Irrational thought(s) for the day:
panda bears do not exist. they are black bears masquerading as “panda” bears. do not be fooled by these photographs. panda bears are exactly the same as black bears. all bears are slightly mixed in color. can’t you see the tan snout of the black bear? he is obviously mixed with something. i really see no difference between those bears. however, panda bears bear no resemblance to polar bears. none at all.
one down…
http://cityroom.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/04/08/when-obama-becomes-just-bam/
This is in Harlem.
The Brooklyn establishment has kept the Obama moniker.
From someone’s (http://secretsthatsell.tumblr.com/post/97524473/via-farm1-static-flickr-com-im-doing-my-media) media (ethics?) class:
This Benetton ad was offensive to many readers. Yet its message —that race should not matter—certainly is not offensive. Why do you think the ad was so controversial and, eventually, pulled from distribution? Would you have pulled it?
Uh, no, I would not have. And it was controversial because we are living within the confines of antiquated thinking. Average people thinking average old thoughts questioning nothing criticizing everything and keeping things the same.
Someone found their way to this blog by googling “names that biracial children are called.” I don’t think they got much other than mulatto and the obscure jalopy. Here is a small pictorial…
brass ankle, mutt…
In Munich one morning last week, a little boy named Hans Koegel appeared at the doorway of the Schule in der Blu-menstrasse and nervously entered. Like other children arriving for the first day of school, he clung tightly to his mother, and it was not for several awkward moments that he finally relaxed enough to smile tentatively at his classmates. But even after he did so, his mother and teacher continued to watch him closely.
For several months, parents and teachers all over West Germany have been worried about children like Hans. He is a mulatto, one of some 3,000 who are starting to school for the first time. Almost all are the children of Negro G.I.s, and most are illegitimate. In a nation that still remembers the preachments of Hitler’s Master Race, they were expected to present something of a problem.
Last week, school principals waited worriedly for reports of discrimination or childish cruelty. But as the first days passed, there was only silence. Not one child was singled out for teasing because of his color; not one teacher refused to work in mixed classes; not one Nordic mother took her own child out of school in protest.
As for little Hans, he had become something of a tease himself. His victim: a young towhead by the name of Tűrauf, which Hans thinks is howlingly funny. Tűrauf means “Open the door.”
…the “white man’s burden”….
Remember that movie of the same name with John Travolta and Harry Belafonte? If I recall correctly, I liked it. I think the film was intended to be thought-provoking, leading us to ponder what it would be like if the tables were turned and maybe even to point to the absurdity of the race game in America. But I also remember being kinda horrified thinking, “If this was the reality of the race chain, with blacks on top and whites on the bottom, I’d still be royally screwed!”
I did a google image search for “white man’s burden” and here’s what I found…
Outrageous! Like, I’m literally in an outrage. How about we paint the real story and depict the black men and women carrying the pious white people on their backs while they till the fields and pick the cotton in the hot sun with little nourishment all the while making the white man richer, fatter, heavier! I think Kara Walker got it right…
almost makes me mad at pears the fruit…
the text reads:
the first step towards lightening
The White Man’s Burden
is through teaching the virtues of cleanliness
Pears’ Soap
is a potent factor in brightening the dark corners of the earth as civilization advances, while amongst the cultured of all nations it holds the highest place – it is the ideal toilet soap.
Last updated at 10:33 PM on 10th April 2009
I was born in England, but we moved to Zambia not long afterwards, where we lived until I was three, when we returned to the UK.
My dad, Nick, an artist, is British, but my mum, Nyasha, is a princess of the Shona tribe in Zimbabwe. In Britain she worked as a district nurse, but she retained that incredible African dignity and poise.
Growing up in Penzance, Cornwall, my brother, Jamie, and I were the only black children in the area.
There were the usual cruel names: big ears or big nose. And none of the boys wanted to go out with me. I don’t remember any overt racism, but my mum and I have talked about this and I now know my parents kept us safe from a lot of stuff.
In some ways I’d say I come from Africa, but then I don’t speak my mother’s language, and in other ways I’m British through and through. I suppose I’ve never completely fitted in in either place.
I’ve never taken my husband, Ol, to Zimbabwe, or our daughters, Ripley, eight, and Nico, four. I’ve been waiting for the right time, but there never seems to be a right time to go to there any more.
My mum still goes back every year, and the last time I really wanted to go with her, but she’s very protective and it’s quite risky to travel there at the moment, so she didn’t want me to come. But I want my kids to understand where they come from.
I was in Mali last year visiting some charity projects, and I met a woman who thought I couldn’t carry a bucket of water on my head because I was white. I replied, ‘That’s really interesting because in England, where I’m from, they say I’ve got dark skin.’
She was amazed! So I joked, ‘If you think I’m lightskinned and in England they think I’m dark-skinned, where does that leave me?’ And she said, ‘Well you should come and be here with me – you’re in my family now.’
I thought that was lovely. There was a real feeling of being embraced, which my dad also felt when he went to Zimbabwe to ask my mother’s family for her hand in marriage. Apparently, grandmother just started dancing, which is how they express joy there.
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-1168266/Thandie-Newton-How-feel-mixed-race.html
I really enjoy Thandie Newton. And those girls are adorable! If you haven’t seen Run Fatboy Run, I recommend renting it. It’s funny and I really appreciate the true-to-life casting.
Some of us haven’t come very far….
A recent picture on the cover of Go! magazine, a regular section in the St. Louis Post-Dispatch
The photo of a couple kissing corresponded to the story “The 7 Best Places To Smooch.”
Many readers did not seem interested in the kissing locations. They could not see past that insidious, hideous photo. Some reader comments:
From 1buschstadiumplz: “Haven’t read the story but dont like to see blacks and whites kissing;”
From taxpayer came this remark: ”This doesn’t surprise me at all. Libs take every opportunity they can to shove miscegnation in our faces. Now that TV has to show blacks in every commercial, notice that they are always posed beside a blonde woman. Not a brunette, a blonde. Its done for shock value. Sickening that a once proud newspaper would resort ot this. Joe Pulitzer is turning over in his grave in shame.”
Reader greggh tried a middle-of-the-road approach: “I’m not judging the concept of biracial couples at all, but in a city as racially polarized as St. Louis, I’m shocked that the PD would go so out of its way to be so gratuitously provacative. This completely undercut the message of the article.”
Source: St. Louis Post Dispatch
Gratuitously provocative?! And all that other stuff!? How can this be in this lovely “post-racial” society we’ve cultivated? Oh dear…
partially reblogged from: http://blackpoliticalthought.blogspot.com/2009/04/black-man-kissing-white-woman-on-cover.html
Here are a few provocative photos I found on the internet. Viewer discretion is advised.
mulatto diaries 