journal.wiredreflexes.com

Okay, this pisses me off; Elle has been so kind as to direct my attention towards a band called The Tea Party and I’m really enjoying their stuff. Here’s the deal though, they’re about as unreliable as, for instance, Radiohead in the sense that their songs don’t always appeal to me. For instance, Juno Reactor always follows through and appeals to my tastes, but sadly The Tea Party doesn’t.

*sigh*

Damn me and my pickiness. Oh well, rant over.

I noticed that my journal were becoming a bit of an angst and anger fest, so I just wanted to share a little story with you that makes me laugh each time I think back to it.

It’s saturday night, south London [Clapham High Street, to be exact], in a nightclub called the Inferno, a shite 70’s revival club. We were one of the first people in the club as it was still rather early, and we managed to get a booth at the side of the dance area.

These booths were a nice setup. Semi-circular, with high, padded-leather backrests that went up to the ceiling. It had those buttons on them making the padding all bumpy, it was nice and comfy. There was a round table in the middle which had a loose table-top. We had all agreed not to lean on the table’s edge so that the table wouldn’t shift or fall over.

One of the girls that was going with us was Esther, a girlfriend/roommate of Moulsari. She’s a 2 feet high, Korean girl that could hardly do anything wrong in my eyes since was just the prettiest thing. She arrived a little later, and I had [out of boredom] ordered some cocktails and shots at the cocktail bar.

The cocktail bartender was a guy called David that was very happy to see me since I didn’t order one drink but ordered them fuckloads at a time, also I paid with creditcard. This was my initial order;

3 Harvey Wallbangers
4 Long Island Iced Teas
7 Brain Haemorrhages [shots]

This totalled 50 pounds or so, and the guy sent me off hoping I’d come back for more. When Esther had arrived I asked her if she’d want a drink. She told me that she was very asian about her alcohol consumption [i.e. she doesn’t handle her alcohol well *wink*at*Wai*] and I shrugged and put a Long Island Iced Tea in front of her. She didn’t seem to mind and drank it.

When she stood up to walk over to the bathroom, she put her hands on the table and literally launched a Wallbanger, 2 LIITs and 3 or 4 Haemorrhages across the table and into the padded leather backrest behind her. Surprisingly, she was spotless.

A goddess.

After spending a splendid, though slightly hectic weekend in London, I come home to find a bunch of people at the airport waiting for a bus to bring them to the long-term parking area. As soon as the bus shows up people start flocking towards the doors, all wanting to be the first to get in so they wouldn’t miss out on the money they were giving away for free inside.

Having spent many time during my college years in public transport, constantly being assaulted by the pushy, rude and mostly pathetic behavior of my country-men to start piling onto eachother when trying to get in or out of trains, busses, trams or some such. They act like they are somehow missing out on something.

Example; When a train comes into the station, there are most likely going to be people that will want to come out. What youdon’t do, is surround the exists and start ramming yourself into the train regardless if there are people trying to get out or not. What you do do, is what I always did…stand back…watch the idiots flap about…and go in when everyone’s gone. I could always find a seat. I am always left wondering what it is that they think they will miss out on.

Anyway, coming back from a country where people know how to make a queue and don’t mind waiting for three seconds, I was shocked. As I get into the bus, which is a normal bus where they have removed some of the seats to create room for luggage, I find a bunch of people standing in the spot where the luggage should be stored. Most of them didn’t want to sit down because the drive would only be three or four minutes.

I politely asked for them to make room, and explained the function of that gap in between the seats. Some of them moved and I could put Samantha’s fucking large suitcase down. As I was trying to make my way to the back to find a seat, I saw a guy standing in front of my holding on to a [really] large bag containing, according to him, kites. Next to him there was a man blocking the way. I kindly asked if I could pass and he turns around and says the follwing;

“Why?”
“Well, because I’d like to sit down.” I replied.
“It’s only a two minute drive, you know?” he said with an arrogant look on his face, like I’m the asshole.

How fucking rude is that? For one, why the hell should I provide him with a reason? And second, why doesn’t he just move aside in light of my answer? I can’t believe this country and the rude behavior I stumble across every now and again. It makes me want to scream.

For the so manieth time this month I am contemplating a change of scenery. I hear Australia has some nice weather this time of year.

“Am I a racist?” That’s what I asked myself yesterday evening. It was one of those late-night contemplations that never seem to amount to anything, so I decided to save this introspection to the drive to work the next morning. So today, I stepped in my car and drove to work contemplating if I am or am not a racist.

I guess in essence, everyone is a racist, but that has to do with some very primal instincts that humanity is slowly trying to shed. People have an inherent fear for that which they don’t understand. Things that look different must also think differently and are therefor, by definition, something to fear, or be distrustful of.

But in modern day’s society people are slowly getting over those fears as we slowly integrate to form what I like to call a “grey mass.” However, according to Eva, studies have shown that people will tend to sit next to someone of their own skin colour in the subway, rather than not. I asked myself that exact same question; do I often find myself next to my own kin, rather than others on the subway. And I could really find a pattern – not that means anything, my memory is totally shit – and I would like to believe that I am not that shallow.

I needed a better definition of racism, and this is the first thing I came up with; making judgement based on appearance.

Now this isn’t really fair since I am a terribly judgemental person and I make judgements based on appearance all the time, and not just racial appearance. I needed a more precise definition of racism, the following definition is what I came up with next; racism is making judgements based on race.

Okay, now we’re getting somewhere. However, making judgements based on someones racial heritage doesn’t constitute as racism, however. At least, it doesn’t to me. It just makes you prejudice since you have set pre-conceptions of a person based on his race. Pre-conceptions are relatively harmless unless turned into something that will influence your actions. So as soon as your pre-conceptions based on race leads to a change in behavior does your prejudice turn into racism.

But that would mean that there is no difference in positive or negative racism. Well, personally I don’t think there is, stricly speaking. Racism just has some really negative connotations to it, and rightly so since there are a lot more identifiable instances of racism that carry that negativity with them. Keyword; “identifiable.”

Merriam – Webster’s says; “a belief that race is the primary determinant of human traits and capacities and that racial differences produce an inherent superiority of a particular race.”

Conclusion; I still have no clue if I’m a racist. And I still don’t have a clue what racism is. I’ll just use the following definition; “Racism bad, m’kay?”