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The secret is out.

I’ve been trying online dating for a little over a year now. There’s been some small successes, one failure, and dozens of deleted messages from what could only be a wooly mammoth scientists recently thawed out of an iceberg. But through all 55 weeks of this experience, one unchanging truth remains: people are morons.

Experts say that 54.6% of online daters describe themselves by saying they “like to have fun,” and by experts I clearly mean me. After all I should know: I’m an expert.

You like to have fun. Of course you do. If something is fun it provides amusement or enjoyment, so in other words, you like doing it. It is by sheer definition impossible to feel any other way about it. Unless you live in some Addam’s Family parallel universe where good is bad, right is wrong, and Christina Ricci’s isn’t hot yet, you can’t help but “like fun.”

Do you see where I’m going with this? The statement “I like to have fun” practically consumes itself in circular logic and, if meditaded upon for more than ten seconds, is certain to make your head spontaneously combust. Go ahead and try. I dare you. But I’m not going to be the one to Squeejie your cerebellum off your monitor.

If you join a site that requires you to describe yourself please, for the sake of all that is good in this world, don’t use this sentence. Describe yourself. Say you “like fine dining”. Say you enjoy the outdoors, hiking, or kayaking. Hell, say you like snuff films and that hunting the homeless gives you an erection. At least that makes a statement about your character.

I take that back: saying you like to have fun does make a statement about you: it says you’re an idiot. But don’t despair: that perfect someone who “loves to laugh” is out there, just waiting for you to help them spawn a family of mutant offspring, thus pissing in mankind’s already stagnant gene pool.

Given the high price and low quality of music today I imagine I don’t have to struggle to convince anyone that the music industry has been hijacked by big business. Music sucks. Stars are chosen and groomed by the main stream media rather than chosen for their talent by fans and, as it turns out, most folks are actually delighted to be relieved of the responsibility of choosing their own musical tastes. Call me crazy but I like to listen to music, and I’m just not hearing much worth listening to these days.

The industry is full of clock-punchers: the so-called artists that seemingly have a track quota they need to meet each year which they fill with generic lyrics born less from the heart than the wallet. I expect this sort of sell-out behavior from rap and rock; after all, musicians are like the rest of us and we all have a tenancy to mellow with age. So we’ve got guys that once sang songs like Cop Killa and Fuck tha’ Police playing detectives on TV and making children’s movies. As I said, I expect this sort of behavior from rap and rock and all of their subgenres because it’s so difficult to keep up that booze-drinking, drug-doing, groupie-banging pace as well as the level of anger that makes a legendary rap or rock song. And with social security being what it is, I understand Ice Cube’s need for a paycheck.

But I expected more from you, country music. You used to be about hard work, rebelliousness, heartbreak, and making bad decisions. Did you stop singing about hard work because the media keeps telling us that Americans are lazy? Has there been a time since 1861 when we’ve needed a little rebellion in our hearts more than we do today? Did relationships all of the sudden get simple while I was busy picking at my emotional wounds to the tunes of Tammy Wynette? And when did we stop enjoying a good soundtrack to go along with our mischief? Country music, I just don’t know who you are anymore.

Luckily the spirit of country is alive and well in the form of Hank Williams III. When I listened to Hank III for the first time two months ago I actually had to ask around to confirm that he really was off the radar of country fans and not just my own. You’d think the grandson and son of two of country’s biggest legends would have more respect in Nashville, but they’re not giving it and he wouldn’t want it if they were.

As soon as I heard the following lyrics, I knew I was in love.

I’m here to put the dick in Dixie
And the cunt back in country
Cuz the kind of shit I’m hearing nowadays
Is a bunch of fuckin shit to me.

He’s got the voice of Hank Senior, the piss and vinegar of his dad, and more than a little rebelliousness all his own. But he’s more than just the progeny of these two legends. The themes of his music go back to the roots of country but have a modern, sometimes almost punkish sound (Hank himself says he’s influences by cow punk). He’s rebellious; he’s hard working; he makes some bad decisions; and he’s the future that country music should have had.

There was a day not so long ago when I thought racism was funny. I’d tell a racist joke and would almost immediately backpedal into a disclaimer like “I’m not racist, I have black friends!” Or I’d launch into a false justification about the difference between racism, stereotyping, and simply cracking a joke.

But in truth I have one black friend and, if we’re going to talk in stereotypes, she’s just as “white” as I am, which just goes to show that stereotypes are made to be broken. My perspective on other races and cultures has been shaped by the media, and chances are good that yours has too. Most of us here in central Pennsylvania and areas like it have absolutely no frame of reference in the real world on which to base racial judgments.

I don’t find racism as funny as I once did and I’ve got a black comedian to thank for that. Dave Chappelle attempted to deal with bigotry through satire and, after two successful seasons realized that most of his audience just didn’t get the joke. Before he walked off a stage in Sacramento he stated,

“You know why my show is good? Because the network officials say you’re not smart enough to get what I’m doing, and every day I fight for you. I tell them how smart you are. Turns out, I was wrong. You people are stupid.”

Chappelle realized we were laughing along with the racism rather than at the absurdity with which he portrayed it. The fact is most of us don’t understand race. I know I don’t and I can never hope to, which brings me to this disingenuous “white pride” tirade that more than a few friends of mine actually had the audacity to pass on. If I thought any of you actually had an ounce of pride in your heritage I’d stay silent, but “white” isn’t a heritage: it’s a color.

In exercising your “white pride” you’ve all managed to stereotype yourselves too; and what does the stereotypical white person believe? Let’s read on and find out. I can only write from my own personal experience so, if I’m wrong, feel free to disagree. The original post is bold and my thoughts will follow. Thanks for hearing me out.

You call me, “redneck”, “hillbilly”, “slaker”, “Cracker”, “Honkey”, “Whitey”, “Gringo” “albino ” and you think it’s OK.

…But when I call you porch monkey, coon,jiggaboo, Kike, sand nigger, rag head ,Towelhead, WOP, diego, kraut, spooks, paki, beaner, wetback, spik, polock, Camel Jockey, Jap, Gook, slant eyes or Chink you call me a racist.

The best justification you can come up with for using racist labels is that “they’re doing it too?” As compelling an argument as that is, I don’t buy it. If you’re not a racist, you have no reason to use racist slang; and if you are a racist you have no right to complain about being called one. Racism isn’t just a disease of white society: rather ironically as I see it, racism itself is totally colorblind in choosing its victims. But it’s still wrong, and it’s still a disease.

-You say that whites commit a lot of violence against you, so why are the ghettos the most dangerous places to live?

Of course ghettos are a violent place to live. That’s what happens when a lot of poor, discontent, and disenfranchised people are forced to live out their lives in squalor with little opportunity to do better. Look no further than the Middle East if you need proof. Today black on black violence is more prevalent than the white on black variety, but you can’t dismiss the fact that minorities have been forced to inhabit these places partially because of historical government policies, with government being a predominantly white institution. So even black-on-black violence has a little shade of white in it somewhere.

But complaints about white on black oppression and violence are largely based in the past, though to some the wounds are still wide open and manifest as bigotry in both races. Civil rights activists that actually care and seek to overcome our embarrassing past have been asking angry black youths for years to abandon the victim mindset, stop blaming the white man for their problems, and start looking for solutions. I say civil rights activists that actually care because we still have a few opportunists who make money by exploiting racial tension.
-You have the United Negro College Fund.

To put this in perspective, “In 2005, the UNCF supported approximately 65,000 students at over 900 colleges and universities with approximately $113 million in grants and scholarships” (Wikipedia). If you do the math, that’s an average of $1,738 per student, or about one third of one semester at a public school. When discussing the cost of education this amounts to mere pennies on the dollar, so why complain? Besides, if you’re hardworking and driven you can find money to pay for college regardless of your skin tone.

-You have Martin Luther King Day.

And so do the rest of us. Civil rights are something to be celebrated by everyone, not just African Americans. Plus I’m white and I still get the day off because I work at a high school. I’m not complaining.

-You have Black History Month.

Coincidentally many blacks agree with you that Black History Month is pointless, as black history is as much a part of American history as the Revolutionary War. If history is taught correctly, anyone attending a high school level U.S. history course can’t help but learn about it.
-You have Cesar Chavez Day.

Actually I don’t have Cesar Chavez Day. It’s only a holiday in four states; and what’s wrong with Cesar Chavez? He fought for the rights of farm workers, and actually opposed illegal immigration because it negatively affected the wages of farm laborers.

-You have Yom Hashoah

Yom Hashoah is a day of remembrance for holocaust survivors and it’s only a national holiday in Israel. Frankly I think it ought to be on our American calendars as well. The lessons of the holocaust are too important to be forgotten. But I suppose Jews ought to forget about their dead as we should forget about ours from 9/11, right? Is that what you’re getting at?

-You have Ma’uled Al-Nabi

Muslims have Mawlid an-Nabi (Muhammad’s birthday). Christians have Christmas. I think the only people who really ought to be jealous are atheists, so quit whining.

-You have the NAACP.

Do you understand how civil rights work? In a nation run by a government which has actually passed laws legalizing discrimination and poor treatment of some subset of its population, that subset must act as a single cohesive unit in order to show strength and thus force social change. Not that it matters; whoever wrote this trash is obviously grasping at straws, looking at their color, then deciding whether or not he should hate them.

-You have BET.

Yes but I can’t imagine they’re very proud of the fact.

-If we had WET(white entertainment television) …we’d be racist.

As a matter of fact we do have White Entertainment Television. You can tune in on any channel that’s not BET.

-If we had a White Pride Day… you would call us racist.

White Pride Day… what would that entail? In fact what does it mean to be proud of one’s whiteness? Why would you be proud of (or ashamed, or feel anything else about) the lack of pigment in your skin? What value could that possibly have? I understand pride in one’s culture, one’s religion or one’s nation, but color? Color is an attribute completely outside of one’s own control. You had no choice in selecting it, and you certainly couldn’t change it if you wanted to; and it’s literally impossible to display pride in one’s own color except by contrasting it and showing contempt for someone else’s.

Besides, no one is celebrating Black Pride day or anything like it. They’re celebrating important dates in the history of their culture, both happy and sad. If you want to celebrate important holidays in your culture, you might want to start by learning about where you come from instead of focusing on something as meaningless as skin color.

-If we had white history month… we’d be racist.

Every month is white history month, just as many blacks would argue that every month is black history month.

-If we had an organization for only whites to “advance” our lives… we’d be racist.

We did: it was called the United States government, and fortunately somewhere along the way it was decided that all men really are created equal and so our government ought to treat them as such.

-If we had a college fund that only gave white students scholarships…you know we’d be racist.

I’ll concede a point here. This has actually happened, with the predicted result. Preferential treatment based on skin color is racism regardless of whom it benefits or harms.

-In the Million Man March, you believed that you were marching for your race and rights. If we marched for our race and rights…you would call us racist.

If you didn’t march for your rights I’d call you un-American. As for marching for your race, when the government starts to take away your rights based on the color of your skin I’ll be right there with you. In an intelligent nation such as ours this should never happen again.

-Did you know that some high school students decided to make a club for only the white students because the other ethnicities had them… they all got sent to court for being racist but the african-american, Latino, and Asia clubs were not even questioned.

I don’t know enough about this incident to comment, but I’d love to know both the motive behind starting a white pride student club as well as the results of the court hearing. Minorities start clubs because as single individuals who look and act different than the majority are easily preyed upon by others. As a group they have strength and safety. The white kids have safety in numbers by default.

-You are proud to be black, brown, yellow and orange, and you’re not afraid to announce it. But when we announce our white pride, you call us racists.

They’re proud to be African American or Brazilian, Latin American, Chinese, Korean, Japanese, or whatever their nationality happens to be. Categorizing people by the color of their skin is ignorant because, among other reasons, no single color belongs to a single nationality.

I am white.
I am proud.
But, you call me a racist.
Why is it that only whites can be racists?
Now watch, I’ll be a racist for posting this
So what? no one will re post this for fear of being called racist
if you think its true re-post it saying ” I’m not racist but its true

It’s not true that only whites can be racist; whites just happen to take me most heat for it, probably because we’re unfortunate enough to have an overabundance of people who think this way and are foolish enough to open their mouths.

The point is this. If you’re racist, stop hiding behind white pride. There’s no such thing.

Today I had a peculiar experience. I was discussing religion with a coworker and, for the first time in recorded history, he backed down from an argument. This gentlemen, in addition to being my coworker, is also quite a bit smarter than I. Why would a man who could ordinarily debate circles around me yield to my arguments?

Because, he stated, the ideas I expressed were dangerous.

The opinions being vocalized were harmless from my perspective; that is, from the perspective of someone who has no fear of posthumous retribution. What I said was not new (that God murdered more people in the Bible than Satan) and it wasn’t nearly as important to me as his reaction.

He clammed up. He didn’t want to continue because he felt fear and he told me so. Not for himself but for my soul because, according to the Bible, his God has a special corner of Hell reserved for blasphemers like me (Matthew 12:32, Mark 3:29, Luke 12:10). Whether or not my words at that particular moment were blasphemous may depend on your definition of the word. If you consider questioning an obvious and important paradox in the Bible blasphemous, then consider me guilty as charged.

Call me crazy but I’d like to know the nature of God before I use him to calibrate my moral compass. This is typically Christian: deeming certain lines of questioning as blasphemous, unforgivable sins because one’s own beliefs won’t stand up to their scrutiny. If God exists, then he gave you a mind with which to think. Start using it.

Here’s a hypothetical situation I’d like you to consider.  You’ve got this friend who is, for lack of a better word, a career scumbag.  You knew this when you befriended him many years ago, but when you were both kids getting into fights, being loud and offensive in public, and generally pissing off anyone and everyone who crossed your path were your favorite pass times.  You were mostly compatible as friends back then but find yourself running on the strength of reminiscence and loyalty alone today.

You thought his stories of promiscuity, cheating, and heartbreak were funny and exciting. Secretly you were a little jealous. The more you listened to his stories and marveled wide-eyed at his conquests, the more you validated his cycle of sweet deception, sexual attainment, and brutal rejection of the opposite sex. He can go from 80’s mix-tape to telling the town about the stench of her privates in sixty seconds.

As a man you find his ability to perjure his way into a girl’s panties almost godlike. As a compassionate human being your association with him makes you feel embarrassed, and a little slimy.

When out on the town your friend makes it his personal goal to bad-mouth, mock, or offend everyone in the room. In the early days of the media’s “Operation Shock and Awe” on our generation’s minds, his brand of humor was edgy and pushed your comfort boundaries with him as well as the people he verbally ravaged;  but in the imposing shadow of South Park’s 11th season, the Don Imus situation, and a media that has turned offensiveness into a profitable commodity, your friend’s brand of humor is getting tired. When you acknowledge it at all it’s not with a dropped jaw and a look of shock, but with  rolled eyes, a shrug, and a yawn.

His biting words and venomous tongue have made him more enemies than friends through the course of your friendship, and more and more you find yourself forced to choose between him and the rest of the world.  Your sense of loyalty tells you to stick by his side while every molecule of decency, compassion, and common sense which comprises your mind and soul is telling you that your misplaced loyalty will have you follow him straight to a lonely Hell. It also tells you that he would not do the same for you.

The question I pose is as follows.  Would you stick by this individual, pretending that somehow you can affect him and reverse his malignancy? Or do you accept that some people grow apart; that your friendship had a good run, but the time has come to cash out?  Someone help me out.  This situation tears me apart, and I can’t afford a shrink.