Are you ashamed of your ancestors?
- Thread starter S.A.M.
- Start date
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What we make of it
I'm tempted to say, "It's the comfort of believing you're part of something special," but that's too accusatory. Perhaps it is the comfort of recognizing that you are part of something that, while it may not be unique, certainly isn't mundane. It's a tenuous connection to something interesting and at least slightly (statistically) deviant, and in that context a suggestion that life need not be relegated to the fat, boring part of the bell curve, and one need not aspire to be invisible. Anyone can be "somebody", whether that outcome is good or bad, famous or notorious or even laughable. But most of us haven't the courage to try, or the dedication to give. It is not uncommon to wish to be that perfectly sane man peacefully dancing with his shadow on the pier while the sun shines and the perfect breeze swirls up over the boards. But we are often afraid to deviate from the herd, as such. And knowing that we can, that we are of a tradition that has before, brings us at least some assurance.
Indeed; as far as I can tell, family is what we make of it.
I have a "brother" to whom I bear absolutely no legal or blood relationship. Haven't seen him in ... two or three years, I think. But when Tigger and I finally broke, and it was time for me to move out, and then she "threatened" me (it legally qualifies as domestic violence, although it wasn't what I call a proper threat), and then pulled the infamous eighteen-hour diaper run ... when I started cracking under the weight of absurdity, he was the first one I called.
Once upon a time, when I first started smoking pot regularly, my girlfriend thought I was having an allergic reaction or something—it was a strange experience, to be certain—she called him.
When he was ready for the drug subculture, he entered it through me. We learned to drink together, romanced (different) strippers together. Had what might be called the best time of my life with him. Built our last religions together. Stood back to back once, wondering if the fight was about to start (it didn't). Fought each other in the street once at four in the morning. Chased ghosts, fled dawns, regressed to childhood together. It's ... seventeen years later, I think, and we each still carry a tattered, faded square of yellow paper with two words printed on each, reminding us of the day we chased our former selves through the woods together, stopped upon discovering a shattered robin's egg, and staged an impromptu funeral at the base of the tree.
There was the time, after I dropped out of school, I was hanging out with a new girlfriend, and accidentally swatted a ladybug out of the air. I adore ladybugs, and was devastated at having killed the thing. So I set about preparing a grave, with the beautiful carcass on cotton in a matchbox, at the base of a cherry tree. Helena, of course, was mystified. Jon happens to show up right about then, walking around the side of the house. "What the hell is he doing?" she demanded of him, before he could even say hello. "I don't know, what is he doing?" he replied, as if this was the most natural greeting in the world. "He's burying a ladybug! He accidentally killed it." He turned around, walked away, and returned seconds later with a small collection of his magickal tools, including our favorite athame and incense. He didn't say a word to Helena, but rather lit incense, helped me set the box in the grave, and began a banishing ritual to clear all other spirits from the area, that we might speed this poor ladybird to its destination. When we were done, we washed the dirt from our hands, cracked beers, and reminisced about a ladybug we never knew. It took a while before Helena was able to speak again. No, we didn't cast any nifty spell for that. She just didn't have a clue what we were doing or why. Frankly, I thought it was perfectly clear what we were doing, and no, we didn't care if there was an actual reason why.
He's the kind of person you don't have to actually say something to in order to communicate with him. Of course, nearly everyone thought we were a closet couple. It's probably the reason my mother started dropping the random hint here and there that it's okay if I'm gay. But who says you have to bone a man to love him?
And if he or I walked through the door tomorrow, it would be like yesterday, so to speak.
How the hell can he not be family?
One Raven said:
I'm tempted to say, "It's the comfort of believing you're part of something special," but that's too accusatory. Perhaps it is the comfort of recognizing that you are part of something that, while it may not be unique, certainly isn't mundane. It's a tenuous connection to something interesting and at least slightly (statistically) deviant, and in that context a suggestion that life need not be relegated to the fat, boring part of the bell curve, and one need not aspire to be invisible. Anyone can be "somebody", whether that outcome is good or bad, famous or notorious or even laughable. But most of us haven't the courage to try, or the dedication to give. It is not uncommon to wish to be that perfectly sane man peacefully dancing with his shadow on the pier while the sun shines and the perfect breeze swirls up over the boards. But we are often afraid to deviate from the herd, as such. And knowing that we can, that we are of a tradition that has before, brings us at least some assurance.
• • •
Superstring01 said:
Indeed; as far as I can tell, family is what we make of it.
I have a "brother" to whom I bear absolutely no legal or blood relationship. Haven't seen him in ... two or three years, I think. But when Tigger and I finally broke, and it was time for me to move out, and then she "threatened" me (it legally qualifies as domestic violence, although it wasn't what I call a proper threat), and then pulled the infamous eighteen-hour diaper run ... when I started cracking under the weight of absurdity, he was the first one I called.
Once upon a time, when I first started smoking pot regularly, my girlfriend thought I was having an allergic reaction or something—it was a strange experience, to be certain—she called him.
When he was ready for the drug subculture, he entered it through me. We learned to drink together, romanced (different) strippers together. Had what might be called the best time of my life with him. Built our last religions together. Stood back to back once, wondering if the fight was about to start (it didn't). Fought each other in the street once at four in the morning. Chased ghosts, fled dawns, regressed to childhood together. It's ... seventeen years later, I think, and we each still carry a tattered, faded square of yellow paper with two words printed on each, reminding us of the day we chased our former selves through the woods together, stopped upon discovering a shattered robin's egg, and staged an impromptu funeral at the base of the tree.
There was the time, after I dropped out of school, I was hanging out with a new girlfriend, and accidentally swatted a ladybug out of the air. I adore ladybugs, and was devastated at having killed the thing. So I set about preparing a grave, with the beautiful carcass on cotton in a matchbox, at the base of a cherry tree. Helena, of course, was mystified. Jon happens to show up right about then, walking around the side of the house. "What the hell is he doing?" she demanded of him, before he could even say hello. "I don't know, what is he doing?" he replied, as if this was the most natural greeting in the world. "He's burying a ladybug! He accidentally killed it." He turned around, walked away, and returned seconds later with a small collection of his magickal tools, including our favorite athame and incense. He didn't say a word to Helena, but rather lit incense, helped me set the box in the grave, and began a banishing ritual to clear all other spirits from the area, that we might speed this poor ladybird to its destination. When we were done, we washed the dirt from our hands, cracked beers, and reminisced about a ladybug we never knew. It took a while before Helena was able to speak again. No, we didn't cast any nifty spell for that. She just didn't have a clue what we were doing or why. Frankly, I thought it was perfectly clear what we were doing, and no, we didn't care if there was an actual reason why.
He's the kind of person you don't have to actually say something to in order to communicate with him. Of course, nearly everyone thought we were a closet couple. It's probably the reason my mother started dropping the random hint here and there that it's okay if I'm gay. But who says you have to bone a man to love him?
And if he or I walked through the door tomorrow, it would be like yesterday, so to speak.
How the hell can he not be family?
superstring01
Moderator
You're smoking crack. I love how everybody thinks that the history of Buddhism is all touchy-feely and that Tibetans were always peaceful people, causing no harm to anybody. How about, do just a little reading, Lori:
Friendly Feudalism: The Tibet Myth
Tibet: From Brutal Theocracy to Socialist Liberation to Capitalist Nightmare
The Cultural History of Tibet
Tibet: From Brutal Theocracy to Socialist Liberation to Capitalist Nightmare
The Cultural History of Tibet
The Dalai Lamas used to skin people alive and chain boys to walls and beat them until they had entire tracts of religious texts memorized. Most of the people living in Tibet were serfs, bound to serve the monks as slaves from birth to death. The DaLai Lama's power over Tibet was absolute and they abused it just like everybody else.
What is happening here is reverse logic. You've adopted the philosophy that "white people are bad" and will seek out any information that supports that maxim. Taken from that vantage point, ANY first year college student could accomplish this task. I would suggest a more nuanced and--perhaps--holistic view of history. Try picking up a history book on another culture/people and see how they were just as cruel as everybody else. The issue you have is simply about success. White people were too successful in achieving hegemony through technology, in every other way European culture is just as cruel--and in the past 40 years--significantly more humane than most others.
Again, I'd ask you to demonstrate a single culture who were free of the same flaws as Europeans. Thus far, you've yet to demonstrate one.
~String
Additional Note: A good SciForums source for real info on the real history of Tibet would be SAM.
There is no such thing as "reverse racism" there is just plain racism - and what you just said is racist.
You are no better or different than the "hate-mongers" you spoke of. You just aim your hatred in a different direction.
superstring01
Moderator
You've just described racist, rich hate-mongers, NOT "white people". Racist, rich hate-mongers exist everywhere. If you were so wise as to recognize the hatred that surrounded you, you should have been wise enough to avoid such things yourself. Hatred of any group is still hatred.
There is no harm in recognizing the faults of the past; those of white people, black people, Asians, Polynesians, whomever. There is harm, however, in making ad hominem statements about an entire race, especially when a sizable portion of that race is expending great effort in fixing the errors of the past. Part of fixing those errors does not include self loathing and self destruction. If the picture in your avatar is really you, then I would suggest making peace with the past of your ancestors, celebrating the good things about your culture, jettisoning those things that are bad, and making sure to not become the mirror image of those you claim to hate.
~String
superstring01
Moderator
For the last time, yes you are, by definition.
superstring01
Moderator
Thank you, String, but it's just obvious - isn't it?
On the one hand you have the people she's talking about who hate black people because they're all niggers. Billy Ray may base his prejudice on complete and utter bullshit and he never met a black man in his life... they are all low class... they are all criminals... whatever line of shit he has been fed his whole life. Or he may base it on valid, though extraordinarily limited experience... he used to get beat up by blacks when he was a boy... his dad's store got robbed by a black man. In all likelihood, it's a combination of both.
On the other hand, she hates whites beacuse they are all crackers. Based on complete and utter bullshit... they oppress all people of color... all other races and cultures are the kind, peaceful oppressed. And valid, though extraordinarily limited, personal experience with the cracker assholes she has known.
I don't see the difference. A racist is a racist is a racist. It is an easy, convenient way to generalize and attempt to marginalize a vast, diverse group of people by applying preconceived notions based on lies, misrepresentations and/or limited experience with individuals - and it is a vile behavior.
On the one hand you have the people she's talking about who hate black people because they're all niggers. Billy Ray may base his prejudice on complete and utter bullshit and he never met a black man in his life... they are all low class... they are all criminals... whatever line of shit he has been fed his whole life. Or he may base it on valid, though extraordinarily limited experience... he used to get beat up by blacks when he was a boy... his dad's store got robbed by a black man. In all likelihood, it's a combination of both.
On the other hand, she hates whites beacuse they are all crackers. Based on complete and utter bullshit... they oppress all people of color... all other races and cultures are the kind, peaceful oppressed. And valid, though extraordinarily limited, personal experience with the cracker assholes she has known.
I don't see the difference. A racist is a racist is a racist. It is an easy, convenient way to generalize and attempt to marginalize a vast, diverse group of people by applying preconceived notions based on lies, misrepresentations and/or limited experience with individuals - and it is a vile behavior.
Me I am a equal opertunity racist I hate every body. Until they can show they have a brain.
I think my culture sucks ass. On a day to day basis, I see and treat people as individuals regardless of race. But when I look back throughout history, I'm not impressed with much of white mans' endeavors and mentalities. That's my opinion. And you may think my opinion sucks ass, but its still my opinion.
religious people contend with my beliefs just as much as atheists do. And I hate religion just as much as most atheists do. I'm not religious. My beliefs are based on personal experience not in religion. Religion is a man made institution that I am no part of.
superstring01
Moderator
What is your culture? Do you hate the culture of those who passionately believe in egalitarianism, who fight for freedom and prosperity? Because that describes millions of white people all over the world. I'm confused. What about it do you hate, specifically?
As to "white men's endeavors" that's a cop out. "White men" have done many great things. That you are too myopic and selfish to recognize the good as well as the bad smacks of solipsism.
Would be like me siting all those "pesky niggers" who murder and kill in the hood. It dismisses all the great things, civil things, creative things that people of African descent have contributed to this planet. You say you find the endeavors of "white men" lacking. Then you need to open a book, or at least turn on your TV to see the world around you. Do you hate the white man who cured Polio, the white woman who helped eliminate Typhoid in New York, the white man who spent his life uncovering the secrets of the universe or the white woman who invented our modern computer culture, it's first language and common terminology?
See, this is where I struggle to respect what you're saying. You're making irrational statements out of obvious self loathing, and with little knowledge. You either lied when you responded with the answer to my original question, or just have no clue what you're talking about (remember: Tibet?). Name one culture that has acted "better" or with any more regard for human life and equality? You managed to avoid my counterpoints, why that?
You've adopted a passionate emotional stance because of actions you dislike and have reverse engineered an excuse in order to justify your categorizing an entire race as something less than respectible. This makes you both terribly immature and ridiculously biggoted; and sadly just as wicked as those who you claim to hate.
There is a saying by Sun Tzu: "We tend to become like the worst in those whom we oppose." You're just as bad as the racists who string up black men and who treat the Burakumin like dirt. You justify hate, discrimination for ignorant reasons.
~String
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I'm not quite certain that is true. There is definitely a culture around colour in western society.
No, but i'm very careful how loudly I talk about him.
I'm neither embaressed of, nor ashamed of the particular ancestor i'm thinking of, but, I am a minority, and he is unpopular with the majority in this part of the country (There was pillaging, killing, and burning of villages involved as part of a power play).
White Americans are the same culture as white Germans as white Africans as white Middle Eaterns as white Austrailians as white Asians?
You are going to have a Hell of a time convincing me of that.
I don't think Middle Easterners are considered white any more than white Indians are.
But yeah, there is a commonality of culture between white Germans, white Africans and white Australians. They all share European roots and will not show each other out a store becuase of colour
But yeah, there is a commonality of culture between white Germans, white Africans and white Australians. They all share European roots and will not show each other out a store becuase of colour
She made no distinction of national heritage, just skin color.
Aside from that, let's take it as a given she means causasian for the sake of argument...
There are no caucasians living in the Middle East?
There are no people of European Descent living in India?
First of all, unless you are saying all white people are racist and will not allow people of other colors to shop in their stores - which is patently false - your statement is fairly meaningless.
Secondly, even if you had a valid point regarding commonality of racism in white people, that still does not imply a common culture, customs, beliefs, religion, practices or anything else that defines a culture.
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