giovedì 11 agosto 2011

The Mysterious Case Of The N-Word

Being a person who does not speak english as a first language but, most importantly, a person who lives in a country that isnt even close to the idea of a racial metlin pot, i always felt weirdly detached towards the idea of words being offensive.

I dont diosagree with that. I am sure that when you live in a contezt where every single asshole you meet spews an offensive slur and then hides behind feeedom of speech, makes you want to react violently.
Also, while still being a person who doesnt really get the full depth of a slur, i despise people who use the idea of being "not politically correct" in order to be racist, hateful, intolerant or simply ignorant.
I think that 99% of people are fundamentally ignorant and hateful. Its the way humans are born and, eventually, they will be shaped into more logical individuals through education and life experience. But somehow the primal pulse is to be ignorant morons. Being sexist, intolerant and aggressive, is something that most people have as a natural drive. Some sort of claw-less version of the aggressive pulse of animals, sheped into a low level form of attack by the ever-so-lame tendency of humanity to create verbal excuses for thyeir istincts.

Once people used to have shame for being bad people. The ones who didnt have that, were labeled as unrepentant, dangerous individuals. Maybe they ruled society, maybe they were the majority (and they still are) but you could point them out. Now when a p'erson is that way and expresses dangerous ideas, they are able to call YOU intolerant when you point out their ignorance.
Being racist, sexist, homophobic, violent, aggressive, unable to discuss anything in a civilized manner now equals being "not PC" or "telling it like it is". And as much as some people like to delude themselves into the idea that assholes are only a section of humanity, a loud one , but not the norm, i think its the contrary.

Still, there is a reason. I wont take stances but i will tell a story. Bear with me and, if you want, give me your cents.

A long time ago, i used to hang out a lot in a zone of Turin close to the main river. That was the place where you could genrally meet the most people, thanks to the fresh air and the converging of all sorts to humanity to that point. Also there were nightclubs, bars, restaurants and an amazing night view of the city. And a LOT of pushers. I bought weed thjere, i dont hide that. Sitting on the riverbank, high and watching the moon was quite the experience, one of many the city gave us.

Still, like it often happens with places like that, the borders of that zone were full of hot headed immigrants. They hung out there too and they were genrally pissed. Being one of tyheir customer and a generally pleasant guy usually saved me from trouble. I remember buying an extra spicy kebab by one of those. The man sat there with a garden styled grill and spices and made those infernal kebab sandwiches, with his mysterious silent mother next to him, bat5hing her legs in a bucket of cold water and telling him who he could sell the meat to and who was banned. I was white but i was accepted.

Anyway, one night, one of my friuends got a bit too drunk and started singing a song with a lot of "Nigga" in thge lurics. In a matter of seconds, a bunch of giagantic african guys and a couple of middle eastern ones surrounded him and started asking him the classics pre-beatdown questions. He tried to explain but the guys wanted to kick his ass.

Me and a bunch of bigger dudes, managed to be the peacemakers, pick up the guy, who went through the drunk bravery and sudden terror phases, and run away.

Later, at a bar, a common friend, a socially conscious lady, declared that the fellas were in the right, since they had to bear racism all their lives so one could not utter that word even in a song and at a distance.

That kind of argument made me want to be racist. But maybe i'm wrong. Whatevs.,

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