owlolive

Everything that matters to me (and maybe you as well)

Archive for the tag “rant”

And Now, A Crazy, Racist Dose of Bloodline “Purity”

a9eel2

Story time: So a few days ago I was having a casual lunch with a friend of mine and, as does sometimes happen, she invited one of her own friends to drop by and join us. I didn’t mind because, you know, I like people (and new people too? Variety!). My friend’s friend arrived, we talked, we ate hamburgers, we enjoyed each other’s casual company. Then, as nonchalant as ever, my friends friend nibbles on a few french fries, fiddles with her phone, and casually shares a funny little anecdote that goes something like this:

“Oh, my mom is so excited cause she just got back these lab test results which prove that our family lineage is totally pure-bred.

She had said this in Arabic, of course, and for ‘pure-bred’ she used the ever dignified, somewhat widespread and unequivocally racist word: A9eelen (أصيلين). YUP. That’s right. Racism: alive and well and scientifically proven! Thank you, humanity, for reaffirming my faith in you.

Now, this was not the first time that I was exposed to this very disturbing side of Kuwaiti social culture. A friend of mine has actually suffered due to this brand of racist ‘blood’ elitism. I’ve heard this term flung around in a number of occasions between my Kuwaiti friends (or more like acquaintances, I don’t closely associate myself with racists and none of my good Kuwaiti friends are anything like that). But, for crying out loud, sometimes the level of human crazy charts a new high on the Richter scale. And in regards to this bug-nutty, koo-koo ‘a9eel’ crap this is the latest Richter scale reading:

Whaaaaaaaaaaaat.

How ancient and delusional do you have to be to actually invest in this kind of idea? Like, to actually wake up every morning, go about your day, deal with different people and, in the midst of all that, be like, “That’s riiiiight! My blooood! My blood’s the purest blood! So glad I have this blood and not that gross NOT PURE BLOOD. It makes me a way better human being!”

I mean, really? You look down upon people who you SOMEHOW believe are less ‘pure’ than you? You believe in a “master lineage”? I’m sorry, but if that’s not the hackiest, vaguest premise for any kind of social racism I don’t know what is. And, gosh, don’t you know that modern racists have learned to cloak their racism behind creative language about “social backgrounds” and “values”? Catch up please.

You know, a part of me feels uncomfortable for trying to make jokes about this kind of behavior because, clearly, this is a messed up and truly dangerous social attitude for anyone to have. Obviously, these kinds of perspectives (which are really not infrequent at all in Kuwait) need to be stopped and not catered to whatsoever. But I honestly just cannot wrap my head around the sheer absurdity of believing in something like racial, bloodline ‘purity.’ This is some seriously old-timey nonsense garbage right here.

I mean, if you believe in and publicly support this insane idea of racial purity you are, essentially, separating yourself from the rest of freaking humanity. Because when it comes to you actually being a sane, happy, truly productive member of society I’m pretty sure that “Don’t Be A Racist Tool” is like the 2nd most important personal quality you need to have after, like, “Don’t Be A Weasel.”

Also, what are you doing with science? Science is way too busy for you. You do not get to use science for your racist reassurance woes. I mean, honestly, someone using cutting edge, scientific technology to try to prove something as anciently offensive and backwards as the ‘purity’ of their racial lineage is the biggest insult to ALL OF HUMAN SCIENCE. That’s like using NASA’s latest solar satellite to prove that the Earth is actually flat. No. You do not get to talk to science anymore. Go to the naughty corner!

So, just to get this ‘a9eel’ business totally straight, here’s the basic gist of what the people who truly believe in this stuff are actually like: They look down upon certain people (in various degrees) because they believe that these poor, lowly individuals have some racially, blood-infused inferiority which makes them not worth as much. BUT! They’re not really all that sure of what this inferiority even is SO THEY HAVE TO USE A TEAM OF SCIENTISTS to figure that out for them. And, of course, they have to use those same scientists to prove that they themselves are, indeed, not of this lowly, stinky, and VERY VAGUELY ‘UN-PURE’ lineage. Basically, they’re the most half-assed and weirdly disturbing kind of racist. The kind that doesn’t even really know what they’re racist against, but chooses to be racist anyway.

Sigh.

All my love!

Here’s To Writer’s Block! (And The Irony of Writing About It)

Ah, writer’s block. That impregnable lump that weighs your head and your tongue down at the first instance of expression. The feeling of complete and utter incapability that creeps all the way down to the tips of your fingers and suspends them in a hovering paralysis above the keyboard every single time.

And, hey, you’ve got the ideas; you’ve got the subjects; you’ve even got the voice circling in your head telling you exactly how to say what you want to say. But yet, you sit at your laptop, hoist your fingers up to those fateful keys and are physically unable to move. To make a single, lightweight tap against any random letter seems almost too daunting a task to pursue.

All you’re thinking is: What in THE HELL is that?

Seriously, this is an issue that I’ve been grappling with in the last couple of weeks or so. The issue of extreme writer’s block that gets in the way between my thoughts/experiences/opinions/whatever and my physical ability to actually put them down in written form. I’m not entirely sure what’s been bringing on this God awful, incredibly long, verbal dry spill but, let me tell you, it is excruciating.

Especially if you depend on writing as your bread and butter or if you write professionally. And its even worse when you actually enjoy the act of writing and are passionate about it as both a method of expression and as an art form.

At that point you feel like you could just hurl yourself off of a ten foot building just so you can hear the sound of your useless brain splattering across the pavement and to prove to yourself that you do, indeed, possess a brain at all.

Really. That’s exactly how that feels.

And, I’ve tried everything. I’ve tried distracting myself away from writing with food, music, fresh air, and all other forms of merriment. I’ve tried reshaping my day a few times in order to get myself out from under any routine, hum-drum, lethargic dark clouds I may have unintentionally wandered into. I’ve even tried eating lots of nutmeg because I’ve heard it enhances brain power.

Only three things came of these attempts: weight gain, a broken alarm clock, and a slightly backed-up colon.

Words? Not on the menu.

So I asked another writer friend of mine how she might deal with such an overwhelming bout of verbal blockage and she suggested I get over writer’s block by trying to write about writer’s block. And, yes, I realized that there would be an obvious irony in the fact that I’d be attempting to write about my inability to write but, apparently, its got a cathartic effect to it. Something to do with reverse psychology and donkeys being lured with carrots.

But, really, whatever the rationalization seems to be, I’ll take anything at this point. I am down for any form of written expression that my brain can afford to produce. Even if it’s the most ironic, self-contradicting piece of pointless babble I’ve ever committed to the (virtual) page.

Because, hell, at least it’s something.

All my love!

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