WISDOM OF THE
SAGES
EPISODE ONE –
WINTER 2016
Hello People of the World;
Well, here we are at the end of the first month of
2016. You know what? Nothing has really changed despite all our proclamations
that things will change once the calendar flipped. Then, there are those fakey
people, who try to act all better than people with calendars, who state that
the REAL turn of the year is the Winter Solstice, or some nonsense like that.
But if that were true you would see people making great change at that time.
But they don’t.
The sad matter of fact is that time has no end. It
will go on long after we have passed on. The fact is we only break it into
“things” for easier consumption. We have to accept the fact that we have
agreed, rather arbitrarily, that the altered Gregorian calendar works for most
people. Stamping your feet like you are the truest form of humanity that thinks
“outside the box” means fuck-all in the end. Seriously.
On that note, let’s get this month’s edition
started, shall we:
1
:[ I keep
thinking about the choices that have led to me where I am. Whenever I sit in a
coffee shop or am walking in the streets or are riding public transportation
into the city, I always have my thinking steered towards my life’s choices
whenever I notice something out of the ordinary, or notice something that I
have become accustomed to seeing, hearing, smelling, and I have to think, “what
were all of the choices that brought me here to this spot right now that I have
come to see-hear-smell this?”
I was born and raised on the Wind River Indian
Reservation in west central Wyoming and it is as rural a place as you can get.
There are housing projects spread out across the 1.4 million acre reservation
and yet, we tend to think that we are, somehow, the same as African-Americans
living in the projects of the big cities. It is weird. But I grew up poor. But
we did not know we were poor because we had parents that did everything to make
sure we had enough.
Now, many of my life’s choices were not mine to
make. Firstly, being born Northern Arapaho. Both my parents just happened to be
Northern Arapaho, so, there was no great accomplishment there, no matter what
all of the Facebook posts tell you. I also did not choose the situation I was
born into – poor, on an Indian reservation. I never chose that, so being
Northern Arapaho from the Wind River Reservation is not something to have pride
about. It just is. I am who I am.
But when I am sitting anywhere where I have some
quiet time to reflect, it always pops up in my head “how did I get here, right
now?” What were the choices in my life that lead me down this path to get me
sitting here in a coffee shop surrounded by strangers, or on a train heading
downtown surrounded by strangers, or on a Metra train heading to the south side
surrounded by strangers, or simply walking down a street that I have never
walked on before, all surrounded by the strangers that make up the population
of the city I now call home?
I chose to leave the reservation, a choice I will
never regret. My reservation does not make me Arapaho. I chose to live in
Chicago, to attend film school, I chose the jobs I took and the trips I went on,
and chose all the experiences I have had. What a varied set of serendipitous
selections led me to see and experience all sort so of crazy, ugly, cool, and
plain boring stuff.
Seeing the Chicago Skyline rising through the
windshield when I first got here.
Smoking tobacco pipes with Joey and Tao on the roof
of Joey’s apartment building.
Having Baby Char falling asleep in my arms.
Being annoyed at stupid people in the moment.
Watching butterflies attack the large brush in our
backyard at Morse.
Smoking cigars with my brothers one Christmas
night.
Seeing the conditions of a south side classroom.
Remembering all of the things that have led me to
my beliefs and non-beliefs.
Seeing a student’s face light up when they get how
the program works and they edit a piece of footage or put a filter an image.
Seeing the homeless all the time on the els just
trying to stay warm for a few hours.
Eating a chocolate chunk cookie.
Walking on the frozen lake on the Michigan side.
Going through the long tunnel driving to one of the
Carolinas one summer.
Partially seeing a shooting in the street below
from the el tracks.
All the CPS students I have met.
Sam and Char “killing” me as we played swords in
the backyard on Howard.
The game we made up on the wide playground slide at
Emily Oaks where we try to save one another from sliding down, Char shouting “I
WON’T LET MY FRIENDS DIE!” as her tiny hands pulled Sam and I back up to
safety.
Watching the orange sodium haze that obscures the
night sky here.
Seeing just how wide and deep the stars go looking
at the Wyoming sky on my visits home.
Watching my niece and nephews grow up, in increments.
The coworkers I have known.
Holding Sammie’s hand when she was little.
The constant sounds of police, fire, and ambulance
sirens.
Every job I had where I felt so damn useless at
some point.
All the phone calls I made at a telemarketer for
Lyric Opera.
Remembering that all the women I have pursued
rejected me soundly.
Seeing and hearing someone freak the fuck out on
the bus or train, constantly!
Seeing random stranger just help one another out.
Long hours of reading the TV Guide into a phone.
The wonder of the buildings of the city.
The friends I made and some that I lost, one way or
another.
Bonnie staring up at me because I am tall.
Trudging through the deep snows in the street,
feeling like a kid again.
Being in awe of Char.
Getting married and then divorce. You saw that
coming?
There is more, there is so much more. So much that
in the quiet times, in a coffee shop, or on the bus or train, I find myself
thinking about all the choices, big and small, that have brought me to right
now, sitting here, writing all of this out, trying to explain to you, dear
reader….
2
:[ The
Right Kind of Monster: Banning Books Edition! Yay!
We begin this piece with a large digression to set
context: Many years ago, I listened to TJ Kirk’s video about the Penn State coach
Jerry Sandusky, who was convicted of raping young boys and how every one was
reacting to that – they wished HIS rape. I was struck at the societal double
standard of being, as TJ aptly put it, “the right kind of monster.” The monster
who believes because they are on the side of right, justice, of society’s
principles, then they should be allowed to get away with the very things we
throw the wrong kind of monsters in jail for, so our own calls for bloody
retribution and want for killing go excused.
In 2012, Jerry Sandusky was convicted of 45 counts
of child molestation in connection to the charity organization he ran. Once
this happened, Penn State officials and coaches were left go and the NCAA let
go a barrage of penalties that have since been retracted, because: football.
Once Sandusky was convicted and the scandal came to light, the media lit up
with threats against his person, with most wishing Sandusky’s own rape at the
hands of prisoners. Suddenly, rape was a good thing? Others often teased the
highly racist and stereotypical misnomer of what happens to molesters in prison
at the hands of murderers and other prisoners. What people failed to realize
was that the law enforcement and legal systems had worked: he was caught, faced
trial, was convicted with the evidence, and placed in prison away from society,
never to be returned.
Yet, in all of our “godly” sainthood as the “created
man”, we want some form of painful, cruel punishments, completely at odds with
our Constitutional, CONSTITUTAIONAL, CONSTITUTIONAL!
guarantee of no “cruel or unusual punishments”. Yet, it amazes me how much we
are willing to ignore our Constitution, a document many consider sacred and
“divinely-inspired” when it comes to how fucked up or revenge fantasies really
are, that we choose to ignore it when something like this happens. What ever
happens to Sandusky will never un-molest those children, and how dare we, how
fucking DARE WE to suggest that the killers and murderers in prison are now the
GOOD GUYS if they only quench our thirst for revenge by RAPING HIM, which can
rightly be seen as a massive, society-wide COVER UP FOR DOING NOTHING TO
PREVENT THE CRIME TO BEGIN WITH. We all looked the other way, because:
football.
And we will continue to look the other way because
we do not want to admit that we are so much like these monsters: we want blood,
we want our religion to rule, we want to sexualize children (or Infantilize our
sex idols), we want to do the worst to one another for money, we will bend and
break our sacred rules so long as we look good and feel better for failing our
societal obligations to be humane to one another. We want to fight and punch
and hurt one another. I mean, look at the death penalty, how is this not
Socially Accepted Premeditated Murder?
How is legally plotting and executing the death of
another human being in repayment for the life of a murdered soul supposed to be
a good thing? It never brings the dead to life again. It is just to slake our
own bloodlust and our failure for preventing such atrocities. Why is it that we
think doing the absolutely wrong thing, the thing antithetical to our morals
and ideals, under color of “justice” some how makes those wrong actions right?
All of which, finally brings me to the delicate
manner of book banning: We banned a book because it depicted happy slaves.
Which is not at all historically accurate, yet, pressure from groups and
parents forced the cancellation of the book. Now, this is censorship since the
book is already published, it is then up to the public in general to make up
their minds for them selves if the book is bad or wrong or not. Yet, we think,
that making that decision for them in this case, constitutes “justice”.
Clearly, we do not really understand what censorship is.
I mean it is just not only about African American
history, which should be taught correctly in our schools to begin with. It is
about changing the status quo, the system of education that lets these wrong
ideas be proliferated. But rather than try work for that change, we make up for
our failures to do so by banning books. Look at Native Art. We Natives clearly
do not know what “Censorship” means. Recently, someone posted about another
artist’s work not getting shown at a gallery because it depicted nude bodies of
women. The cry was then “Censorship!” But, what it was really, was simple selective
exhibition. The gallery has a right on what to show and not show. The gallery
decided they did not want to show women’s naked bodies for whatever reason.
They knew that the artist could still have their work seen elsewhere.
What they did not do was pass laws to get the artists
arrested, jailed, or his hands cut off, so he can never do nude pictures again.
THAT would be censorship. The artist can still do his art. People can still buy
it and see it. But we cried that it was censorship and many cried that we had
to “change the system” of art galleries. Yet, no one thinks beyond his or her glorious
revolutions. Why cry about changing the system, but then do nothing to change
it, and yet, still reap the benefits of the broken system you want changed?
How is a banning a book ever the answer? How is
plugging in more writers of color into a broken, “racist system” going to help?
I mean some writers of color still benefit from this same system. Yes, I get
it, there is a selective censorship happening to begin with: to show happy
slaves in a children’s book, because it overlooks the real horrors of slavery.
But banning it only gives rise to its defenders and the real discussion about
our history of slavery is usurped by shouts of Constitutionality and Free Press
and Free Expression. When we could easily use the publishing of this book as a
forum for changing both the system of historical and children’s publishing, and
the education system that uses such books to teach.
But because they censored the horrors of slavery in
the book, it makes our censorship of banning it a good thing! And we can feel
that we have done the right thing in the name of “justice”. See, we are the
Right Kind of Monster.
In my silly opinion, Censorship is making it
illegal to express a thought or opinion, to say stupid things, or to prevent
progressive ideals to be espoused openly, by openly preventing all means for
such ideas to be expressed; bans on writing, speech, art, printing, internet, protests,
imprisonment of idealists, death of idealists. When you ban this book, you are
also lending credence to the idea that “Smiling Slaves” is an idea that is
dangerous to society and that, that idea should be defended and championed.
Instead of being stupidly wrong, we empower its contents through its banning.
Everyone has the Constitutional right to their
ideas, to expressing them, to publishing them.
But, do you know what the funny thing is about
these rights? It is the fact that they do not operate in ONE WAY: Your way! No.
They operate in both directions. You see? Everyone has the right to publish his
or her stupid shit. Just as we have the right to tell them, “I acknowledge your
right to do that but I have the right to tell you and everyone else that your
idea is FUCKING STUPID and no one should buy your book or give it further
credence! Because SLAVERY IS BAD in all its forms! No amount of smiling cartoon
slaves will change that.”
This is not about banning Political Correctness. I
am actually for it. I question why people are so against it. Doesn’t it just
mean the younger generation is smarter and giving consideration to such things?
No one is oppressing anyone else when asking for Political Correctness. They
are simply asking for consideration of our thoughts and memes, to think before
acting or speaking.
It all begins with thinking we are on the side of
right, justice, of society’s principles, then, we should be allowed to get away
with the very things we throw the wrong kind of monsters in jail for, so our
own calls for bloody retribution and want for killing go excused, or when we
call for the heads of those who ban Sherman Alexie books, because we are the
right monsters. We never simply take a moment to stand back and audit our
thoughts and beliefs.
If we did that, we see that book banning, in any
form is wrong. The book already exists and it should be up to us to show and
discuss how wrong it was. To generate a mass movement to NOT BUY THE BOOK and
let it fail, rather than tossing it in the bonfire of society’s need for
egotistical triumph. No this is NOT about the “Teaching Moment”, which is
stupid, hypocritical and egotistical in that it assumes you are the smartest
person that has to educate the world. It is about the simple concept that banning
books is wrong, in all its forms. That, that concept is one of those highly
sacred ideas that we should never contradict.
Every evil movement in history thinks they are
right, no matter how much society knows it is wrong. The KKK still thinks they
are right for their racism just as the Nazis thought they were right to ban
books that offended them. The author and publishers are the wrong kind of
monster for putting this out to begin with. They should be met with the
consequences of poor sales and a massive drive to change our educational
system. But, I guess, because we succeeded in banning this book because we have
become the right kind of Nazi.
Oops, I mean, Monster…
3
:[ I think
this whole Walk Out Boycott of the Oscars is stupid. Aren’t you getting rid of
their problem for them? Not being there makes you easier to ignore. I have
witnessed about seven walkout protests/boycotts in my life, even took part in
one, and the result is the same: nothing changed. If fact, it made it easier to
ignore the problem when you are not around. Get with it people….
4
:[ Pet
Peeves: People grabbing tables before they order. Also, idiot baristas still
using the word “Chill-axing” as a retro-cool word….
That will do it for this month.
Those in favor of banning a book, or who want to
give me a lesson in racial politics, or who want to ignite the good old
“Oppression Olympics” once again will probably school me on that situation.
That’s fine, as long as you are able to make a good argument that is rational
and sane. I am always open to change my view on things. I am not so egotistical
to think my opinion is the way the world should see things. I will not censor
your comment just because I think they are wrong.
I don’t know, maybe I am wrong about all of it. So,
let me know what you think and as always, feel free to comment, correct, or
contradict anything you read here. My ego is such that I think I can take it. I
dare you. “Think you can take me? Well go ahead on. It’s your move.”
Until next month, remember “I try to show the
schemers how pathetic their attempts to control everything really are.”
2016 Ernest M Whiteman III
