Saturday, March 22, 2008

Who's the "racist" now?

To save you time on your Saturday newspaper reading, here's a simple distillation of what's on offer today.

Globe and Mail vs. National Post

Because it is no longer socially acceptable to express any antipathy toward any group based on any category, Dr. Inzlicht believes that we now have two types of prejudice: modern and implicit. “A modern racist is someone who hides their racism behind things like objections to social policies. But the deeper issue,” explains Dr. Inzlicht, “is that there are some people who are prejudiced and have stereotyped views who aren't aware of it themselves. This is probably true for many, if not most of the people in our society. It is called implicit prejudice.”
To Dr. Galabuzi, the current situation requires dialogue but also swift action. “We need to seize the moment and recognize that if we don't proceed with a vigilant approach to systemic racism, the likelihood is that things will degenerate. We haven't seen the bottom of this issue yet. It is a very unsettling time, not just on campus, but around the world. We need a master plan.”
National Post:
Men, if while adhering to the dictates of an ancient creed, you find yourself housing four welfare wives, imported, one by one, from the wretched homeland, why have you not formed a curling team? Imagine the jostling for position:Who gets to be lead, second, vice, skip? Smock-ripping brawl to follow. And then, makeup sex -- you'll need a long weekend! No, you won't. None of you has a job.
I am not really a faith-baiter. I will prove it. Here is a goodwill tip all faiths can apply for smoother inter-relations. Chocolate.

Add chocolate (or wax facsimile) moulded to the likeness of a fluffy creature, its gestation chamber or scat, SpongeBob SquarePants, any lovely thing. When chocolate is attached, the gruesome feast day of a necrophagia cult becomes a festival of smacking lips for believer and barbarian alike. Perhaps your house of worship harbours an extremist element. Distribute pieces of soothing chocolate. No one ever waged holy war while 'dorphed up on Cadbury's. Chocolate is the food of peace. You can't hate the world, you can't even hate America, not seriously, when the next holy day on your calendar promises chocolate. If you are a man of profound faith and four-bunk henhouse whom Canada's community of communities isn't cuddling up to, the answer may be a choco chipmunk and four acorns, cream-filled. Choose a day on your worship roster. Once a year, give your cute treats to all you meet. Hey, you're not a scary pervert any more. Now you can do a curling fan a favour. When you're handing out chocolates, start down at the rink. Bring your women.

Say what you will, but I still insist the real Two Solitudes of Canadian Life has something to do with curling.

HTs: Blazing Cat Fur and Ezra Levant.

1 comment:

Dag said...

I don't hardly ever use the term "necrophagia", though I might over-use caprophagia too often in compensation. It is a bad thing? Or is it that I'm inherently a biased kind of personoid? Can I be successfully re-edgumacated out of my systemicness? I think there is little hope, me being a typical grandmother-type of any cheap hustler of a presidential candidate these dark days. Yeah, then pile up them choco-babies and let's feast on our same old same-old, our high diversities, our gorging on the usual, covered as it is in sweetness and lite. Might as well go out smiling, as that deepest of thinkers, Eldrich Cleaver, cast-out son of Leavitto, claimed of those so poorly used, smiling the "shit-eating grin" in the morgue.

And all this time I thought I was a normal guy. Me and my false consciousness. There's no hope but in calories, however empty. Necrophagia. I'm so uncool. So lacking in taste. So utterly hopeless and irredeemable.

Pass the mass.