One such person is a man named Cormac, who is a friend of Pickle, who is my very good friend.
While at Donnybrook last night, we were discussing racism, like you do now in this country. Particularly when both your gene pool and your friend pool looks like a less-creepy Benetton ad (or maybe a more-accessible Bennington ad). And I asserted that everyone is racist, at least in this country (I mean, technically, you'd be a moron if you brain didn't discern, classify and remember visual and social cues--it's the judgments that we ascribe to these that are often manipulated, as perceptions often are, and that we must be wary of/accountable for), and that it's really a matter of whether you are the kind of person who is willing/capable of going there, or if your behavioral training--due to your parents or yourself--is otherwise.
I am often impressed by my friends who have been shaped under the heatlamp of white liberal guilt. It's amazing how far they don't go at times... in terms of not pulling out the racist stereotype when it would clearly fit the bill. Being a person of color, I just don't know what that's like, since we are the most racist people on the planet. We revel in it. It's going to be so hard to let go.
And I don't necessarily always feel like it's them being P.C. or sugar coating things, as much as that is just an area they have been trained that they have no place in. Often that can be part of the problem when trying to engage the conversation--letting people know that they don't have to eat at the kid table, and in fact, they can't anymore. But in other cases, in a very grown up way, they have just learned not to let an easy stereotype prevent them f
But I digress...
The example I gave to support this had to do with relationships--how there are some guys who just really don't have it in them to hit a woman. I mean, physically, it can be done, and often they have probably wanted to. But their girlfriend can have a fight all up in their face, be hitting them, call them a faggot and talk about their mother--all the things that are pretty much at the top of the list of stuff that should get you clocked in the box, and and that guy will just get upset and grunt and curl his lips up and gesticulate but not do what everyone (incl
Point being--going back to the Clock in the Box list--talking about someone's mother is kind of #1 in terms of fighting words. If you escalate the argument to, "everybody knows your momma is a stank ho, " or "your momma didn't say that when she was fucking me last night," you want to start swingin'. That's what you've just asked for.
However, sometimes you want to have a verbal argument with someone, and not actually come to blows. You want to just hurt them on the inside and then wal
All I am saying is, everyone's got one. Why shouldn't it be thrown in your face?
All I am saying is, most people in this country are wimps. If you are sitting in front of a screen, reading this, chances are you are working on a healthy fear/improbability of human interaction, and the only punch you want to encounter anytime soon comes in a juice pouch. Now, there is also a meaty center section in a Venn diagram representing people whose childhood memories are a shit-show starring a certain Pater Familias. All I am saying is, fight smarter, not harder. Behind every cooter punch is a deeply-set pair of balls. Let things descend all the way down to dirty daddy, and then start swingin'.