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Tag Archives: Dreams

Dreaming Away the Nightmare of Right Wing Double-Speak

21 Tuesday Jan 2014

Posted by danielwalldammit in Politics, Write Drunk, Edit Stoned

≈ 15 Comments

Tags

civil Rights, Double-Speak, Dreams, Irony, Martin Luther King, Recursion, Rhetoric, Right Wing, Sarah Palin

sarahpalin_aI have a dream!

…that one day, folks will stop playing the race card …card.

…that one day, accusations of racism will be judged on the merits of the actual claims and not simply taken up as plot points in a well-known narrative.

…that one day some folks really will stop crying racism whenever convenient. …and that other folks will stop dismissing cries of racism whenever convenient.

I have a dream that professional bigots will no longer find an audience ready to believe that ‘racism’ needs a prefix and ‘reverse’ really needs a place to hang out.

In this dream no prominent figure would be so foolish as to suggest that the best way to end racism would be for people to stop complaining of racism when it happens. Should such a figure step forward, she would be banished to the Hell of many guffaws, which is admittedly happening, now but in this dream she does it without the golden parachute for a job well abandoned and a history of throwing her own allies under the bus.

In this dream my hero Sally the Smart Swan shows up and puts putrid pundits in their place, saying; “knock it off you damned head; stop talking!” She waves her wand and war ceases to be about peace, taking from people no longer counts as providing them jobs, and kindness no longer leaves a bruise. (Some folks still fuck for virginity, that was always a good idea.) Then a pack of wild jackalope buy the world a coke and sing in perfect harmony. …everyone except me, I’m off-key of course, and my pants are down.

I did mention this was a dream.

In any event, I have a dream that one day recursion will not simply mean a political u-turn back to old Jim and his Crows. Or that people who send us on such a trip will not loudly proclaim their commitment to values they clearly don’t hold.

I have a dream that concerns about opportunistic anti-racism will not serve the goals of opportunistic anti-anti-racism. It’s a funky dream to be sure, and somewhere in this dream the Great Double Negative will descend from the sky and pronounce its wisdom to all! “Yea verily!” it will say (because the Great Double Negative talks like that). “Tis true, a not well knotted becomes a do, and a tangled web it weaves for me and you!” And the crowd will cock their heads slightly and look confused (because no-one talks like that anymore, if anyone ever did), and they will shout up at the Great Double Negative; “Get to the point you damned personification!” The the Great Double Negative will say; “If you consistently oppose anti-racism, there is a point when we might be justified in suggesting you are yourself a racist!” And “Oh” said the crown, surprised thatactually made sense, and “no” said the echo-chamber hoping they could bend a yea into a nay and no-one would notice.

I have a dream that anti-war speeches will not be out of place at the funeral of a peace activist.

BedWRvJCUAAq7UMI have a dream that people who say liberals are communists are fascists, and the Holocaust starts with compassion will be recognized for their comedic genius, because no-one would be so foolish as to take that as serious political commentary.

I have a dream that people who attack others will not play the victim when they draw return fire, and that those seeking to defend such people will read their words before telling the rest of us all about it.

I have a dream in which helping people is not confused with enslaving them, in which those defending privilege do not call others ‘elitist’ in a folksy voice, in which poverty is not blamed on efforts to end it, and in which greed is not celebrated as the source of all that is good and gooey.

I have a dream in which not being racist does NOT mean you wait for others to use racial epithets first, and in which the word ‘satire’ does not absolve one of all guilt.

I have a dream in which professional bigots will not count as ‘conservatives’, ‘patriots’, “Christians”, or even ‘entertainers’. I have a dream in which such people are dismissed for the living caricatures that they are.

I have a dream in which those actively working to stop African-Americans from voting, lower wages, and take away all forms of public support do not assume the voice of civil rights leaders and lecture others on dreams they clearly do not themselves share.

This is not a dream without enemies; it’s a dream in which those enemies do not include quite so many clowns. In fact it’s a dream full of tougher questions and better arguments, but it’s a dream in which the other side doesn’t stand every important value on its head and their professed politics comes a lot closer to an honest engagement with the rest of us. But that’s all just a dream of course. In the real world, all of this continues as before, and amazingly with straight-faces all around.

And lotsa people have their pants on the floor.

***

Sarah Palin appears here (I’m sorry) by way of The Hollywood Reporter. The American Headache Institute comes to us courtesy of HKS, who assures me that this is where Sarah can be found. I think she might be the director.

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Today’s Pointless Yarn: A Rude Awakening and an Odd Dream

10 Friday May 2013

Posted by danielwalldammit in Childhood

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

1970s, Apple Valley, California, Childhood, Concussions, Dreams, Head Injuries, Skateboarding, Victorville

alphbet

Looks different but the drainage is still there

I remember waking eager in anticipation one night. I think I was about twelve  at the time, and we were living in Southern California. A friend had invited me to go skateboarding at a local drainage ditch just out behind the Alpha Beta (about half way between Apple Valley and Victorville). This was a perfect half pipe, and a nice down-hill at that. My friend was a far better skater, and so this was also a chance to pick up a trick or two, and enjoy a day on my board. Plus, it was a rare sociable moment in the life of a young hermit. I was really looking forward to this day. The only problem was it was night-time.

This confused me.

I was pretty sure I had had a full night of sleep, and this didn’t seem like the darkness just before morning. It really seemed like the darkness just before you go to sleep and stay that way for the night. Luckily my Mom entered the room shortly after I sat up and asked me how I felt. I was eager to go skateboarding, but a little confused about the time.

…and about the dream I had, the one where I had already gotten up and gone skateboarding. Then my friends kept pestering me to call home, and I didn’t know why, but in this dream they seemed to think I should get ahold of my parents for some reason.

People talk a lot about making your dreams come true. I don’t think this is what they typically mean by it. At any rate, I got a cool new phrase out of the whole experience, “post cerebral concussion syndrome.”

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A Touch of Tension makes the Dream Grow Odder

23 Thursday Aug 2012

Posted by danielwalldammit in Write Drunk, Edit Stoned

≈ 17 Comments

Tags

Dreams, Ethnicity, Humor, Parking Meters, Race, WTF?

I don’t remember the joke, but it triggered the effect again. My black friend wasn’t black anymore; he was a machine and his face changed into a sort of digital display inside of which numbers and digits buzzed and whirred far too fast to read. I could tell he wasn’t pleased.

“Do you see me laughing?”

The face of my other black friend appeared above  me. (Apparently I had precisely two of them in this story.) He seemed to be leaning over the wall I was sitting against, and he was smiling. The smile seemed to suggest that we were still friends, but that he too wasn’t pleased with my last comment.

I gave a weak smile, ‘no.’

“Maybe that’s because it wasn’t funny.”

“I know,” I stammered and cringed;  “I don’t mean to be a jack-ass; it’s just that I can say that sort of thing with my indigenous friends and they laugh about it.”

“Well, we don’t think it’s funny.”

I told him I understood. I said I was sorry and that I will try to be more sensitive about things in the future.

The face above me looked across the street at our companion; “Have you explained that to him?”

“No, he turns into a magic parking meter whenever I attempt ethnic humor. I’ll apologize and discuss it with him when he changes back in a minute or two.”

“That sounds like a plan.”

***

Okay, those are pretty much the final moments of my dream this morning.

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