Furr

Speaking of wolves, here’s the song I was thinking of, which, thanks to you, I know the name of.

This is the thing I wish I’d written about “Avatar.”

These are movies about white guilt. Our main white characters realize that they are complicit in a system which is destroying aliens, AKA people of color – their cultures, their habitats, and their populations. The whites realize this when they begin to assimilate into the “alien” cultures and see things from a new perspective. To purge their overwhelming sense of guilt, they switch sides, become “race traitors,” and fight against their old comrades. But then they go beyond assimilation and become leaders of the people they once oppressed. This is the essence of the white guilt fantasy, laid bare. It’s not just a wish to be absolved of the crimes whites have committed against people of color; it’s not just a wish to join the side of moral justice in battle. It’s a wish to lead people of color from the inside rather than from the (oppressive, white) outside.

Think of it this way. Avatar is a fantasy about ceasing to be white, giving up the old human meatsack to join the blue people, but never losing white privilege.

That’s pretty astute, I think.

One Second at a Time

It’s really going to take some superhuman feat of skill and fortitude that I’m not sure I have to get through this week in one piece. So, we are making a round-trip to North Carolina on Wednesday and Thursday because

a.) my brother’s not answering his phone when my dad calls, so they can’t discuss how fucking stupid this is. Not that they would discuss it, but the possibility for discussion isn’t there.

b.) in spite of my family’s desire that I be the fucking bitch whose approval they crave, but who they also resent, I’m not calling my brother to tell him how stupid this is. I can’t decide if this seems equally as passive as other members of my family, but for my own sanity, I cannot take up being the boss of these people (or trying. Like I said, the dynamic is to push you into it and then tear you down for doing it.). I told my dad I think it’s stupid, and he took that into consideration and decided to go anyway.

c.) My mom is done with how my brother talks to his son. At least for now. So she would rather go get him and know he’s not going to be emotionally abused for a whole car ride. I don’t know if my brother is actually emotionally abusive to my nephew, since that would take effort and interest, and I haven’t seen a whole lot of that. So, this trip is being driven, in part, by my mom’s anger at my brother.

d.) My mom can’t drive. And I can’t stand the thought of my dad driving sixteen hours in two days by himself, since he is not a semi-truck driver, but a retired Methodist minister. So, I’ll drive 8 and he can drive 8.

e.) Because my brother decided to stop answering his phone, no one could discuss with him the possibility of discussing with his wife them getting the kid today and tomorrow, when the Butcher is off work and could help with the driving. Yes, they are still married. They’re approaching a decade of marriage and almost a decade of not living together. They both seem unaware that there’s no such thing as a common law divorce.

But the anger I feel about this, about the whole family, and the whole holiday revolving around my brother’s ongoing fuckups without directly addressing them with him literally makes me dizzy. And there are a few fires at work that need to be put out, so the thought of not having all three days in the office this week is kind of making me stressed, too.

I’m not sure of a way to address this, but it has to be addressed. But, I guess, I’ll have 16 hours in the car to figure it out.