honor. She wanted me to make her wedding dress. Despite her immediate relocation, the planning for the wedding was at least a year-long. She came back for a visit and was describing what she wanted to me. She was artistic and had some sketches. She casually told me she was pregnant and going to have an abortion while she was here.
It distressed me and I pleaded with her. Why? Why on earth? We can make adjustments… She looked at me cooly and explained that she “didn’t want that kind of wedding“. I tried to gently argue with her. She knew her mind.
Sometimes people online tell me they don’t believe my stories. As I relate this one I kind of don’t want to believe it either. It still makes me sick. Sick in the way I feel it send unhappy messages all around my skin and not actually throw up but feel really physically angry about this clown world.
Maybe I just pay attention more than other people or maybe I give people the impression that I won’t judge them? Idk.
I do know I pulled out of the wedding and made some cursory excuse. I didn’t think I was that rude but I still remember having lunch with yet another ‘friend’ at some nightmareishly trendy restaurant in “Upper Valencia” (that’s a joke, kinda) and second friend really took me to task about ‘dirting’ our mutual ‘friend’. “Why’d you do it? She liked you so much?”
I shrugged my shoulders and looked around. I knew I couldn’t tell her it was because bride-friend’s lack of regard for ‘clumps of cells’ like me and you and her made me wildly disgusted and wonder what the point of living as a clump of cells was worth at all. “Feelings aren’t always mutual” I noted as I shoved more salad in my face and met her gaze again. (Christ, maybe I am autistic.)
In no way do I want to suggest that Bride-friend was the norm. That’s why I believe in keeping abortion legal. I honestly believe the norm is a mom who has three kids or so that can’t feed them all. I freely admit this conclusion of mine is based on my feels.
Despite the phrase,”That’s not the kind of wedding I want” continuing to haunt me and despite my illustrious career of being socially awkward. The older I get the more times I reflect on my lack of popularity and think: I may have been in the dark about many things but at least I respected myself and had good instincts (Not a universal truth but at least occasionally). If anyone thinks she was somehow punished for her vanity, as far as I know that is not the case. She had a status-appropriate child one-year later.
All these years later I still live around people who wonder why I “did that to Fake Friend“. I have no desire to be public with her situation in a way that could harm her. I believe more than ever though that if you really care about women; your goal will to be to end feminism.
This is the oft misunderstood song Tupac wrote about feminism. There are some rules that are universal. Tupac was like any person with heart. He hated cultural marxism. He loved his people.
that is health.
(The jail-bars in the video represent the cultural marxism he hated. He’s laughing at the powers that be because he knew that even after the communists killed him he would fight feminism from beyond the grave. He dog-whistled but we all understood. Tupac was a champion of the people vs. the reptilian. That’s why he’s Obie Wan Kanobining in real time.)