Rest In Peace Howard Zinn

Howard Zinn passed away on January 27 in California. He was 87 years old.

His legacy is great and he will be sorely missed for telling it like it is and contesting the dominance of imperial American history.

A main ingredient of Zinn's academic work, as famously found in his "People's History of the United States", was his insistence on balancing protest/dissent against dominant and domineering historical narratives.

Even the usually stoic establishment newspaper, The Washington Post, said a People's History "provided an alternative to the then dominant 'dead white male' version of history."

By "then" they mean 1980 when the book was published. It should, however, be noted that three decades later the book is as relevant now as it was then and as it will be another three decades onward.

Dave Zirin writes that when Zinn was asked if dissent is divisive he said:

"Yes, dissent and protest are divisive, but in a good way, because they represent accurately the real divisions in society. Those divisions exist - the rich, the poor - whether there is dissent or not, but when there is no dissent, there is no change. The dissent has the possibility not of ending the division in society, but of changing the reality of the division. Changing the balance of power on behalf of the poor and the oppressed."

My friend and comrade Eugene of Pudgy Indian Blog 3 has written a personal and moving eulogy to Howard Zinn.

He writes:

Howard Zinn is like Ham. He saw the U.S. in its naked drunken destructiveness. He saw the people who have constantly struggled to change things who WERE NOT THE ALLEGED FOUNDING FATHERS. Howard saw the founding fathers in their nakedness.

Absolutely!

There can be no histories without contestation because like Zinn told his biographers Deb Ellis and Denis Mueller:"There is no such thing as impartial history."

May God/The Great Spirit rest his soul.

Onward!

Image Credit

Fair/Light Skin and Beauty

A few days ago I was in an office with a colleague of mine who was in the midst of a bantering session with two of the women who work there.

"Why did you not wish me a happy new year?," the woman sitting closest to me said to my colleague who was standing directly opposite to the second woman in the office.

"I was about to get to you," he replied with affected kindness in his voice as he walked over to her station.

"Oh I don't believe you. You like only the white ones," she shot back laughing loudly.

I looked closer at the women trying to remain as invisible as possible.

Both were black. The woman my colleague was initially chatting to was somewhat lighter but not by much.

Before I could finish my thoughts a third woman appeared at the door to the office.

My colleague turned to her and said with produced charm: "And how are you today?"

"You see I was right about you liking the white ones among us," the first lady said.

He was in a quandary. And by himself I might add, I don't roll like that ;)

The playful interaction reminded me of a time at Howard University when I asked a young black woman a question about my loan status by referring to a previous conversation I had with another woman at the same office.

"What was her name," she barked at me from behind a counter.

"I don't remember ever getting her name but she works here," I replied.

"Was she light-skinded or dark-skinded," she barked back without missing a beat.

"She is black," I said with annoyance as the woman rolled her eyes.

We were going nowhere and I limped out of that conversation.

The thing about being fair/light skinned is that it is a marker of beauty among people of color (sorry for the lame term but it is better than non-white).

In India they sell all kinds of cosmetics that claim to lighten the skin of women and men.

I remember an advert like this one below that infuriated the hell out of me:



I also remember the kind young man who sold me my veggies in Delhi. He commented that my skin, after a trip to the cold region of Kashmir, appeared so much lighter.

"You are handsome now and not dark," he said with a smile.

Muslimah Media Watch provides a link to an interesting article in Arab News entitled "Anything for fair skin, even SR30,000 placenta shot!"

The article says that Saudi women want fair/light skin and will do most anything to achieve this beauty standard.

The same is true for the Kimberley community I grew up in.

Fair/light skin and hair texture (straight over kinky) denotes beauty. Skin lighteners, or rather bleaches, are still commonly used even though laws restrict their use.

The quest to be white or to appear more than just a dark "Other" contains a minefield of contradictions that defies easy generalizations about racial identification among people of color.

The contradictions persist even after the colonial fact and often in the total absence of whites.

But perhaps therein lies the rub of the matter.

Inferiority is a socio-political and historical coding that exists/persists despite the presence/relativity of whiteness or white people.

That is what the banter in that office underlined. Black or brown beauty is open to contestation of the 'white kind' even where whiteness/whites are absolutely absent.

Now see this final advert by "Emami Skin Lightening" featuring Indian leading man Shahrukh Khan (an annoying ass and product 'ho in my opinion):



Makes my head hurt something fierce because we are still so preoccupied and enslaved by sexism, racism, casteism, or combinations/intersections thereof.

Onward!

A 'New' Forty-Eight

Longtime readers will know that very little luv is shown to motorcycles by Harley-Davidson on this blog.

I think the whole Harley-Davidson 'scene' and its faux counter-culture pretensions obscure some of the better bikes coming out of Milwaukee.

Below is what Harley-Davidson says is its new Forty-Eight. Those in the know will snicker at the notion that anything 'new' comes out of Harley-Davidson.

Most "Hogs" are just that, hogs. Heavy behemoths with huge ancient cubic inch motors that are nothing spectacular.

But, very few bike enthusiasts can totally ignore Harley-Davidson. Their bikes have improved, if even slowly, and if nothing else, they almost always look the part.

I like the 'new' Forty-Eight. It is nice to look at and the cut lines are low to the ground.

You can pick one of these up for less than $11k in the US. Here in the land of the perpetual rip-off this bike will post at least a 30% premium over the US price.

Still, this is one nice looking boney!

Read more here.

Image Credit

Donkey

Donkeys and an assortment of other feral animals are often found standing on the roads in the Northwest province and elsewhere in South Africa.

Thieves have stolen the wire fences just about everywhere and this allows animals to wander onto the roads with disastrous consequences most days.

Yesterday on my way back from a short trip into the countryside I came across a group of feral donkeys standing in the middle of the road.

I honked my horn and shouted out of the window and the group started to move slowly to the side of the road.

One donkey, however, was struggling to walk.

I looked down at its legs and noticed that it was shackled/cuffed with some crude contraption made of wire and pieces of hosepipe.

At about the same time a speeding car from the opposite direction barreled down the highway perilously close to the donkeys without slowing down.

I started to move on slowly thinking that there really was nothing I could do.

But, my conscience pressed me to stop and see what I could do to free the donkey.

I know close to nothing about donkeys except that I admire their tenacity and developed a fondness for them over time.

As I approached, the donkey struggled to get away from me. I followed trying my best to get closer to its front legs.

The donkey grew tired and stopped, but again, in the middle of the road.

I bent down and tried to undo the contraption but the wire was too strong for my bare hands.

I returned to the truck and grabbed a screwdriver and jack-handle from the truck. I needed a pliers or even a wire cutter.

The donkey had not moved and cars were flying by with curious looks my way.

My return caused the donkey to walk off the road into a field and I followed again until it grew too tired to move.

I started in on the contraption saying a prayer under my breath.

This was the first time I had ever been so close to a donkey.

It was an intense struggle made worse by my mechanical ineptitude but in about five or so minutes I pried off the shackles.

I noticed that the wire had cut into the legs of the donkey.

I also removed one piece of wire that had some kind of animal skin wrapped around it but failed to remove the same from the other hoof before the donkey broke free.

I am not worried about the wire that remains. It was lose enough not too cause damage to the leg/hoof area and hopefully will just fall off over time.

I watched the donkey run from me and noticed that one smaller donkey had remained close to our interaction all the time.

The two reunited and I walked back to the truck thanking God and cussing the fool responsible for the shackling.

I threw the contraption onto the back of the truck and watched the group as I drove off.

Onward!

Image Credit

Howard Zinn On Obama

I think people are dazzled by Obama's rhetoric, and that people ought to begin to understand that Obama is going to be a mediocre president--which means, in our time, a dangerous president--unless there is some national movement to push him in a better direction.

See "Obama at One: Little Surprising in Absence of Progressive Social Movement", January 21 (originally in The Nation).

And this from a man who cautioned folks to vote for the lesser of evils. Chomsky too.

They should have known that change cannot come from an establishment lackey. Disappointment is a meaningless gesture at this stage.

Zinn should also give up the notion that there is anything close to a "Progessive Social Movement" that can save Obama from himself.

Obama was elected by a mass of delusional voters who thought him prophetic and an improvement over George Bush.

By that measure, anyone would have been an improvement.

Even Curly hey?

Hey fellas nyuk nyuk nyuk ... woo woo woo ... you should have known.

Onward!

Zinn Credit
Curly Credit

Haiti Aftershock

Devastation: Women walk down a street in Port-au-Prince, Haiti, on Wednesday. A strong aftershock struck Haiti on Wednesday, creating panic among those in the capital after last week's destructive earthquake. (Gregory Bull, AP)

Picture and Caption Credit

Haiti

OVERWHELMED: Young Indian children hold candles at an inter-faith prayer service for victims of the earthquake in Haiti, at the Sacred Heart Cathedral in New Delhi, India. (Kevin Frayer, AP)

Picture and Caption Credit

Rude Mzansi

Being rude seems to be a national value captured in our collective post-apartheid identity.

At the very least, being rude is the default mode of interaction that marks most public interaction and it has nothing to do with hard times or the lingering hand of apartheid.

I can recount too many transactions with rude staff at grocery stores, government offices, gas stations, etc, that left my blood boiling.

What is it about our collective culture that makes us so rude? Are we suffering from post-apartheid stress disorder?

Whatever the contrived excuse may be, we are just not nice folk.

Service folk are close to the absolute worst offenders. It is a rarity to come across someone who greets and is pleasant at a check-out stand, for example.

Forget greeting. Almost no-one says thank you or even sorry for f*cking up a transaction or anything else.

Bad service made worse by rude manners is the norm it seems.

The absolute worst offenders are taxi drivers! This is a sub-species of rude neanderthals with no rivals.

A few days ago a taxi driver started screaming insults at me because he wanted me to go faster or get out of his way.

At a red light he was furious and aggressively animated while he hurled insults in my direction.

I lost my temper. It was a hot day. 100 degrees plus and I was on my last fuse.

I invited the f*ck to get out of his taxi. His passengers seemed shocked at the interaction and he less than ready to escalate the incident.

All I wanted was to beat the living hell out of a man who morphed into all the taxi drivers who have cut me off and stopped in front of me without signaling, and worse.

He stuck his hand out of the window, gave me the middle finger salute, and turned down an adjoining street.

I sat there fuming.

I wanted to follow him but a sliver or sanity pressed me to drive home where I worked in the garden till my anger subsided.

A couple of friends pointed out the obvious and cautioned me about escalating a road incident into a physical fight.

"You will get shot or knifed," one said. "One in five people in South Africa have HIV/AIDS and you want to get into a fight with strangers," another said disapprovingly.

I hear 'em but I also understand Elmer Fudd's anger now ;)

I know all about ignoring this kind of stuff and I usually do. But it does not make me any calmer to know what is the right response.

It helps though to just admit that we are not who we think we are.

We are a rude nation and more often than not, a drunk one too.

Violence and alcohol abuse is a toxic combination. Add rudeness to that and the formula for uncivil behavior is just about complete.

The only countries that are more violent than us are those who are at war.

Even then we have murder rates that equal and even exceed those in Iraq.

Still, we like to pretend to be this miracle nation founded on magnanimous gestures of reconciliation and forgiveness.

I can buy all that sh*t on a good day but I have not had one of those out there in a long while.

Onward!

Image Credit

Teddy Pendergrass: "This One's For You"

I paused for more than a moment last Wednesday (January 13) when I read a text message that said Teddy Pendergrass had passed.

The message came from Erica in South Carolina who lives close to Kingstree where Pendergrass was born in 1952.

TP or just Teddy as he was popularly known defined the love and lust of my generation. His baritone voice grabbed deep and held onto emotions very few artists can conjure with such heartfelt meaning.

In a cupboard somewhere in my mom's house sits my pristine collection of his vinyl LPs from the 80s.

Each LP reminds me of something and someone. One in particular was a gift from someone who will forever remain an "inspiration" to me. (See this beautiful version too).


Most folks probably remember this cut above when Teddy was with Harold Melvin and The Blue Notes.

I never got to see Teddy live. Wish I had.

Still, he said "Life is a song worth singing" and I believe that in his short 59 years many a life started to sing and many more will do so as his music lives down here forever.

The song immediately below has special meaning to me. It was one of the last cuts Natasha, my sister, had cued up to listen to before she passed 15 years ago.

"This One's For You" ... both of you!



This final cut is one of my absolute favorites. Philosophical in a plain sort of way it tells of a journey before it has ended.

Written by Michael Masser and Cynthia Weil it appeared on TP's 1984 LP entitled "Love Language" and is simply entitled "In My Time".

Rest in peace TP.

Onward!

Hello Again

My last post here was on December 3, 2009. The next day I left for what I thought was going to be a productive summer break.

Instead I ended up spending my break overseeing the painting and repair of my mom's house in Kimberley.

I guess in a sense it was productive but not in terms that speak to my academic work.

The word 'academic' may be a little too strong since my modest intention was to write two Study Guides over the month or more that I would be away.

For those reading outside of South Africa the concept of a Study Guide at the college/university level may need a little 'splaining.

In fact I am still confused that lecturers are expected to produce Study Guides for the classes they teach.

What it all amounts to as a colleague of mine who also taught in the US says,"is nothing short of f*cking plagiarism."

Instructors merely copy material from text books and write inane little summaries that describe intended "outcomes" for the material covered.

The fixation on "outcomes" in South Africa is paradoxical, particularly in higher education.

I say paradoxical because the fixation has little to do with learning and everything to do with big brother administration and academic bookkeeping.

Literally dozens upon dozens of paragraphs are devoted to stating the obvious.

You will find "outcomes" descriptions that explain it so: "At the end of this section the learner (f*ck I hate that term) will be able to discuss important issues pertaining to course objectives.

Or, "the learner will be able to discuss (insert number) issues that pertain to foreign policy."

Huh?

And so it goes.

Once a Study Guide is completed it is handed to a group of otherwise unemployable English (or Linguistics) majors who contain themselves in a department called Academic Development.

Instead of directly counting beans for academic profit they count words so that the bean counters can find a way to chart productivity.

These academic developers check Study Guides for "outcomes coherence" while making sure that the learners are being "guided correctly".

I have a theory about the origins of Study Guides. I also have a theory about English and/or Linguistics majors who are employed in academic development but I'll set it aside for now ;)

It occurred to me that during the apartheid years textbooks from outside of South Africa were not freely available because of a general academic boycott and cost factors.

So folks just copied pages from available textbooks and assembled them into what is now supposedly Study Guides.

The practice continues even though the academic boycott is over. What remains is that textbooks are very expensive.

Books on the whole are too expensive in South Africa. A major reason for this being that the government imposes huge taxes on books.

So much for the literate society. I guess the cost of books explains why so many folks listen to the likes of Julius Malema.

AnyHowze, I intended this post as a Hello I am Back on the Blog spiel.

But, if I am going to secure a promotion of any sort this year I will have to copy a few textbooks and paste together a Study Guide or two.

I feel dumber by the day.

Peace and good new year blessings to youze.

Onward! 2010