Ba Ba Ti Ki Di Do

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tk_7ExOhSS0

I was listening to this song last night, and it gave me an idea for a story excerpt. Talking with Joe tonight gave me another one, so I'll make those soon.

But now to the real reason for this post. (Incoherent as usual.)

1

Today I went to my sister's house with my mother. She needed to pick up some clothes of my niece, Nevaeh, and I was going to walk/feed my dog, Copper. The first thing we noticed when we got closer to the house was that there were bottles littered around her front lawn. She accused the neighbors directly to my sister's right for being the cause of the mess. Apparently they don't "bag their garbage," or something. For the short time she spoke of the, she just had to throw in the fact that they were "Mexican." I italicize this word because that's how she put it, and how everyone else seems to put it. A person's characteristics always seem to become some sort of disgusting adjective.

They always seem to throw in their nationality (or the color of their skin, etc.). It's always "that black man" and not "that man." I can understand why people would do it. I mean, we even do it for when someone is fat, old, or tall. But it just feels wrong when it comes to the topic of race.

I suppose this got me thinking about racism, and how I don't fully understand why people choose or don't choose to be. There are pretty much two types of racists. You're either the kind that flat out hates someone because of their race and may or may not let others know it, or you're the kind that just acts differently towards someone of another race than you would your own. If you're "Type B," which I believe my mother is, you don't hate the other race, or think of yourself as a racist, but you still allow stereotypes to shape your mindset.

I'm not going to lie. I'm probably a Type B as well. I've never found myself hating someone of another race, but I'm sure I've discrimated in the past. I suppose it's hard not to, when you're fed so many things through the media. I'll always remind myself of what they want me to think, and I'll immediately repress it. They tell you that the black man probably has a gun, and that he's here to rob the store, and you can't help but think of how ironic it would be if he did.

2

Before leaving, my mother noticed the neighbor's rottweiler outside of our yard. A conversation kind of like this occured immediately afterwards.

"I'm going to go over there and have a talk with them about that rottweiler. There is no way I'm going to let my grandchildren be harmed."
"I don't think it's a rottweilder, Mom." I stood up to check, and it looked like a mix between a rottweiler and something else (probably a black lab).
"Oh, it is. Breeann said it was."
"Yeah, I guess it is. I'm sure it's fine, though. They have kids of their own."

The conversation ended there, but I know I hadn't gotten through to her. Thankfully, before we left, they went inside their home. (I didn't want to have to listen to my mother bitch.) As we left, she drove by their house slowly while looking into their windows. Sigh.

I feel really bad for my mother. She shouldn't have to live afraid and angry like this. No one should.

Time to Fanboy?

Sigur Rós has their new album that comes out the 23rd of June streaming on their website.
http://www.sigurros.com/main/streaming.asp
It's pretty much amazing.

Not Emo

Hayley Hoover makes amazing cookies. Fact.