Characteristic Humor

I feel like I don't let enough of myself come out in this blog. I overthink it. Which is stupid. I generally like what I write in other places, so I should just let if flow. I mean, I did read that last night (I had it in print at 2 AM...I'm completely unable to look at a computer screen comprehendingly after 1 AM. You can read it here). So, I'm just going to talk about whatever is in my head.

And right now, what I'm thinking about is K'Fain. At lunch today, there was a general consensus at the theatre table that she and I, while good apart, are usually much better together. We haven't been spending much time around one another, so we were both at full wit potential today. I imagine that will keep going for the rest of the night.

But, an interesting topic of conversation was brought up at lunch. We sat down, and my friend Davis, out of the blue, much like she usually does, turned to my friend Marty and said, "I don't understand why people are called African-American. I mean, you're not from Africa. You're from America." With that little comment, and his broad-sided stare, that set off our conversation.

People exploded into conversation, tip-toeing around the right words to use, but mostly just plowing through. We generally came to a consensus. Among our 2 white girls, 2 white guys, 1 black guy, and 1 mixed origins guy, we decided that it didn't really offend any of us to just be called American or whatever the color of our skin was. That doesn't really matter. Because none of us have any desire to go to Africa. I mean, I might end up there in the Peace Corps (damn you, basic French!), but there's not really a huge draw for most of the continent. You can go see the room where Angelina Jolie had her baby. Or, you could go and see a world really trying to get itself on its feet.

However, Africa is not where I tend to think about going for mindless fun. Somebody really needs to put some development dollars into that area. It really is an untapped region. Hello? I'm basically saying that I need a Disney in the Congo. I think that it would work out really well. And it would get people out of the house.

So, we talked about Africa's possibilities as a future entertainment venue, and then Davis piped up again: "I think I'm a Native American." Once again, we all stop and turn and stare. "I mean, I was born here, I've never even been anywhere else. I'm about as native as it gets." Sam, who is part Native American (enough to belong to a tribe's rez), was a little taken aback. And for some reason, people were more into defending Native American than African American. And I don't exactly understand why, but I have the same feeling. I mean, do we subconsciously quantify suffering? Do we compare genocide and the Trail of Tears to slavery? Do we still, in the South and in America, consider the tone of somebody's skin as it relates to lily-ass white? Or is it just something we've never thought about and we're dealing with issues which cafeteria food really isn't inspiring.

Anywho, that reminded me of the xkcd.com comic below.



























And that is my scattershot post. Hells yes, stream of consciousness