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Canibus - Master Thesis
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the omega man
12.27.2002/11:10 AM -- Indian vs. Native American
| | Now, the Indians. I call them Indians because that's what they are. They're Indians. There's nothing wrong with the word Indian. First of all, it's important to know that the word Indian does not derive from Columbus mistakenly believing he had reached "India." India was not even called by that name in 1492; it was known as Hindustan. More likely, the word Indian comes from Columbus' description of the people he found here. He was an Italian, and did not speak or write very good Spanish, so in his written accounts he called the Indians, "Una gente in Dios." A people in God. In God. In Dios. Indians. It's a perfectly noble and respectable word.
So let's look at this pussified, trendy bullshit phrase, Native Americans. First of all, they're not natives. They came over the Bering land bridge from Asia, so they're not natives. There are no natives anywhere in the world. Everyone is from somewhere else. All people are refugees, immigrants, or aliens. If there were natives anywhere, they would be people who still live in the Great Rift valley in Africa where the human species arose. Everyone else is just visiting. So much for the "native" part of Native American.
As far as calling them "Americans" is concerned, do I even have to point out what an insult this is? Jesus Holy Shit Christ!! We steal their hemisphere, kill twenty or so million of them, destroy five hundred separate cultures, herd the survivors onto the worst land we can find, and now we want to name them after ourselves? It's appalling. Haven't we done enough damage? Do we have to further degrade them by tagging them with the repulsive name of their conquerors?
And as far as these classroom liberals who insist on saying "Native American" are concerned, here's something they should be told: It's not up to you to name the people and tell them what they ought to be called. If you'd leave the classroom once in a while, you'd find that most Indians are insulted by the term Native American. The American Indian Movement will tell you that if you ask them.
The phrase "Native American" was invented by the U.S. government Department of the Interior in 1970. It is an inventory term used to keep track of people. It includes Hawaiians, Eskimos, Samoans, Micronesians, Polynesians, and Aleuts. Anyone who uses the phrase Native American is assisting the U.S. government in its effort to obliterate people's true identities.
Do you want to know what the Indians would like to be called? Their real names: Adirondack, Delaware, Massachuset, Narranganset, Potomac, Illinois, Miami, Alabama, Ottawa, Waco, Wichita, Mohave, Shasta, Yuma, Erie, Huron, Susquehanna, Natchez, Mobile, Yakima, Wallawalla, Muskogee, Spokan, Iowa, Missouri, Omaha, Kansa, Biloxi, Dakota, Hatteras, Klamath, Caddo, Tillamook, Washoe, Cayuga, Oneida, Onondaga, Seneca, Laguna, Santa Ana, Winnebago, Pecos, Cheyenne, Menominee, Yankton, Apalachee, Chinook, Catawba, Santa Clara, Taos, Arapaho, Blackfoot, Blackfeet, Chippewa, Cree, Mohawk, Tuscarora, Cherokee, Seminole, Choctaw, Chickasaw, Comanche, Shoshone, Two Kettle, Sans Arc, Chiricahua, Kiowa, Mescalero, Navajo, Nez Perce, Potawatomi, Shawnee, Pawnee, Chickahominy, Flathead, Santee, Assiniboin, Oglala, Miniconjou, Osage, Crow, Brule, Hunkpapa, Pima, Zuni, Hopi, Paiute, Creek, Kickapoo, Ojibwa, Shinnicock.
You know, you'd think it would be a fairly simple thing to come over to this continent, commit genocide, eliminate the forests, dam up the rivers, build our malls and massage parlors, sell our blenders and whoopee cushions, poison ourselves with chemicals, and let it go at that. But no. We have to compound the insult. Native Americans! I'm glad the Indians have gambling casinos now. It makes me happy that dimwitted white people are losing their rent money to the Indians. Maybe the Indians will get lucky and win their country back. Probably they wouldn't want it. Look what we did to it.
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12.24.2002/9:50 PM -- Have A Good Time
| | You know what bothers me? People who want to know the time. The ones who come up and ask me, "What time is it?" as if I, personally were responsible for keeping track of such things.
Sometimes they phrase it a little differently. They'll say, "Do you have the time?" And I say, "No. I don't believe I do. I certainly didn't have it this morning when I left the house. Could you possibly have left it somewhere? You know, now that you mention it. I believe the navy has the time. In Washington. They keep it in an observatory or something, and they let a little of it out each day. Not too much, of course. Just enough. They wouldn't want to give us too much time; we might not use it wisely." Sometimes, in a playful mood, when asked if I have the time, I'll say, "Yes," and simply walk away.
I do that becasue I hate to disappoint people. You see, there is no time. There's just no time. I don't mean, "We're late, there's no time." I mean, there is no time.
After all, when is it? Do you know? No one really knows when it is. We made the whole thing up. It's a human invention. There are no numbers in the sky. Believe me, I've looked; they're not there. We made the whole thing up.
So, when are we? Somtimes we think we know where we are, but we really don't know when we are. For all we know, it could be the middle of last week.
And the time zones are no help; they're all different. In fact, in parts of India the time zones actually operate on the half hour instead of the hour. What is that all about? Does anybody really know what time it is?
And never mind a piddly little half-hour difference in India, how about thousands of years? The major calendars disagree by thousands of years. To the Chinese, this is 4700; the Hebrews think it's 5763; the Muslims swear it's 1422. No telling what the Mayans and Aztecs would say if they were still around. I guess their time ran out.
Remember these are calendars we're talking about, instuments specifically designed to keep track of time. And they're all different. And they're not just off by a couple of weeks, this is thousands of goddamn years we're talking about. How did that happen?
Our current (Gregorian) calendar is such an amateur show that every four years we have to cram in an extra day just to make the whole thing work. We call it February 29. Personally, I don't believe it. Deep down, I know it's really March 1. I mean, it just feels like March 1, doesn't it?
But even that simple quadrennial adjustment doesn't fix things, so every 100 years we suspened that rule and dispense with the extra day. Unless, of course, the year is divisible by 400, in which case we suspend the suspension and add the extra day. But that's still not quite enough, so every 4,000 years we suspend that rule too, and back comes February 29!
Here's how we got to this sorry state: The Julian calendar was introduced in 46 B.C., the Roman year 709, but it was off by eleven minutes a year, so by 1582 there was an accumulated error of ten days. Accordingly, that year Pope Gregory XIII decreed that the day following October 4 would be called October 15. They just skipped ten days. Threw them out. Officially, in 1582, no one was born in France, Italy, Spain or Portugal during the period October 5 through October 14. Weird, huh?
But even weirder, Britain didn't adopt the Gregorian calendar till 1752, when they dropped eleven days out of September. Since this also applied to the American colonies, officially, no one was born here from September 3 through September 13, 1752. Except Indians. By the way, during that same year New Year's Day was moved from March 25 to January 1. The way it had been handled before, for example, was that March 24, 1750, would be followed by March 25, 1751. Pretty fucked uo huh? And you thought that big millennium party you went to was being held right on time.
We try hard to keep track of time, but it's futile. You can't pin it down. For example, there's a moment coming...it's not here yet...it's still in the future...it's on the way...it hasn't arrived...it's getting closer...here it is..Oh shit, it's gone!
We use words like "now". But it's a useless word, because every time you say it, it means something different.
"Can you tell me the time?"
"Which time did you want? Now? Or the time you asked me? Or how about now? Is this the time you want? Speak up, this stuff ain't standing still."
Now, think of the phrase "just now".
"Did you hear that?"
"What?"
"Just now."
"You mean, 'Just then?'"
"Yes, just then. Wait, there it is again!"
"When?"
"Just now."
Everything we think of as "now" is either the very recent past or the very near future. There's no present. "Welcome to the present." FUCK! Gone again!
It's all so imprecise that people sometimes don't bother with minutes and hours at all; they keep things purposely vague.
"What time you got?"
"Just after."
Just after? Shit, my watch is slow. I got 'goin' on.'"
It's amazing how something as precisely calibrated as time can be described so loosely. Especially where short periods of time are concerned. We say "at once," "immediately," "right away," "just like that," "no time at all," "nothing flat," "at a moment's notice."
And one that I never understood: "Before you can say Jack Robinson." You don't hear that much anymore, do you? Maybe Jack ran out of time. Maybe he was an Aztec. And, let's not forget a "jiffy." Or a "flash." Do you know which is quicker? Well, I looked it up; in fact, there are two jiffies in a flash. And there are six flashes in a blink of an eye. No one seems to know how many blinks of an eye there in two shakes of a lamb's tail. And, by the way, why is it two shakes of a lamb's tail? Wouldn't the basic unit of measurement be one shake of a lambs tail?
Another vague word is "soon." For me, soon has an emotional quality; it has great potential for sadness.
"Is Daddy ever coming to visit us again?"
"Yes."
"When?"
"Soon."
Here's a spooky one: "Sooner than you think." Wow! Sooner than I think. That's like "before you know it."
"I'll be back before you know it."
ZOOM!
"Holy shit! He did it!!"
"Sooner or later," "one of these days," "any day now," "from time to time," "every now and then," "a little while." Ya know, "a little while" is nice. So gentle. "I'll be home in a little while." That wouldn't bother you, would it? I think anyone could wait a little while. It doesn't sound too threatening. "Your father is sick, but he still has 'a little while.'" That's different from "a short time." A short time sounds terminal. If I were about to be executed, I'd much rather have a little while than a short time.
By the way, do you have a favorite period of time? It isn't easy to select a favorite period of time, there are so many appealing ones. I have a few. To me, the most useful period of time is five minutes. That seems to be the one most people choose when they're pressed. "I'll be there in five minutes." "Gimme five minutes, will ya?" "Whattaya, kiddin'? I could fix that thing in five minutes!"
That's all most people want. Five minutes. A good, solid, respectable period of time. And it goes by fast. I think I could do just about anything for five minutes. Even the most distasteful task.
"Let's go talk to George Bush."
"Are you kiddin'? He's an asshole."
"Look, just five minutes, okay?"
"Okay, five minutes. But no more! After that I'm gonna throw up."
Fifteen minutes is a popular period of time. But it has an institutional ring to it. A regulatory quality. It sounds like it's associated with something either compulsory or forbidden.
"The exchange window will only be open for fifteen minutes."
"You have fifteen minutes to fill out the forms..."
"In fifteen minutes we will be coming around and..."
I like twenty minutes better. Twenty minutes sounds kind of free and sporty.
"I'll be back to pick up those test papers in fifteen minutes. Then you'll havea twenty-minute break."
"Hey man, tell the teacher I checked out, will ya? I'll be back in twenty minutes."
Twenty minutes. Just enough to get some vaginer.
Have a good time.
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12.23.2002/3:27 PM -- Black vs. African American
| | Let me tell you how I handle some of these speech issues we encounter each day. First of all, I say "black." I say "black" because most black people prefer "black." I don't say "people of color." People of color sounds like something you see when you're on mushrooms. Besides, the use of people of color is dishonest. It means precisely the same as colored people. If you're not willing to say "colored people," you shouldn't be saying "people of color."
  Besides, the whole idea of color is bullshit anyway. What should we call white people? "People of no color?" Isn't pink a color? In fact, white people are not really white at all, they're different shades of pink, olive, and beige. In other words, they're colored. And black people are rarely black. I see mostly different shades of brown and tan. In fact, some light-skinned black people are lighter than the darkest white people. Look how dark the people in India are. They're dark brown, but they're considered white people. What's going on here? May I see the color chart? "People of color" is an awkward, bullshit, liberal-guilt phrase that obscures meaning rather than enhancing it. Shall we call fat people, "people of size?"
By the way, I think the whole reason we're encouraged in this country to think of ourselves as "black and white" (instead of "pink and brown," which is what we are) is that black and white are complete opposites that cannot be reconciled. Black and white can never come together. Pink and brown, on the other hand, might just stand a chance of being blended, might just come together. Can't have that! Doesn't fit the plan.
I also don't say "African-American." I find it completely illogical, and furthermore it's confusing. Which part of Africa are we talking about? What about Egypt? Egypt is in Africa. Egyptians aren't black. They're like the people in India, they're dark brown white people. But they're Africans. So why wouldn't an Egyptian who becomes a U.S. citizen be an African-American? The same thing goes for the Republic of South Africa. Suppose a white racist from South Africa becomes an American citizen? Well, first of all he'd find plenty of company, but couldn't he also be called an African-American? It seems to me that a racist white South-African guy could come here and call himself African-American just to piss off black people. And, by the way, what about a black person born in South Africa who moves here and becomes a citizen? What is he? An African-South-African-American? Or a South-African-African-American?
Alright, back to this hemisphere. How about a black woman who is a citizen of Jamaica? According to P.C. doctrine, she's an African-Jamaican, right? But if she becomes a U.S. citizen, she's a Jamaican-American. And yet if one of these language crusaders saw her on the street, he'd think she was an African-American. Unless he knew her personally in which case he would have to decide between African-Jamaican-American and Jamaican-African-American. Ya know? It's just so much liberal bullshit. Labels divide people. We need fewer labels, not more.
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12.21.2002/11:30 PM -- no god
| | I make fun of people who are religious, because I think they're fundamentally weak. But I want you to know that on a personal level, when it comes to believing in God, I tried. I really, really tried. I tried to believe there is a God, who created us in his own image, loves us very much, and keeps a close eye on things.
I tried to believe it. But I have to tell you, the longer you live the more you look around, the more you realize...something is fucked up. Something is wrong. War, disease, death, destruction, hunger, filth, poverty, torture, crime, corruption, and the Backstreet Boys. Something is definitely wrong.
If this is the best God can do, I'm not impressed. Results like these do not belong on the resume of a supreme being. This is the kind of stuff you'd expect from an office temp with a bad attitude. In any well-managed universe, this guy would've been out on his all-powerfull ass a long time ago.
So, if there is a God--if there is--I think reasonable people might agree he's at least incompetent and maybe, just maybe, he doesn't give a shit. Which I admire in a person, and which would explain a lot of these results.
So, rather than becoming just another mindless, religious robot, blindly believing that everything is in the hands of some spooky, incompetent father figure who doesn't give a shit, I decided to look around for something else to worship. Something I could really count on. And immediately, I thought of the sun. It happened in an instant. Overnight, I became a sun worshipper.
Well, not overnight; you can't see the sun in the dark. But first thing the next morning, I became a sun worshipper. For several reasons: First of all, I can see the sun. Unlike some other gods I could mention, I can actually see the sun. I'm big on that. If I can see something, it kind of helps the credibility.
Every day I can see the sun as it gives me everything I need: heat, light, food, flowers in the park, reflections on the lake. An ocasional skin cancer, but, hey! At least there are no crucifixions. And we sun worshippers don't go around killing other people simply because they don't agree with us.
Sun worship is fairly simple. there's no mystery, no miracles, no pagentry, no one asks for money, there are no songs to learn, and we don't have a special building where we all gather once a week to compare clothing. And the best thing about the sun...it never tells me I'm unworthy. It doesn't tell me I'm a bad person who needs to be saved. Hasn't said an unknind word treats me fine.
So I worship the sun. But I don't pray to the sun. You know why? Because I wouldn't presume on our friendship. It's not polite. I've often thought people treat God rather rudely. Trillions and trillions of prayers every day, asking and pleading and begging for favors. "Do this; give me that; I need this; I want that." And most of this praying takes place on Sunday, his day off! It's not nice, and it's no way to treat a friend.
But still people do pray and they pray and they pray for many different things. And that's al right with me. I say, pray for anything you want. Pray for anything. But...what about the Divine Plan? Remember that? The Divine Plan? A long time ago, God came up with a divine plan. He gave it alot of thought, he decided it was a good plan, and he put it into practice. And for billions and billions of years the Divine Plan has been doing just fine.
But now you come along and pray for something. Well, suppose the thing you're praying for isn't in God's Divine Plan? What do you want him to do? Change his plan? Just for you? Isn't that sort of arrogant? It's a Divine Plan! What good is being God if every rundown fuck with a two-dollar prayer book can come along and fuck with your plan?
And here's another problem you might encounter. Suppose your prayers aren't answered? What do you do then? What do you say? "Well, it's God's will. Thy will be done"? Fine. But if it's God's will, and he's going to do what he wants anyway, why bother praying in the first place? Doesn't it seem like a big waste of time? Couldn't you just skip the praying part and go straight to "his will"? It's all very confusing to me.
So, to get around all this, I decided to worsip the sun. But as I said, I don't pray to the sun. You know who I pray to? My Uncle Jimmy. Two reasons. First of all, he's big. To me that counts. Second, he's a guy who can get things done. Uncle Jimmy doesn't fuck around. In fact, he came through on a couple of things that God was having trouble with. For years I asked God to do something about my noisy neighbor's barking dog. Nothing happened. But Uncle Jimmy? He straightened that shit out with one visit. It's amazing what you can accomplish with a simple piece of athletic equipment.
So, I've been praying to Uncle Jimmy for a couple of years now, and I've noticed something. I've noticed that all the prayers I used to offer to God and all the prayers I now offer to Uncle Jimmy are being answer at about the same 50% rate. Half the time I get what I want, half the time I don't. Same as God. Fifty-fifty. Same as the four leaf clover, the horseshoe, the wishing well, and the rabbit's foot. Same as the mojo man, or the voodoo lady who tells you your fotune by squeezing a goat's testicles. It's all the same, fifty-fifty. So just pick a superstitiont you like, sit back, make a wish, and enjoy yourself.
And for those of you who look to the Bible for its moral lessons and literary qualities, I have a couple of other stories I'd like to recommend. You might want to try "The Three Little Pigs." That's a good one, it has a nice happy ending. Then there's "Little Red Riding Hood," although it does have that one X-rated part where the Big Bad Wolf actually eats the grandmother. Even grandpa won't do that. So I didn't care too much for that.
And finally, I've always drawn a great deal of moral comfort from Humpty Dumpty. The part I like best: "All the kind's horses and all the kings's men couldn't put Humpty Dumpty back together again." That's because there is no Humpty Dumpty. And there is no God. None, not one, never was. No God. Sorry. :) |
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