We were walking to our movie and
Ann was saying, "so, I learned how to eat with chopsticks when I was young, and I remember that a friend of mine saw me and she asked how I learned how to do it, and I said that I learned it from my mom, and she asked if my mom was Asian and I said,
'do I look Asian?'We chuckled at that and I said that it was a
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Comments 19
Want me to break his legs?
=)
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don't you see!? the cycle of violence never ends!
... can't we all just get along?
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If you had fought him, the rest of the would have probably been ruined. So it's better you didn't fight him.
Still, I feel a rant coming on.
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which is maybe nuts in its own right.
sorry. it always astounds me that these things happen.
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I'm not sure if he was out-and-out nuts, but he seemed slightly unhinged, which also added to my reluctance towards starting something. If this was just some random guy being stupid and macho, a quick couple of blows would've probably been enough to tell him that he'd picked the wrong target. But this guy was borderline rabid, and a fight with him would've probably gotten really nasty, really fast.
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Fuct Up.
Oh, and Cris, thanks for linking to that godawful photo publicly. :p
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but, yeah, it was creepy.
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I grew up with these people, and some of them are related by blood. One of them is my father, who doesn't shout at passers-by any more ... the redemption of age and perspective, I suppose, but it's still simmering under the surface. We fought about it, sometimes physically, mostly me screaming at him to stop, just stop. Stop.
You don't understand, he'd begin. What these people ...
I don't understand YOU, the adolescent Paisley screamed back.
But I did. I do. I do understand it. It's not justifiable. It's madness built on generations of similar madness, sprung to ugly acts by the trigger of torture. They see it in the mirror every morning when they shave. It informs every interaction that they have with anyoneOnce, I stopped my father from yelling out the car when we passed a couple walking down the street. All I said was, "Tell me what happened to you. Tell me. What happened ( ... )
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but I stopped there, because I also knew of other veterans that went through hell and don't use it as an excuse for hate.
your statement about not being able to move on captures part of that, but another part of me wonders how much of that is also just being unable to override the programming that says that your enemy is not a human being ... just some brown-skinned, slanty-eyed monster that's out to kill what's dear to you and yours.
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and now, some crisku:
cris is amazing
he is dreamy; this is true
dear cris, we love you!
though, coming from me, that may be a bit presumptuous
you get my point. :P
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