Archive for June, 2015

public service announcement.

Posted in Uncategorized on June 19, 2015 by darryl zero

Okay, so I know I may have some people in my friends list that buy into certain levels of right-wing nonsense–White Privilege deniers, anti-Affirmative Action activists, “Reverse-Racism” screamers, ish like that.

When you step to my page, carbon-copying right-wing nutjobbery without proofreading it, don’t expect me to be as lazy with my arguments as you are.  I read things–shit, I have a degree that says I’m pretty damn good at it.

When your nutjobbery that you blindly copy-and-paste includes the words “killed by n*****,” you DO NOT have the right to say things like “that’s not me” when I call you on it.  Because, guess what?  THAT IS YOU.

If your dogma is conducive to people that hold those ideals, guess what?  THAT IS YOU.

There’s more to being a racist scumbag than calling Black people bad names or being involved in the KKK.  If I sound “hateful” or “angry” to you, it’s because I’m sick and fucking tired of having to point out what is obvious for most non-white people in this country.

If your response to obvious racial disparities is to try and spout statistics about illegal immigrants or city-dwelling Blackfolk committing crimes, you might as well be saying “killed by n******,” because THAT IS YOU.

If you try to say “well, why can’t I be ‘transracial’ because I don’t feel ‘white’,” you might as well be saying “killed by n*****,” because THAT IS YOU.

If you allow injustice to exist, if you throw technicalities up to try and cherry-pick which aspects of white supremacy are the most obviously pernicious, THAT IS YOU.

Chuck D said it best: “when we see the real side, they hide behind a vote.”  Sorry to say, white folks, but we cannot trust you.  We cannot look at you with anything other than trepidation and tension because, for all the shit we hear about how things are “better than they were back in [insert time when white people were less polite than they are now],” THE SAME SHIT KEEPS HAPPENING, and people trying to piss it away with bullshit, privilege-oriented platitudes like “vengeance isn’t justice” doesn’t help.

You want us to think “that isn’t you?”

We demand justice.  We demand respect.

We will be treated with it.

And you goddamn better well thank your lucky stars that I’m good with words, because that’s the only reason why I’m using them instead of something more permanent.


a collection of thoughts.

Posted in Uncategorized with tags on June 8, 2015 by darryl zero

At this point, I’ve been at work for sixteen hours.  With a little over six hours left to go, I’m trying as hard as I can to care about doing the rest of the things required for me on this shift and not simply just be a warm body, because the person I’m replacing was little more than that.

In the days leading up to my son’s birth, I resolved I was going to be here more often and, like always, I haven’t held up my end of the bargain.  The long-and-short of it is that being a dad and being a husband have both been completely different from what I expected them to be.  I expected being a husband to make me feel completely different, like there was some kind of new pathway opening up to me, making me feel comfortable with monogamy not long after I realized I could comfortably and functionally live without it.  I expected being a father to feel only negligibly different from my normal method of operating.

The reality of being a husband is basically the same as being a boyfriend, only your insurance costs a shitload more.  I stand by my confusion and annoyance with why She-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed decreed marriage to be a prerequisite of having kids, BUT, on the other hand, there’s probably some kind of upside, right?  I mean, the wedding presents were nice–the wedding itself was fucking awesome–but the practical reality of being someone’s husband so far is just having to factor someone else’s income into my own legal wranglings.

Being a dad is simultaneously exactly what I expected it to be and completely beyond my wildest dreams.  Being away from my son so much because of my job is…painful, actually.  Everything about my son has been a surprise, dating back to when I first heard my wife was pregnant.  His blue eyes, his calm demeanor, and his sheer cuteness–all things I probably could have foreseen, but nonetheless surprise me.  Holding him, I feel the kind of weird sense of rightness that would feel even better if it didn’t come at times at which I am either exhausted or in pain.  But he’s so cute, and when he looks at me and smiles, I cry a little, because he’s my son, my son, and it’s real, and I feel happy and calm.

I guess I need to get back to work.