Extreme Prejudice
Sep. 25th, 2008 04:15 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
penfield"I'm free of all prejudices. I hate everyone equally."
- W. C. Fields
Not long ago, a friend was telling me about a strange encounter he had with a mutual friend-of-a-friend who made a flagrantly ignorant and inflammatory comment about Senator Barack Obama. (Indicentally, all the propagandists out there need to decide whether they want to decry Obama's extremist alliance with Reverend Jeremiah Wright or his stealth Islamism; their like-minded cronies are picking out armbands.)
The anecdote as he told it was so frightening and absurd that I first suspected that it had merely been a fever dream. It shocked me that someone within my circle of friends and over the age of 12 would discharge such venom. I was still dumbfounded by it when I mentioned it to J.
"If you ever said something like that, I'd break up with you," I said.
She reacted with nervous silence.
"What is it?" I asked.
"Well," she replied, "You can be pretty harsh sometimes."
"Harsh?"
"And cruel."
"Cruel?"
"And prejudiced." And she gave me a look that said "I love you, but you sure aren't perfect."
The thought stopped me cold. I've always considered myself an open-minded live-and-let-live kind of guy. Sure, I have at times unleashed my wrath upon generalized groups of people; some of that is for dramatic effect but some of that is devised to make a larger point about people in general. Furthermore, I'd like to think that I am an equal-opportunity hater and I take pains to criticize myself as often as I insult others. And in those instances when my anxiety comes from a truly flawed or unseemly place, I at least try to own up to it.
Of course, prejudices and other heuristics do have biosocial "survival" value, in that they allow us to make certain shortcuts without always thinking so much. They are hard-wired to our limbic system, the most primitive part of the brain that governs our fight-or-flight response. This explains why, when you come across a guy wearing a confederate flag pin, you either want to run away or brain him with a length of pipe. It's not logical; removing the morality of the situation, you're just as prejudiced as Pin-Wearing Bigot. It's instinctual. Animal. Human.
But this truth also functions as a convenient rationalization, and we must be vigilant against it with hightened awareness of our own prejudices. In the interest of this transparency, here is a list of people/groups that I dislike for purely superficial reasons. I'm not proud, but I'm not necessary ashamed, either. Some of these people really do deserve to be segregated, sterilized and manually re-educated.
The issue that prompted J.'s ire was a recently verbalized frustration with fat people. But this itself is an overgeneralization. My beef (no pun intended) primarily regards the occasional infringement of excess humanity upon my seat in movie theaters, airplanes or Metro cars. It is a purely selfish and loathesome position, but I cannot deny it. I do fully appreciate that obesity can be caused by a number of various heredetary and biochemical factors, but it is much easier to imagine -- indeed, difficult not to imagine -- said person sitting on a sofa and eating multiple cartons of ice cream with a spoon the size of a snow shovel. (And I say this as a person who loves ice cream a little too much, myself.) Moreover, I think we can all agree that there is an instinctual, fundamental notion that each human being is inherently equal and is entitled to all of the same rights. But here we have some people taking up more than their share of "space," and I can't help but find this sort of inequitable.
I understand that we're a capitalist, consumer society and all that, but some people take it too far. I call them "Labelists" -- people who pay a ridiculous premium for the mere appearance of taste, regardless of whether it reflects actual taste or taste's inbred cousin, trendiness. You fall into this category if you pay more than $5 for a bottle of water, $100 for jeans or $20 for a pair of sunglasses. I have news for you: you look like a poser, you are destroying our culture and I'm blaming you for our economy's runaway inflation.
Speaking of sunglasses, there are two kinds of people who wear sunglasses indoors: blind people and assholes. I don't care if you're hungover; take it like a man. I don't care if you have a bloody, pusy infection; get an eyepatch. I don't care if you're trying to sleep; take up space somewhere else. Would John Wayne wear sunglasses indoors? Would Abraham Lincoln wear sunglasses indoors? Would Rosa Parks wear sunglasses indoors? No. Now: Would Tom Cruise wear sunglasses indoors? Would Ann Coulter wear sunglasses indoors? Would Kim Jong Il wear sunglasses indoors? I think you see my point. (Additional demerits if you're wearing those ridiculously enormous suglasses. They don't make you look like Gloria Vanderbilt; they make you look like something nesting in my basement.)
This one is going to make me sound like an old fart or fuddy-duddy, but: you people, mostly errant youths, who wear your pants sagging below the waist? I don't have a problem with the hip-hop ethos or whatever ultra-relaxed, lean and hungry look you're trying to cultivate. But I am petrified that with your juvenile horseplay and exaggerated walking motion, somehow I am going to catch a glimpse of your bare pimply ass, or worse, you're going to fall down and I'll have to go through the effort of stepping over you. What further infuriates me is that most of these droopy pants have belts. Belts! Having a belt on your pants and letting them still droop is like buying a car and pushing it to work. Idiots.
Bicyclists. Generally, I think bicycling is a fine pursuit. Part of a healthy lifestyle, good for the environment, much less deadly with a drunk driver. My problem is with the attitude of bicyclists, who seem to think themselves immune to society's laws. When they want to ride in the street, they ride in the street, weaving and zooming from lane to lane, occasionally signaling with their middle finger. But when they don't want to stop at a stop light, or yield to pedestrians, or decelerate from light speed, they pretend like they're on their own. They seem to think they can fly through busy intersections and hop onto sidewalks as long as they're wearing a helmet and extremely tight shorts. Is it a sense of moral entitlement run amok, or mere bravado? I blame Lance Armstrong.
(I dislike people who wear those ARMSTRONG rubber bracelets, too. We get it, you're a good person. How about donating money without contributing to the depletion of fossil fuels required by the rubber vulcanization process?)
Then there are people who talk in the restroom. Doesn't anyone respect the code of silence anymore? Are people so isolated by their workaday lives, so desperate for human interaction that they will attempt to commune with the nearest available person, even if they are evacuating their lower intestine? A public restroom -- at least, every bathroom I've ever been in -- is not a salon, where people go to exchange thoughts and ideas. It is not a place you want to "hang around" at all. It is the kind of place where you want to get in and get out as quickly as possible, preferably opening only the absolutely necessary orifices. Save the awkward small talk for the elevator. (And while we're on this subject of restroom etiquette, can we have a rule where if two guys go into a restroom at the same time and there are only two urinals, one guy has to go and use the stall? I have a naturally shy bladder and hate feeling like I'm in some sort of race.
Last, but not finally, I'm not sure if I hate people who spit on the ground, because I can't even begin to understand it. What possesses people to hawk their loogies onto the sidewalk, where it can alight on the bottom of my shoe and make its way into my home, infesting my own personal carpet. These people are essentially spitting on my carpet. And why? Can't they swallow their saliva like normal people? When exactly did idiots go from drooling to spitting? Sometimes, when I think about things like this, I secretly hope Palin gets her hands on the nuclear codes.
I apologize if I've inadverently mentioned any of you, my dear readers, in this list. But that's the beauty of broad, generalized prejudices: no one can take it personally.
- W. C. Fields
Not long ago, a friend was telling me about a strange encounter he had with a mutual friend-of-a-friend who made a flagrantly ignorant and inflammatory comment about Senator Barack Obama. (Indicentally, all the propagandists out there need to decide whether they want to decry Obama's extremist alliance with Reverend Jeremiah Wright or his stealth Islamism; their like-minded cronies are picking out armbands.)
The anecdote as he told it was so frightening and absurd that I first suspected that it had merely been a fever dream. It shocked me that someone within my circle of friends and over the age of 12 would discharge such venom. I was still dumbfounded by it when I mentioned it to J.
"If you ever said something like that, I'd break up with you," I said.
She reacted with nervous silence.
"What is it?" I asked.
"Well," she replied, "You can be pretty harsh sometimes."
"Harsh?"
"And cruel."
"Cruel?"
"And prejudiced." And she gave me a look that said "I love you, but you sure aren't perfect."
The thought stopped me cold. I've always considered myself an open-minded live-and-let-live kind of guy. Sure, I have at times unleashed my wrath upon generalized groups of people; some of that is for dramatic effect but some of that is devised to make a larger point about people in general. Furthermore, I'd like to think that I am an equal-opportunity hater and I take pains to criticize myself as often as I insult others. And in those instances when my anxiety comes from a truly flawed or unseemly place, I at least try to own up to it.
Of course, prejudices and other heuristics do have biosocial "survival" value, in that they allow us to make certain shortcuts without always thinking so much. They are hard-wired to our limbic system, the most primitive part of the brain that governs our fight-or-flight response. This explains why, when you come across a guy wearing a confederate flag pin, you either want to run away or brain him with a length of pipe. It's not logical; removing the morality of the situation, you're just as prejudiced as Pin-Wearing Bigot. It's instinctual. Animal. Human.
But this truth also functions as a convenient rationalization, and we must be vigilant against it with hightened awareness of our own prejudices. In the interest of this transparency, here is a list of people/groups that I dislike for purely superficial reasons. I'm not proud, but I'm not necessary ashamed, either. Some of these people really do deserve to be segregated, sterilized and manually re-educated.
The issue that prompted J.'s ire was a recently verbalized frustration with fat people. But this itself is an overgeneralization. My beef (no pun intended) primarily regards the occasional infringement of excess humanity upon my seat in movie theaters, airplanes or Metro cars. It is a purely selfish and loathesome position, but I cannot deny it. I do fully appreciate that obesity can be caused by a number of various heredetary and biochemical factors, but it is much easier to imagine -- indeed, difficult not to imagine -- said person sitting on a sofa and eating multiple cartons of ice cream with a spoon the size of a snow shovel. (And I say this as a person who loves ice cream a little too much, myself.) Moreover, I think we can all agree that there is an instinctual, fundamental notion that each human being is inherently equal and is entitled to all of the same rights. But here we have some people taking up more than their share of "space," and I can't help but find this sort of inequitable.
I understand that we're a capitalist, consumer society and all that, but some people take it too far. I call them "Labelists" -- people who pay a ridiculous premium for the mere appearance of taste, regardless of whether it reflects actual taste or taste's inbred cousin, trendiness. You fall into this category if you pay more than $5 for a bottle of water, $100 for jeans or $20 for a pair of sunglasses. I have news for you: you look like a poser, you are destroying our culture and I'm blaming you for our economy's runaway inflation.
Speaking of sunglasses, there are two kinds of people who wear sunglasses indoors: blind people and assholes. I don't care if you're hungover; take it like a man. I don't care if you have a bloody, pusy infection; get an eyepatch. I don't care if you're trying to sleep; take up space somewhere else. Would John Wayne wear sunglasses indoors? Would Abraham Lincoln wear sunglasses indoors? Would Rosa Parks wear sunglasses indoors? No. Now: Would Tom Cruise wear sunglasses indoors? Would Ann Coulter wear sunglasses indoors? Would Kim Jong Il wear sunglasses indoors? I think you see my point. (Additional demerits if you're wearing those ridiculously enormous suglasses. They don't make you look like Gloria Vanderbilt; they make you look like something nesting in my basement.)
This one is going to make me sound like an old fart or fuddy-duddy, but: you people, mostly errant youths, who wear your pants sagging below the waist? I don't have a problem with the hip-hop ethos or whatever ultra-relaxed, lean and hungry look you're trying to cultivate. But I am petrified that with your juvenile horseplay and exaggerated walking motion, somehow I am going to catch a glimpse of your bare pimply ass, or worse, you're going to fall down and I'll have to go through the effort of stepping over you. What further infuriates me is that most of these droopy pants have belts. Belts! Having a belt on your pants and letting them still droop is like buying a car and pushing it to work. Idiots.
Bicyclists. Generally, I think bicycling is a fine pursuit. Part of a healthy lifestyle, good for the environment, much less deadly with a drunk driver. My problem is with the attitude of bicyclists, who seem to think themselves immune to society's laws. When they want to ride in the street, they ride in the street, weaving and zooming from lane to lane, occasionally signaling with their middle finger. But when they don't want to stop at a stop light, or yield to pedestrians, or decelerate from light speed, they pretend like they're on their own. They seem to think they can fly through busy intersections and hop onto sidewalks as long as they're wearing a helmet and extremely tight shorts. Is it a sense of moral entitlement run amok, or mere bravado? I blame Lance Armstrong.
(I dislike people who wear those ARMSTRONG rubber bracelets, too. We get it, you're a good person. How about donating money without contributing to the depletion of fossil fuels required by the rubber vulcanization process?)
Then there are people who talk in the restroom. Doesn't anyone respect the code of silence anymore? Are people so isolated by their workaday lives, so desperate for human interaction that they will attempt to commune with the nearest available person, even if they are evacuating their lower intestine? A public restroom -- at least, every bathroom I've ever been in -- is not a salon, where people go to exchange thoughts and ideas. It is not a place you want to "hang around" at all. It is the kind of place where you want to get in and get out as quickly as possible, preferably opening only the absolutely necessary orifices. Save the awkward small talk for the elevator. (And while we're on this subject of restroom etiquette, can we have a rule where if two guys go into a restroom at the same time and there are only two urinals, one guy has to go and use the stall? I have a naturally shy bladder and hate feeling like I'm in some sort of race.
Last, but not finally, I'm not sure if I hate people who spit on the ground, because I can't even begin to understand it. What possesses people to hawk their loogies onto the sidewalk, where it can alight on the bottom of my shoe and make its way into my home, infesting my own personal carpet. These people are essentially spitting on my carpet. And why? Can't they swallow their saliva like normal people? When exactly did idiots go from drooling to spitting? Sometimes, when I think about things like this, I secretly hope Palin gets her hands on the nuclear codes.
I apologize if I've inadverently mentioned any of you, my dear readers, in this list. But that's the beauty of broad, generalized prejudices: no one can take it personally.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
Jim McMahon
Date: 2008-09-26 12:04 am (UTC)