Tag Archives: racism

2504. Job interview

I’m sorry Doctor Okonkwo. You might have a doctorate in Aerodynamics and such qualifications would sometimes suit such a job as ours, but unfortunately we cannot discriminate on the basis of race, colour, religion, ancestry, national origin, sex, age, marital status, sexual orientation, gender identity, disability, or genetic information.

You seem to scream unsuitability in as much as you have a flat nose, are black, a follower of African animism, are not descended from cannibals, hail from Swaziland, identify as male, are over 30 years old, are unmarried, have dated women, pretend you’re not gay, identify yourself with unacceptable pronouns, have a sperm count that is far too high, are in a wheelchair, have DNA that doesn’t match the boss’s family tree, don’t purport to be descended from slaves, and refuse to get inoculated against chimpanzee pox. In such circumstances your invention that enables time travel through space worms to other dimensions is completely irrelevant.

Next!

I’m sorry Doctor von Eberhardt. You might have a doctorate in Compressible Flow and such qualifications would sometimes suit such a job as ours, but unfortunately we cannot discriminate on the basis of race, colour, religion, ancestry, national origin, sex, age, marital status, sexual orientation, gender identity, disability, or genetic information.

You seem to scream unsuitability in as much as you have a pointy nose, are white, an enthusiastic Protestant, are descended from the Lord of a medieval fiefdom, hail from a section of Germany that no one has ever heard of, identify as female, are under 40 years old, are married, have dated men, refuse to refer to yourself as a birthing assortment of mammary glands, identify yourself with unacceptable pronouns, are not in a wheelchair, have DNA that doesn’t match the boss’s family tree, don’t have slave owners in your ancestry so you can’t apologise, and refuse to get inoculated against orangutan pox. In such circumstances your invention that enables helicopters to fly in an alien sky that is utterly devoid of gas is completely irrelevant.

Next!

2437.  A paradigm of pedagogy

(Pre-note: I’m not overly happy with this story because it’s too political, but I’m old and tired and will post it so as to get on with writing more murderous ones).

Evangeline was a highly qualified school teacher. She (pronoun of choice) was, to say the least, a state-of-the-art teacher. What she didn’t know wasn’t worth knowing. How she taught was the paradigm of pedagogy.

Persons! Persons! she would say. We are coming into Summer Time and there’s a mnemonic to help us remember. Spring back; Fall forward. It will tell us how to reset your phones. Say it together: Spring back; Fall forward. Or is it the other way around? Who cares? The phone company will change it for you automatically without your needing to do a thing.

Now for the calendar. Thirty days has September, August, March, and December. It’s something like that but facts don’t really matter so long as you know when your birthday is.

Now I will give you a little lesson in memorizing things. Always rhyme a word in your head. You will remember the rhyme and won’t forget the thing you have to remember. For homework I want you to make a list of every naughty word you can think of. Tomorrow we will make a combined list and find words that rhyme with them. That way you will remember them. There is to be no help from parents, is that clear?

Now, finally, Cornelius found a prophylactic on the patio. Yes Warwick? What is it?

Warwick: What’s a patio?

Evangeline: Never mind about such things, Warwick. I want you to go out into the corridor and tell the white kids they can come in now. But first, would everyone move over to the other side of the room.

2401.  A reflection on the Easter Bunny

Rabbits come in all colours and sizes. A lot depends whether or not people intend to eat them.

The sad fact is that if people intend to keep a rabbit as a pet most prefer a white rabbit. Does not the magician pull a white rabbit out of the hat? Does not little Felicity want a white baby bunny for a pet?

This is systemic racism at its worst. People will tolerate a black rabbit if it’s all there is available. Brown ones are wild, out-of-control, under-developed rabbits that should be exterminated and eaten provided they don’t have a disease, which is not an uncommon condition among feral brown rabbits. Patchy rabbits look like they can’t make up their minds. But fluffy white rabbits… oh! ah! oh!

Strangely however, chocolate Easter bunnies are almost inevitably made of dark chocolate. They are too dark to be considered to be brown. They are closer to black than brown. And they lay dark-coloured eggs. Some of these black eggs have white centres – which is an insidious plot by the white eggs to invade the space of the black eggs.

Look at the chocolate Easter Bunny. It is usually hollow. There is nothing inside. Nothing speaks louder than this extraordinary proclamation of chocolate rabbits having no brains. Or no heart.

Now watch the white middleclass bigot get stuck into the Easter Bunny. First they strip it of its beautiful shiny clothing. Then they might descend into breaking off its ears. I know of one white systemic racist who hit their black Easter bunny with a hammer while his children oohed and aahed their approval. It broke into a dozen little pieces.

There is only one solution to all this systemic racism: ban Easter altogether. There is no need to have a whole season devoted to this exultation of white bunnies and the extermination of chocolate ones by redneck hillbillies. Those who disagree should be condemned to eating hot cross buns for the rest of their lives.

2130. A litany of achievement

Beryl was excited. She had won a scholarship to a prestigious university.
“All my hard work paid off,” said Beryl. “This is unbelievably exciting! Thank you!”
“Oh no,” said the university. “You got the scholarship because you are Black.”

Earle was excited. He had won a scholarship to a prestigious university.
“All my hard work paid off,” said Earl. “This is unbelievably exciting! Thank you!”
“Oh no,” said the university. “You got the scholarship because you are in a wheelchair.”

Fay was excited. Fay had won a scholarship to a prestigious university.
“All my hard work paid off,” said Fay. “This is unbelievably exciting! Thank you!”
“Oh no,” said the university. “You got the scholarship because you are transgender.”

Craig was excited. He had won a scholarship to a prestigious university.
“All my hard work paid off,” said Craig. “This is unbelievably exciting! Thank you!”
“Oh no,” said the university. “You got the scholarship because you are White. We had to show we weren’t biased.”

(Footnote: Unlike the scholarship recipients in the story above I have had the thrill of having won first place in Chel Owens’ A Mused Poetry Contest. It’s well worth a look at this contest if you don’t already follow it. And it’s fun, free, and easy to enter! You should think about giving it a go!)

2097. There they go again

Now that cosmic aliens have become commonplace, and in the main taken for granted, certain serious problems have arisen.

I’m not talking about interplanetary marriages. These of course can create hitherto unthought of problems. A human and an alien falling in love is a bit like being besotted by a pet cat. Nothing wrong with loving ones cat. It’s the procreation bit that makes the mess. There are now all sorts of bylaws and mores to govern transplanetary sex. How does an Earthling, for example, have sex with a creature who has… Oh, doesn’t matter…

But it’s the racism that gets to me. As an alien on Earth from the Planet Spectrifica I can only say I have felt the full force of Earthly bigotry many a time. Earthlings used to discriminate against Asians and Blacks and Europeans and any subdivision they cared to create that was governed by looks or beliefs. These days this full-faced vengeance is aimed at aliens from outer space. They cannot accept the fact that every alien from every planet has features Earthlings posit as being ludicrous. Only the other day I saw two Earthling schoolgirls giggling at a Tronkinish who had three belly buttons on his/her forehead. The various races on Earth are now united by their common hatred and scorn of aliens.

That is why I have founded a group that gives voice to protest against these bigotries. It is called ALARM. For the name I simply took the first letter of every word in the name; which seems to be a practice used by the Earthlings. For example there are UN and BLM and USA and UK and NASA and so on. So I settled on ALARM.

ALARM is become increasingly popular with us aliens. We stand together against the ignorance of Earthlings.

Some Earthling asked (on television would you believe): What do the letters of ALARM stand for? I said that ALARM stands for ALIEN LIVES ARE REALLY IMPORTANT. They said that would be ALARI not ALARM. I simply sighed and thought, There they go again. Earthlings continue to impose their restrictive perceptions on every living creature in the Universe. It seems they will never learn. If scrunchers weren’t illegal on this backward planet I’d get one and scrunch the lot.

2090. Pianoforte lessons, darling

Mazie’s daughter was Mayzing. Mazie was outraged. Her friend, Tammy, was also a parent at Mayzing’s school. The Hir-Oh-No Academy of Arts was not only expensive; it was the cat’s pyjamas. Tammy’s daughter, Shammy, was studying pianoforte at the Academy.

“It’s a wonderful skill to have, darling” said Tammy to Mazie. Thus it was that Mazie enrolled Mayzing in pianoforte. But what a shock!

“You have no idea,” declared Mazie. “More than half the pianoforte keys were white. There are only five black notes to every seven white notes. But what does one expect when all the composers, like Mozart and Beethoven and Burt Bacharach, had bigotry bred into them? I told Mayzing’s teacher that I wanted her to learn only the black notes. There must be pieces written for just the black notes.”

These days, Mayzing is confused. The only true Black notes are Blues ones.

2089. Gertrude, Professor of Philosophy

Gertrude had spent her adulthood thinking. Since early teens she had been interested in philosophy, and several doctorates later she found a job teaching at a university. She worked her way up the ladder and it didn’t take long before she was queen of the roost.

But did she rule with an iron fist! Many thoughts and philosophical insights were banned from her department. Some things are plain wrong, she said, and will not be tolerated. Socrates to start with; his name is not to be mentioned.  And indeed such sinful thoughts were not tolerated. Several lecturers lost their jobs. A number of bright students failed. We’re not here to mollycoddle notions of wrongness, she said. Those who don’t agree cannot be defined as philosophers. Philosophy exists to move the world forward in a very specific way.

The university, at her behest, banned Romeo and Juliet for sexism, Othello and The Merchant of Venice for racism, all opera sung by systemically racist Whites – except of course for Verdi’s Otello and Puccini’s Madame Butterfly if the lead parts were sung by Blacks and Asians. The university’s History Department made an attempt to win her favour. Would she lecture in History? She knew how to create facts more amenable to contemporary thought. Likewise, the School of Medicine wanted her to devise a curriculum that stuck to a Science that advanced social justice.

Anyway, one day, while walking from the staff cafeteria to the staff recreation room, she dropped dead. As Mrs. Smith of 24 Shirley Crescent in the suburbs observed: Is there a God or is there a God?

1643. Foreign neighbours

My name is Margot. I don’t think much of the new neighbours. For starters, they are foreigners and don’t fit well into the area. In fact they lower the tone of the suburb considerably. Not that I’ve anything against foreigners, but when people come to a country that is not theirs they should make some effort to fit in; meld into the surroundings. You’d think they would; that’s what rats do. Peacocks strut around, and when a peacock shows off and spreads its tail you can see its arsehole. These people strut around like they own the place.

The new neighbours, so I heard, are Antoinette and Leon from Beijing or somewhere. China anyway. You can tell these things even though they’ve taken Western names. I thought communists were meant to be not so well off, but you should see their three cars! And the house they live in (I presume they rent and don’t own, though why the landlord thinks it’s okay to rent to communists I have no idea) is one of the most lavish houses in our neighbourhood. And that’s saying something. They’ve got three young children. No wonder the world is overrun.

Here comes the one called Antoinette up my path now. Presumably she’s going to ask for a cup of noodles or something! Chop! Chop!

Ching Chong Chinaman
Coming up my path
I shall pretend to be foreign
Just for a laugh.

“Hello. My name’s Antoinette. I’m the new neighbour. I thought I’d come over and introduce myself.”

“When you come from China?”

“Pardon?”

“When you come from China to dis place?”

“From China? I didn’t. My family have been here since 1824.”

1608. Not the Breaking News

Breaking News:

Almost an entire section of New York was in darkness after an electrical explosion put a stop to trains and traffic lights. What a shemozzle! And the mayor of the city wasn’t even in town. No one could cook their dinner. It was useless going out to eat as the restaurants too were without power. Theatre performances ground to a halt. Nancy Tubman, the rising darling of Broadway, was half way through singing “Somewhere over the…” when the blackout hit. For two and a half hours residents were subjected to darkness. One can only imagine the havoc that will ensue once the Russians gain the power to flick a switch on the entire city. Congresswoman, Eliza Muktha Zaiton, from California said, “This power blackout in parts of a suburb of New York was yet another manifestation of global warming and of the racism that has gripped the country. So step up and shut up.” Hector Tronkwell of the Hollywood Actors’ Union said that “This effing halting of effing Nancy effing Tubman, the effing rising effing darling of effing Broadway, half way through her effing song was yet another effing example of where we are effing at.”

Not the Breaking News:

Mrs. Claudia Jones said she had been living in a tent on the street with her three children for four months now. With winter fast approaching Congresswoman, Eliza Muktha Zaiton, from California, said something needs to be done to fight the cold so she is supporting the removal of all tents from city streets.

1404. Sausages

It was nine year old Natalie’s turn to give a talk in class. She thought it would be fun to talk about sausages!

“There are all sorts of different sausages,” began Natalie. “First of all there are many different types of German sausage.”

“Excuse me,” said Heinrich in the class, “but I’m German and I don’t like being called a sausage. That’s racist.”

The teacher gently explained to Heinrich that the term “German” was in reference to food. There was nothing racist about it.

“Then,” continued Natalie, “there’s Polish sausage.”

“Excuse me,” said Karol in the class, “but I’m Polish and I don’t like being called a sausage. That’s racist.”

The teacher gently explained to Karol that the term “Polish” was in reference to food. There was nothing racist about it.

“Finally,” said Natalie, “there’s a sausage called black pudding made out of pig’s blood and fat.”

“You naughty, naughty racist child,” exclaimed the teacher. “I suppose you get that attitude from your parents. You will take time out. We are not going to have that attitude in my classroom.”