Two Minutes Hate

Our society officially shuns hate. We react to “hate” crimes with public vigor. Our pop culture leaders enjoin us “don’t hate!” and ask us not to be “haters”. Even people whom we are trying to incinerate and pulverize are told that we don’t despise them, and that we’re sorry their leaders put them in the way of our armies.

But you’ve got to have someone to hate! Official culture is no longer allowed to hate the old standard minority groups, so despising black people or Mexican people or even the Irish or the Italians is right out. So, for those of you confused about what to do with all your blind rage, I present:

Acceptable Hate, a Guide

what do you do with a drunken sailor

we don’t want to fight
but by jingo if we do..

A set of observations slightly colored by a couple of glasses of good single malt and a long week.

  1. I’m an ape, and an angry ape at that. And so are you!
  2. Hand lotion smells awful
  3. Most of the problems we face day to day in my immediate circle are diseases of wealth
  4. I’m a terrible fake.
  5. It’s only by carefully avoiding the full reality of my existence that I avoid a total mental breakdown.
  6. I am a very fortunate person
  7. This list is self-indulgent and not interesting

Hi, I’m Troy McClure

Diane Sawyer, ace ABC reporter, is in Istanbul to cover the big story about Turkey approving the use of U.S. troops from their country. I found this out because I took my mom to the doctor this morning and had Good Morning America or something inflicted on me.

The morning show dealt with this by showing a perfunctory 30 second news story about Iraq, Turkey, and the Kurds and then going into a lengthy travelogue style feature about glorious Istanbul, the fancy palaces of its storied past, clips from a James Bond movie (!?), and finally an interview with a restaurateur and chef about gastronomic art in Istanbul and the delicious local specialties combined with Continental flair.

I can just see the planning meeting for this show in my head. “Sam, Diane’s in Istanbul and we want to use this on the morning show.” “Ok, Jim.” “Thing is, Sam, this stuff is heavy, we got Kurds, we got chemical warfare, we got all kinds of blood and guts shit. This is the morning show. We need sparkle.” “I’ll get a chef, do some wacky stuff with traditional dishes, some luxury porn, show the chandeliers.”

Bonus points for a whole sheep’s head dish where our ace reporter keeps being squicked by the eyeballs. Plenty of burned heads with detached eyeballs coming up, Diane. Just you wait.

No, wouldn’t have had a very good time in Stalingrad.

Today meta_kate and I went to a gun show. Kate is about to enter law school and is particularly interested in criminal justice, and had never been to one of these, so I chaperoned her.

It was fairly tame, compared to what these events were ten years ago. California has very restrictive laws, so most of the weapons that are big and scary enough to be humorous were not available for purchase, although the .50 caliber gigantic $7,000 sniper rifles were a real hoot. Not too much over-the-top nuttiness either, although one lady who was selling all kinds of first aid gear for back country camping had little “funny” info cards on all the equipment, mostly misspelled and stuck in the 1980s. A russian army issue tourniquet or something had a picture of Gorbachev on it with some joke worthy of Yakoff Smirnoff, etc.

There was too much Nazi memorabilia for sale. Not just vintage pistols and daggers and medals, but training booklets and other propaganda, uniform apparel, and suspiciously new-looking swastika flags. Kinda creepy.

I dropped the Kate off back at Diedrichs to get her car and go home, and then continued on to our local health food store to get some baking supplies. That’s where I had my real shock of the day. Coming out happily with my flour, honey, flaxseed meal in arms I saw a couple of very normal-looking fiftysomething guys getting on their motorcycles. They didn’t notice me at all, being involved in an intense discussion of some kind, and that’s good because I stared at one guy for a full minute.

He was wearing a longsleeved jersey for Final Solution Custom Motorcycles that had the SS double lightning bolt and death’s head insignia as its logo. I could not believe my eyes. I put my stuff in my car and walked back over to confirm this, unbelieving. Then I left.

Bonus points: He and his pal both had canadian (ontario) plates on their bikes, and a woman with them was taking touristy pictures.

Your racist friend

So, there’s this woman who is sort of on the periphery of my scene; she’s married to a friend of a friend, basically. I see her a couple times a month. She is well-educated and a good storyteller, and at first I thought she was kind of fun, although she’s a terrible egotist. If she’s not the center of a conversation she drifts away, and she likes to drown people out. Not fatal flaws though.

The other day I was in a conversation with her and others, and the topic turned to the Korean crisis. I mentioned that I felt very bad for the North Korean people because of the starvation in their country and the government they’ve got: totalitarian and insane is a rotten mix. But particularly the starvation: the numbers aren’t hard, but it seems that hundreds of thousands if not millions of people are at risk of death at any time.

She responded in a very dismissive way that they deserved their fate. “Any people who can’t overthrow their government under those conditions deserve their fate” was her line. She repeated this twice, a bit more loudly each time.

I was shocked. I asked her if she really had though this through. Let’s say five hundred thousand people die of starvation. Did anyone really deserve that fate? How easy is it to rebel in a totalitarian state? Had she been there?

She responded again, in a very dogmatic way, that peoples who cannot overthrow a bad government are responsible and deserving of whatever troubles they get, up to and including death. I said that was beyond my ethical reach; I couldn’t ever say that any huge group of people like that deserved collective punishment by a painful death. I was really upset by this time.

Her reply was “Well, I’m a historian. History tells us that people choose their government and their fate.” Literally with a dismissive wave, as if historians were anointed by God to dispense moral judgment on populations. I said “Well, I’m an educated person too, and I’ve read lots of books, but I have ethical limits.”

Two weeks later I’m still angry about this. Really angry. I saw her tonight and she was going on and on about how Europeans are irrelevant or something else equally offensive and inane.

I wanted to say to her, and maybe I’ll have the cojones to say it next time: “Hey you know what? You’re rich, privileged, arrogant, and morally vacant. History tells us that you’re the last decayed remnant of a dying empire and that your high-handed racist hand-waving at the miseries of millions will be an example of evil to the schoolchildren of tomorrow. Enjoy the legacy, you stuck-up little bitch.”

Bonus points: she’s a high school teacher.

From Oakley’s web site

They make really good sunglasses, but come on, guys:

The world’s first optical frame to incorporate ultra-lightweight magnesium metal within a ceramic mantle. Liquefied at 1100°F, the performance alloy is injected into precision engineered molds within a timeframe of less than 30 milliseconds. Sealing the metal in a protective ceramic mantle requires a turbine that rotates at 60,000 rpm in order to disperse ceramic polymer nanoparticles. For a secure and comfortable fit, the new frame will include spring-hinge mechanisms, as well as Unobtainium® nosebombs and earsocks. Flex couplers are incorporated at strategic points in the frame geometry, tuning flexibility while retaining structural integrity. The end result is a metal frame that meets the durability requirements of sports professionals while offering all-day comfort by minimizing weight.

For all that I expect a BMW engine in my $150 sunglasses.