Yesterday was a "staff development day" at work. We attended a seminar on "racial diversity and equity". In people-speak that means "you're a bigot; think the way we tell you think." I despise these things-- and not just because of the topic.

There is certainly a degree of insult and resentment at the topic--the implication that I am wrong in how I view others, but it's even more basic than that. It's the fact that my empoloyer feels they have a right to demand that I express my personal opinions, "share my feelings", and then indicate how I have come around to their way of thinking.

My personal life and personal politics have no place in my work, and work has no place in my personal life and politics.

I do not "share my passions" with my coworkers, I do not "declare my personal agenda", and I certainly do not "examine and explore 'Whiteness' with them" (Capitalization theirs).

While this may seem odd to those of you who know me, or who read this blog, but I keep my mouth shut at work. I am quite confident that most of the people I work with would be quite offended by my politics and personal opinions. It serves everyone better for me to just keep my opinions to myself.

My opinions can not be expressed in a single word on a little chart. I'm not that simplistic. I can't be defined by a catch-phrase. But that's what they required. [b]Required[/b]. And then I was told that how I deal with my "minority" friends was [i]wrong[/i]. I'm not allowed to treat everyone the same, regardless of their race, ethnicity, or skin color. No. I have to treat minorities special; "be especially sensitive to their cultural needs". They aren't to be defined by their individual traits, no... that's not "culturally sensitive". No. I have to first define them by their race--or, since this is to be extended to all 'minority' classes, by their "specialness".

So, to all my friends and aquaintences: you're no longer a person, you're a "minority class". You're.....
a black
an Asian
a Filipino
a lesbian
a bisexual
a transgendered person
a diabled person

That's what they tell me I'm supposed to do. {sigh}

I recently read an article about the after-effects of the attack on the Twin Towers. One of the realities that came up was that many of the people who died were the only ones with the passwords to access off-site data-storage. The article described how the surviving members of the offices pooled their knowledge of the dead coworkers, and from that parsed out enough information to figure out what the passwords were.

My coworkers wouldn't have a chance in hell of being able to do that with me. And I like it that way.

A while ago, Bill Cosby caused a huge stir when he said that the black community--specifically parents--aren't doing enough to make education a priority. People jumped all over him, saying--in essence--that his comments were racist. I have to be honest and say that I agree with Dr. Cosby. The problem is, I'm a middle-class white guy. If I so much as [i]hint[/i] at the idea that the reason black student do poorer in school is somehow their own fault, I'm instantly branded as a rabid racist. The truth is quite the opposite.

The politically-correct viewpoint is that minorities (from which the higher-acheiving Asians are exempted, since they don't fit the pattern) do poorer in school [i]because[/i] they are minorities. And somehow it's [i]my[/i] fault, since I'm white. I'm not allowed to say anything about this (even though I am ), but Dr. Cosby has every right in the world to do so. He grew up poor. He got an education. He made something of himself--something so huge that people [b]listen[/b]. He knows that a persons ethnicity has [i]nothing[/i] to do with their intelligence, or their ability to learn. Skin color does not equate to smarts. Intelligence is independent of ethnicity.

"It's ecomonic" is another defense. "Blacks are poor, and that means a poorer education." That doesn't cut it, either. In any neighborhood where there are blacks, there are also latinos, asians, and whites. If the poor white kid can learn, there's absolutely no reason that the poor black kid can't, too. The only difference between a poor white kid and a poor black kid is the color of their skin. And, as I will say repeatedly, skin color has nothing to do with education.

"Schools teach to the white kids." Okay, this one never ceases to confuse me. What the hell does this mean? There seems to be this implication that there is a "black culture" which is [i]so[/i] different from the "white culture" that the kids can't understand things the same way. How is a white kid raised on 5th Street any different than a black kid raised on 5th Street? They live in the same neighborhood, they have access to the same newspapers, the same magazines, the same parks and schools, they see the same bill boards, shop at the same stores, play on the same playgrounds..... How are they "culturally different"?

This is when the "slavery card" gets pulled out. Sorry, but that's bullshit. No child born in the last 150 years knows what it's like to be a slave. My grandfather was a peasant. I have no clue what it's like to be a peasant. What our ancestors lived through does not dictate what we live through.

Is there prejudice in the world? Absolutely. Is there racism in the world? Absolutely. But that does [i]not[/i] mean that it is a dominant factor in everything. I've been a teacher. I work in the adminitrative end of education now. I know that a child who has immigrated from Mexico or Laos will have to deal with differences in culture. A child who's family has lived in this city for 3 or 4 generations does not have "cultural differences" to deal with. In all of the school districts I've worked for, any child that [i]wants[/i] an education will [i]receive[/i] an education--regardless of ethnicity, skin color, or economic status.

American schools are [i]not[/i] systematically deciding to teach black students differently--or more poorly--than white students. There is no all-encompassing conspiracy to keep black students ignorant. The simple fact that poor, minority students [i]are[/i] getting an education--on an individual basis--proves that it can be done; that there isn't a plot to keep the minorities uneducated. Bill Cosby did it. He got a Ph.D. Not "honoris causa", but a fully-earned doctoral degree in education.

Any student that wants an eduction can get an education. There may be hurdles to overcome, but it's an attainable goal.

Skin color does not dictate intelligence or educational aptitude. Students within the same economic class are treated the same. Students from the same neighborhoods have the same exposure to the world--the same basic "culture" from which to derive their perceptions and predispositions. There is no plot to "keep the black man uneducated". So why the difference in academic acheivement? There's only one place left to put the responsibility: on the shoulders of those being educated. Asians aren't getting better grades because of genetics, they're getting better grades because of the way their families treat education. Minorities will not get an education until they [i]want[/i] to get an education. It's sitting there... waiting for them to take it. Many do. And they see the rewards of it.

Education is education; it's there for whomever takes it. You want an education? Take it. But first, you'll have to take personal responsibility.

It's your choice. It's your opportunity... or it's your fault.

Do you know why I walked away?

I believe that you do. I trust that you do.

There are so many things I want to say. But the strongest of them is....."hello".

I stand here upon the edge and I talk. I know you hear the Navigator.... I don't know if you hear the man.

There are so many things I want to say, so many things I want to explain. None of it is startling; none of it earth-shattering. It's not grand soliloquies or sonnets. Just the words of an old man telling you you're a beautiful young lady. No amount of argument, no depth of disbelief will sway my judgement.

You are a friend. You have a friend.

Sail true.

Assholes

They have the fucking audacity to attempt to make it illegal for the Supreme Court of the United States to make a ruling on the First Amendment to the Constitution.

Article. III.

Section. 1.

The judicial Power of the United States, shall be vested in one supreme Court {...}

Section. 2.

Clause 1: The judicial Power shall extend to all Cases, in Law and Equity, arising under this Constitution, the Laws of the United States, and Treaties made, or which shall be made, under their Authority;--{...}--to Controversies to which the United States shall be a Party;{...}

I'm too pissed off to say anything more.

It's Sunday night, and I've nothing to do. Which is to say, I have many things that need doing, or could be done, but I have neither the energy nor the impetus to do them. I did finish the one offical task I had to do: a Set of graphics for a web page that I was subcontracted to update. 6 webpage headers, built from the ground up, completed in 1 hour 15 minutes. That was my accomplishment for the day.

I updated this site a bit. Added a FAQ on the tattoo sub-pages. Updated the photos and information for my chest/shoulder tattoo (2/3 of the way complete now--only one more day and it will be all done).

A former girlfriend (who is still a good friend) is getting married next month. I've put off sending back the RSVP for a number of reasons. Now the deadline has passed, and I can use that as an excuse not to go. My reasons are... odd. Perhaps selfish. It has nothing to do with her being a former girlfriend. I'm very happy for her and her fiance. It's rather that I would have to drive a long way, alone, and spend the night. I will know almost no one. I don't like large gatherings. I would be an outsider, and it would be exceedingly difficult to ignore that. I would end up sitting in a corner by myself, leave the reception early, and go back to my hotel room to sleep.

I don't like weddings. I never really have. Partly because none of them are mine. My dislike for weddings partly compensates for the knowledge that it's exceedingly unlikely that I will ever have one of my own. But it's more than that. I dislike the ostentation. I'm almost offended by the amount of money and time spent on a single day. Ive gotten many a cold glare from women when I say this, but it is my firm belief that too many people spend too much time and money worrying about the wedding, and not nearly enough worrying about the marriage.

If I were in a situation where I was planning for my own wedding, I couldn't find enough people to be my groomsmen, much less enough guests to fill a church. Family included, I'd be rather hard-pressed to find 50 people to invite.

I don't understand this obsession with weddings. I'm not talking about marriage, but about the ceremony and associated activities of the actually wedding itself. I listen to people talk about all the excessive stress involved with planning them. And the cost. I've talked to people who are spending $20,000 on a wedding. On [i]one day[/i]. That's enough to buy a car. Or a sizable downpayment on a house. Thousands of dollars spent on a wedding dress--that will be worn for 12 hours and never touched again. I have met women who have every detail of their wedding planned out--and they don't even have a boyfriend.

How have we, as a culture, become so obsessed with the trappings of the ceremony, yet so ambivelant to the needs of the relationship?

And how have we allowed ourselves to become so hypocritical? Today in the newspaper, I saw the first "marriage" announcement for a gay couple. They married in Toronto. One of the lines in the announcement read "(the couple) has ended a nearly 25-year engagement..." 25 years together and they can't marry. But Brittany Spears' drunken shennigans in Las Vegas would have been perfectly legitimate.

There are times I truely despise our culture.

The shallowness and hypocracy of the US is astounding. Stuffing large wads of plastic in your chest is acceptable; putting a small ring of metal in your lip isn't. Loss of hair somehow equates to being impotent. The same people that scream about unfit parents throw a fit if people try to use something to prevent becoming parents. The people who think that the church has a place in government throw a fit if someone suggests that the government should regulate their church. The people who throw a fit when the government tells them how they're should think about their sexual partners (anti-homosexuality laws), insists that the government should tell people how to think about their coworkers (mandated "diversity training" sessions). Those that insist that "kids" are responsible enough to take an oath of celibacy, aren't responsible enough to choose a different option. Those that throw a fit when the government tries to tell them how to behave, insist that the government tell others how to behave.

"The land of the free and the home of the brave" is an increasingly restrictive and puritanical backwater that lags behind the rest of the world in the arena of personal freedom. We're small-minded, arrogant bullies who are stupid enough to insist we're right without even knowing what our neighbors might have to say. We're upstart punks who have gotten where we are by virtue of luck, arrogance, and youthful energy. We spit in the faces of our neighbors and then wonder why they don't like us.

Sometimes, I'm truely ashamed to be an American.

I was in the grocery store last night picking up some cheese and butter (yes, this [i]is[/i] the dairy state ) and I noticed a woman that I went to high school with. She looked old. Not excessively old, but.... old. It got me thinking: Do [i]I[/i] look that old?

I often joke about being an old man. I'm bald, I've got bad knees (they actually hurt when the weather changes!) , I need more sleep than I used to... There are days when I feel really old. But most of the time, I honestly don't. I'm not sure exactly how old I feel. I'm able to hold discussions with high school students, and fit in fairly well, but I'm also able to do the same with people in their 70's.

If I really think about it, I don't feel like I'm [i]any[/i] age. I don't pay attention to numbers, I don't celebrate birthdays. I often have to do some quick math to figure out how old I am--because it really matters so little to me. But I'm somewhat curious about how others perceive me. I don't care much how old they think I am, I'm just curious. {shrug} Oh well.. Just another one of those things that my mind fiddles with while I'm standing in line at the store.

It's been 5 years since I've gotten any ink. And that was a small one.

I just finished the first of 3 days under the needle for my new tattoo. I want to say one thing right off the bat: I go to Rick Harnowski, owner of Tattoos by Rick for all my ink. Why? He spent an hour and a half just doing the layout work--making sure that the tattoo fit properly on my body. Half an hour of that was on one 4-inch piece. The man is a perfectionist. [i]That[/i] is why I go to Rick.

Rick was nice enough to let me set up my webcam during the session, so I have 4 hours worth of pics (every 2 minutes) to weed through and pick out the good ones. I haven't even looked through them yet, so I don't know how many are good, and how many are just repeats. Getting a tattoo isn't exactly an exciting thing to watch.

I'll see if I can get 25 or so good pics out of the set and then put them together in a slideshow or something.

Because of all the layout time, we didn't get through the entire side. It's going to take the full 3 sessions to finish these things. The path of the tail is a little different than I had planned, but there's not much we could do about that. Placing a 2D image on a 3D object (my body) is tricky. It's always nice when the people who work in the tattoo shop (including the owner) compliment you on your tat.

Well... I'm at the point of babbling senslessly. I'm excited and tired.

It's a common occurance for random ideas to pop into my head--often ideas which are somewhat complex and... deep (for lack of a better term). I tend to accept these thoughts and run with them. I like to take time to think about things that aren't practical. It gives my mind something to do.

In the last little while, thoughts about fate and free will have popped into my head on several ocassions. I'm of two minds when it comes to fate and predestined events.

There are things I know about myself--things which are consistent, and beyond my control. I never have enough money to get extravagent things (though I have been better off in the last 6 months than I have ever been in my life), but I alway have what I need. It has been almost a running joke that when I would have extra income (from coaching or doing a show or a special project of some kind) something would happen which would cost almost exactly what I made; fuel pump goes out on the Jeep, I need dental work, my winter coat gets ripped... whatever. But I always have enough money to live on. When I was unemployed for 6 weeks, I managed to find little jobs that [i]just[/i] covered my rent, utilities, food, etc. I have never had to worry about being without the necessities. It's as though someone was watching over me.

Is that fate? Is it luck? Or is it something about the way I live?

I know that I will die very old and very much alone. It's just something that I know. I don't put that down to fate, but to the way I live my life. I have the good fortune to come from a very hearty genetic stock (I'm sure my grandfather would just [i]love[/i] to be described that way. ) so the 'very old' part isn't a huge stretch. The 'very much alone' part comes from the way I live my life: I have only a few friends--but those are very close. I don't have a lover/partner/wife/whatever. That's because of two factors: I'm very picky about who I get close to that way, and I'm an annoying old cuss who's really hard to put up with. Not fate..... but not exactly something that's consciously affected.

Some of my friends--including a few who are very close to me and perhaps know me better than I know myself--insist that I'm wrong; that there is someone out there for me, and I will die with that person (or perhaps our children) at my side. {shrug}

I've known others who have stronger belief in fate.... or perhaps it's a [i]hope[/i] in fate. There are those who sit and wait for "fate" to drop something in their lap. That bothers me. Partly because some of those people are people I know.

There are also those that insist that their place in life--that they're treated poorly, used, taken for granted--is somehow the result of fate... that there's no use in trying to change it. That bothers me even more. Again, because some of those people are people that I know. People that I care about.

I don't want to believe in fate. I want to believe that I am in control of my life. But that means that I am also [i]responsible[/i] for my life. That's not necessarily a comforting thought. However, I know that I am where I am because of the choices I have made. Some were good choices, others..... left something to be desired. But they were [b]my[/b] choices. I am where I am--I will be where I shall be--because of what I have done.

And yet.... I can't help but feel that there's something, someone, stepping in to hold me up just enough to keep me going.

Work sucks. I have spent about half the day dealing with idiots who can't be bothered to read the damn instructions or take the time to look for something themselves.

Everybody's orders are, of course, emergencies, but when they're asked to supply some more information, they take their own sweet time.

Our department is 3 people. We're trying to do the work of 4 (one position was cut this year), while learning a new computer system, dealing with the start of the school year, and playing tech-support to 50 schools and and 25 administrative departments. I'm lucky to get any work done at all.

Add to that the fact that the system is rife with bugs, glitches, and other problems, it has a ping-time of up to 5 minutes for an inquiry or change to the database, and the user interface is perhaps the worst I've ever seen.

I have a headache. And it's only thursday.... of a week that started on Tuesday!

Spending all day in the tattoo chair Saturday will be relaxing.

Today was a technical Monday, it was long, utterly unproductive, frustrating, stressful, and it generally sucked ass through a bendy-straw.

So... now I'm home again with a glass of wine in me, and nothing of importance to do. So.... It's time for utterly random comments in the blog.

{sits and stares blankly at the screen for a while}

I wonder how the girls are doing? They haven't posted much in quite a while. It sucks not being able to talk.

I like swing music. I'd forgotten just how much I like it. I need to get more. Lots more.

This past weekend was good. I did almost nothing productive (I broke down and trimmed the hedges... took about 30 minutes, I think). I bought some new DVDs--Batman: the Animated Series, vol 1 and Batman Beyond: the Movie--and spent most of Saturday and Sunday watching cartoons. Monday I did something I haven't done in [i]years[/i]--I laid down on the couch with a new novel, and read it cover to cover. It was a John Varley novel (not exactly Dostoyevsky), so it's not like it's a great accomplishment to read it, but the fact that I actually sat back and read an entire novel in one day is. I used to do that all the time. I'd burn through 2 or 3 novels a week. Over the last several years, though, I've stopped that. There's a number of reasons. For a long time, I was working up to 5 part-time jobs at once, so I didn't exactly have a lot of time to just lay back and read. I've also gotten a bit more fidgety. I think part of that comes from working all those jobs at once; sitting doing nothing became a really alien experience. And, to be honest, a large amount of it has to do with this beast right here: the computer. I sit down and and start talking to people and puttering around with new programs or tweaking webpages, or whatever, and I lose track of time. Suddenly, the night is gone. I think I might start spending a night or two each week at the local coffee shop. It's a little hole in the wall place, but it's got good coffee and chai, and cute young baristas (though it looks like Miss Brooke isn't working there now that college has started up again), and most importantly, it doesn't have any net access. Some things are just too tempting, and the 'net is up at the top.

[url=http://www.imdb.com/gallery/granitz/1918/MargHelgen_Grani_812058_400.jpg?path=pgallery&path_key=Helgenberger,%20Marg] Marge Helgenberger[/url] is hot. (Watching CSI on Spike TV. I [i]told[/i] you this was going to be random.)

Mmmm.. cheeseburger mac. Nice meal. Goes well with shiraz.

Well.... I'm getting distracted by CSI. Time to become a vegetalbe. Maybe a nice rutabega. Or a calrabi.