Showing posts with label people. Show all posts
Showing posts with label people. Show all posts

Saturday, November 01, 2025

Yes, I'm taking someone else's pain and making it about me in a passive aggressive way, but it's been a while.

Just once, after giving someone physical comfort, and I don't mean right after, but days or even a couple of weeks later, I'd like for a person to come to me and say, "Thank you for that hug and holding me while I was upset. I understand that you don't like touching or being touched by people and the fact that you did it for me while it caused you discomfort shows that you are not the cold, unfeeling person that you can appear to be. Thank you."

It doesn't have to be those exact words, but it would be nice to have it acknowledged that while I was giving a person the physical comfort they desired I was physically, emotionally, and mentally uncomfortable because of the touching. It had nothing to do with the sniffling or the awkward way they reached out for me. The touching.

Wednesday, May 28, 2025

It's Gonna Happen, Sorry

 Dear Kid From the Autism Forum Who Doesn't Like Being Touched,

As someone like you, someone who hates being touched by people, but is several years older than you, it's my unfortunate duty to tell you that there is nothing you can do about it. People will touch you, on purpose and accident, for the rest of your life.

Accidental touches will happen. The only way that I know how to avoid these kinds of touches is to never go out. I haven't yet figured out how to do this. I have to go to work and go grocery shopping and I like to see the occasional motion picture and the picture house. I hope you understand that accidents happen and there's nothing you can do about it.

Unfortunately, on purpose touching by others will continue to happen, too, and there's nothing you can do about it because most people don't understand and touching COMFORTS them. They don't get a pain in their stomach when a hand is rested on their shoulder. They don't get an ache and prickles that can last for hours in the place where the hand was rested. For them the touching feels good.

When I was a kid, probably around your age, I got up to courage to tell my extended family that I didn't like being touched and asked them not to hug me anymore. For the months orI was ambushed with hugs by the people who were supposed to love me and care about my feelings the most. They thought it was hilarious. When I confronted them directly, they pretty much insisted I lied about not liking to be touched. Then, as I stood dumbfounded, I'd get hugged again. Eventually, because I stopped reacting, they stopped all the extra hugging and touching and went back to the normal amount. It was more than I wanted, but better.

A lot of people on the forum suggested that you tell a teacher or the principal. I don't think that would help.

Have you, or a friend, ever told a teacher that you were being bullied? And then the teacher talks to the bully and tells the bully that you, or your friend, told them that you were being bullied by the bully? And then the bullying gets worse? Yeah. What's going to happen if the teacher tells your class that you don't like being touched is that you're going to get touched more and, as long as it doesn't get violent, there's nothing that the teacher can do except remind the class that you don't like being touched. That doesn't help.

Maybe telling a teacher could help is the teacher is touchy-feely or has the class do massage circles. Maybe they'll stop calling for massage circles or allow you to sit out without drawing extra attention to it. Maybe.

Friends are an interesting case if you tell them. Some will treat it as a joke and will touch you more for a while. Some will understand and do their best not to touch you and if they do they will apologize. However, this will only last for a month or two at most and then they'll forget and the casual touching will start again.

And it doesn't stop once you get out of school either.

I have a coworker. I've worked with her for years. She's very kind person, with some horrible politics, but she's kind. She's also a toucher. As she moves past me, she'll put her hand on my back. When she comes up behind me to ask me a question while I'm sitting at my desk or checking my mailbox, her hand is on my shoulder. Every time.

I've told her that I don't like being touched, more than once, and she sort of stops for a while. But the touching comes back because, as she's told me, to her touching is REASSURING and COMFORTING. She's heard me when I say I don't like being touched, but I don't think she really believes me and I know she doesn't understand.

The one thing I haven't tried is just freaking out on people. I don't like making people uncomfortable. I hold in my desire to to let out a big reaction until I'm alone and let it out then. Maybe freaking out on them when they touch you is the answer. Maybe it'll get the message across and people will stop touching you. Maybe it'll get you sent to the principal's office in a conference with your parents. Who knows?

Who knows?

I know it's not the answer you expected and I'm sure it's not the answer you wanted, but it's my experience.

Good luck and be well.

ticknart

Monday, September 11, 2017

Companionable Coworkers

I've spent way too much time in fast food places over the past week and I noticed something, something that I should have remembered.

Today, both of the places I went to were empty inside, except for me. Plenty of people in the drive-thru, though. And I could hear the teasing and mockery and genuine comradity (pardon the spelling). That sense of a team that functions well together and like working together.

I found myself missing that.

At my "grown-up" job, we may use teamwork, but we don't work as a team together. Everyone does their part and we hope all the parts fit together in the end.

Maybe that's why so many people there seem so desparet to connect to others.

Sunday, June 26, 2011

I don't think Facebook is a good fit.

So, Facebook. Yeah.

Since I rejoined a few months ago I have had over twenty "friend" requests from people. I have neither confirmed nor denied any of the requests. They just sit there, waiting for a decision. I need to decide exactly what kind of a dickhead I am. Am I the kind of dickhead who just denies the "friending" of everyone who I don't want as a "friend" (which includes grandparents, aunts, uncles, people from high school, alternates Facebook accounts of people, people who know people I know, cousins, old teachers, etc.) or do I "friend" everyone then block the updates from those I don't really know or care about, in a personal sense.

One person who I haven't added wrote me to ask if it's okay that he wanted to be my "friend" on Facebook because I sort of reacted poorly when he wanted to "friend" me on MySpace. I told him the truth, that for now my only "friends" on Facebook are my brothers, their significant others, and my mother.

Another person wrote, "Burn [ticknart] Burn..." after I didn't "friend" him. I wrote back, "Please, explain Facebook etiquette to me." He responded, "It's no big deal. I was just curious to see how you were doing. If you are using FB only for close friends, family, or any other group of people of which I am not a part, I'll understand perfectly. After all, I have most of the 'friends' on my list blocked."

Which leads to the second kind of dickhead, the one who blocks their "friends." I get the idea behind it. Who cares if someone whacked a bush and found a giant cherry? I don't, but even if I block people, they can still see everything that I put up there, if they want. And that disturbs me.

Do you suppose Facebook would allow levels for "friends" so you can control the content you allow people to see? I doubt it, but I'd be more likely to just "friend" everyone if I could.

Another thing about Facebook that disturbs me is how you lose control over your privacy.

I am now tagged in two photos. One shows me in profile, I think, and the other is my knee. I didn't ask to be tagged in these. The person who posted them put my name in. I suppose I could ask for the tags to be removed, but odds are good that someone else would see at least one of them and tag me again.

I think it's stupid, but it's a choice when my aunt decided to get on her phone everywhere and update where she was at every moment during my brother's wedding. She chose to give up that bit of privacy. When you're tagged by people in a photo, you have no choice.

That makes me uncomfortable.

Friday, June 24, 2011

Blood From a Rock

In my continuing effort to prove how narcissistic and selfish I am:

My favorite thing about my vacation is that I have now fulfilled the quota of weddings that I am required to attend. Both of my brothers are married. I have no sisters. There are only cousins and (quite probably) an uncle left for weddings and while the outside guilt may come pouring in if I don't attend any of those, especially if they're local, I won't feel guilty. If the heartbreak happens and either of my brothers feels the need to get remarried in the future, I do not think I have to attend. I was there the first time, the second will depend on how well I've converted into a hermit.

Some may be wondering (And I feel confident writing that because for an unknown reason I have 36 "followers" according to my Blogger dashboard. I only recognize like four of the names and expect that most of the rest are just advertisers who expect me to "follow" them (HA!), but that leaves a few of you out there who hahttp://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gifve not been reading this here blog for even a healthy portion of its seven year eight month and eightish day existence.), what about my wedding. Well, I still don't plan to ever have a wedding. I do not ever expect to meet someone and fall in love or a comfort zone with and then get married. I am not looking and if something like that comes along I'm sure I'll miss it. If I don't miss it, the fine. There are lots of possibilities. Just know that I am not keeping an open mind when it comes to myself and romance.

My great uncle asked my mom if the next of her boy's weddings could be closer to home so he wouldn't have to drive so far. (He's oldish.) When I heard that I wanted to go and reassure him that there wouldn't be another one, so he didn't have to worry. I didn't, though, I'm tired of explaining things like that to people who know me.

I keep getting it from this one woman at work. She said that she can't believe that I'm not taken. I asked why it's a surprise. She said that I'm so nice, some nice girl should have snagged me by now. I said that I've never really looked for anything like that. She suggested that she has some women I could meet, like her niece or cousin or something. Inside I was horrified because, as a one who judges others and expects to be judged in return, she a bit too much crazy Christan and too white trashy and this women she thinks would be good for me lives with her. Thanks, no. She asked me why not and I told that that even though I'm not the kind of person who plays around, I like just being with myself I don't need or want someone else to think about and worry about. Although that was only part of the answer, she seemed satisfied with it, but she still thinks that someone should snag me soon. With I sigh I was happy to leave that conversation.

I write all of that to tell this:

The brother who got married almost two years ago and his wife came down from Oregon and, of course, my niece was with them. She's just about eight months old and the brother and Sister in Law are really good about sharing her and she likes to be held. Now, I'm not the sort of person who asks to hold a baby. I do enjoy holding them, but I'm never going to ask. I will offer to hold the child if the parent seems to need a hand and I will gladly accept the child if offered, but I will not directly ask to hold it and I will never, ever, just snag it from someone's arms. I think out of everyone at the house for the week and a half I held the baby the least because of the way I am.

Part of it, I think is because I haven't really imagined myself ever as a father since early in high school. (Huh, that's half my life ago.) I am not a childfree person. I just don't expect to have kids. I have issues and I know I have issues and at this moment, and for half my life, I haven't wanted my problems to hurt a kid in any way.

There was a moment during the vacation, though...

The niece was handed off to me. She didn't squirm. She just rolled over into my shoulder, put one arm around my neck, and snuggled in. Everything in me seemed to stop working. If I had a heart it would have melted. And for those few seconds she snuggled, I thought that maybe having a kid wouldn't be such a bad thing.

The thought didn't last though, but it's a nice memory

Thursday, October 21, 2010

This Little Bugger

It's me, writing from work. I don't, however, remember the e-mail address to my blog, so this is going to be (has been?) e-mailed to my regular Gmail and then posted. What a convoluted way to do things.

Anyway, I'm really not a fan of my job.

I was talking to my uncle yesterday, one of the two who work here as officers, and told him that the thing that made working her depressing wasn't the inmates, but the staff that I work with. He told me that as long as he's worked as an officer the joke has always been that it's the staff that's crazy because we choose to come to prison. Doesn't matter that we get to leave after eight, or so, hours and have weekends off. We choose to be here.

Which isn't to say that all the people I work with are horrible, some aren't. At least one is pretty great. Many want too much from me because they don't want to deal with their supervisors, but I keep pointing them in that direction anyway.

The toughest part of my job, so far, is that I have to depend on people to do what they say they're going to do. I call them and set up for them to fill a shift. They tell me yes or no. If it's yes then I put them on the schedule and they are supposed to come in for that shift or call, in a timely manner, and say they can't make it. If they don't show I'm not quite blamed for it, but I hear about it and there are, often, subtle hint in voices that it's partially my fault. As if I should have known whether these people are dependable. I'll be finished with my fourth week on Friday, how can I know if these people are dependable or not?

The most annoying part of my job is the equipment. I have a chair that won't always stay up when I sit on it, but it stays up enough to give me hope so I keep raising it and it keeps sinking. I don't have a stapler or tape dispenser or drawers. The widescreen monitor I've been supplied with takes up nearly half the width of desk space and feels too close to my eyes.

And then there's my boss, which I really shouldn't get into. It makes me upset just dancing around the subject in my brain.

Well, that it from me at 1:30. Maybe more when I get to a computer at my parents' house and finally post the bugger.

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

That Lunch

My brother requested knowledge about that last (and technically first) lunch I had with my co-workers in the North Bay. Here goes:

My normal lunch back then was at 11:30, but the ladies didn't think they could get out of the office until noon, so I had to wait and explain to the other employees, without actually explaining anything, why I hadn't left for lunch. Me and three others was all I wanted. When asked, I dodged the issue and vaguely suggested that I had to do something but it couldn't be done before noon. Got some looks, but no one asked me anything else.

Noon finally rolled around and I watched the pair of court reporters head out. I waited a little before getting up myself, didn't want to make it look like I was heading out with them to keep some of the others from joining in on their own. The PJ's secretary, who invited me to the small lunch, joined me and we walked out together. One staff member watched us. I'm pretty sure she knew what was up. I didn't care for her anyway and the other people I was going out with either liked her less than I did or pretty much outright hated her. (At lunch, on in particular seem happy that the not-so-great woman knew she wasn't invited.)

As we stepped out the front door of the office I was informed that three more people had been invited to lunch, the three other clerk guys, and asked if it was okay with me. A large part of me wanted to bolt, but I said it was okay.

At lunch, he guys had some beer and sandwiches. The ladies had wine and two had a salad and one had a sandwich. I had iced tea and a sandwich and these spectacular homemade potato chips the brewery makes, really the only reason to eat there if you're not getting beer. The chat was idle and mostly about work and what a pain in the ass it was. Some bitching was made about the woman no one likes. (I made a comment that got that woman in some trouble the next day, which was my last day there.)

When the check came, I pulled out my wallet just like everyone else and made sure to be told that my lunch was on them. Then I admitted I only pulled my wallet out to make sure that they insisted I didn't have to pay. I didn't want to seem like I just expected a free lunch from them.

Back at work, no one made a comment about lunch and how we all came back in as a group.

In general, the lunch was painless. I didn't say much, mostly listened. The chips were wonderful, the sandwich just okay. The guys liked their beers, where were very pale, and that gals like their wine, whites with a rosy hue.

Questions?

Thursday, May 06, 2010

Found:

A lost paper full of madness. (Click to make it bigger. You really want to click to make it bigger, trust me.)


If yours, please come back and explain the highlighting of the "a"s in the last paragraph and what the drawing is suppose to be.

Thursday, April 22, 2010

Odds

You know, with all the obsession about vampires out there, has anyone figured out how they defecate? Do they pee? Do they poo? Are they like birds and both kinds of waste at once?

No system is perfectly closed, so there has to be some kind of waste and they're going to have to get rid of it some how. I don't care if vampires have a piece of a demon soul in them, they still have to get rid of the unusable parts.

I've really like the weather in Northern California the past couple of months. We've gotten a storm every 6-10 days with days in between that are sunny or have patchy clouds. It's been nice to have a real variety in weather. I hope it stays this way the rest of the year.

If this is how climate change is going to effect my life, I'm all for it.

I know the stuff is just fan fiction, but is it wrong to get upset inside when I read a story where the author doesn't seem to know the word "than" exists (he only ever writes "then" to mean both "then" and "than") and then read a review praising the author's writing ability as the one of the best out there and even complimenting the grammar as being "spot on"?

Seriously, I don't understand. People out there will pick on writers mixing up "its" with "it's" or "there" with "their" and "they're" or "to" with "two" and "too," but do they not even see the "then"s replacing the "than"s? Maybe they just don't care, but if that's true, why do they pick on other grammatical errors?

I suppose, on the plus side, the author constantly makes this mistake. Consistency is a good thing, right?

For $5 movie Tuesday I went and saw Diary of a Wimpy Kid.

I had to go see it. I like the books: they make me laugh. I liked the movie: it made me laugh.

The director and writers (two of whom were Gabe Sachs and Jeff Judah, which surprised me and made me happy) keep the potty jokes to a minimum and the big one, that I remember, was both well earned and hilarious. (Not that I'm against potty jokes. (Hell I opened this post with a potty joke.) It's that I hate that so many writers and directors out there think it's the only sort of humor that kids like and/or get. Kids ain't that dumb.) The "Total Eclipse Of The Heart" scene was worth the admission price alone, well for me and the mom that brought her son to see it, at least. Also, they animate the art from the book and it's gorgeous.

I just went and checked out the Wikipedia page for the movie and saw the section on the reviews. Rotten Tomatoes says, "Unlike its bestselling source material, Diary of a Wimpy Kid fails to place a likable protagonist at the center of its middle-school humor – and its underlying message is drowned out as a result." Funny thing is, Greg's a jerk in the books, too, it's part of the charm. I found him to be just as likable in the movie as he is in the book. Maybe seeing a real little kid doing the things a cartoon little kid did, not that he does anything horrible.

Bah, I don't need to defend the movie and I don't have to explain myself, but I enjoyed it.

The CDs I bought with the Amazon gift certificates(? Letters? Emails? They're not cards, so what are they exactly?) I got for my birthday got here yesterday. The one I'm most excited about is the cast recording of "Sunday in the Park with George."

Listened to it twice last night.

If only... Right?

Tuesday, February 09, 2010

What's in a name? Returns again.

Sometimes I see a name, here at work, that's just screams at me. Today's: Enrique Goldbaum.

There's probably no story behind the name other than his parents like the name Enrique, but still...

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

An Annoyance

Not pointing any fingers or, hopefully, stepping on anyone's toes, but am I the only one who's bothered when blogger write anniversary posts?

I am, aren't I.

Everyone else out there in the blogohedron loves anniversary posts, don't they. They love being reminded that it's once again that time of year to write to one of the blogs they skim on a semi-daily basis and offer their heartfelt congratulation to a person who's been able to write on a semi-daily basis on the interporns.

I may think differently if it was just a sentence at the end of that day's post saying, "O, BTW, 2-day B mi blogs anniversary. cool." It never is, though. It's always the whole point of the post from the title to the end.

Yuck.

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

What's in a Name? People Edition

There's a doctor who sends many medical reports to my work. His last name is Guinney.

I just can't keep myself from wondering about his ancestry.

Monday, November 09, 2009

Reach for the Stars, Until You Pass Out From Lack Of Atmosphere and Tumble Back to Earth

Gettin' quite a spike in traffic thanks to this post and this link.

It won't last, but it's nice seeing lots of visitors on my Sitemeter stats.

Thanks for stopping by! I'll miss your numbers when you stop visitin'.

Also, favorite Google search, in recent days, that turned up my blog. HA!

Thursday, May 21, 2009

"How are you?"

I got the question, "How are you?" from an old friend who I haven't corresponded with in quite a while.

When I went to reply, I paused. A long pause. The thought was, how much do I write?

Do I spill everything on this person? (A person who I never really spilled anything on before.) Do I just say I'm "meh" and leave it at that? If I aim for the middle, which side should I favor more?

Eventually, I wrote. I kept it light. Sure, I said I'm terrified of my immediate future, but even that was kept more jokey than serious.

What's a person supposed to do? A letter out of no where (I was reminded of this fun thing we did years ago, wasn't that a blast?) isn't the proper place to throw hardcore feelings and painful thoughts. The "How are you?" is more an I-hope-you're-doing-pretty-well,-but-if-your-not-I'd-rather-you-pretended-because,-really,-I-just-wanted-to-say-a-quick-hello-and-remember-a-bit-of-fun-and-it's-polite-to-also-ask-how-your-doing-at-the-same-time, isn't it?

Or maybe it's not. Maybe it's just me trying to work out my frustration on how fucking vague that question is. "How are you?" ranges from the toe you stubbed on the door while walking to the bathroom at 2AM to the promotion you got at work to the soggy fries you had at lunch to the exquisite, intense, painful, joyful release of an orgasm you had during sex to the mediocre TV you watched, and beyond. "How are you?" envelopes your life, but, in my experience, it never wants more than a three word response, "I'm doing fine." and that's just not really an answer.

"How are you?" has become a meaningless question and it only expects meaningless answers.

Oh, and if the friend who wrote me that letter reads this (HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH! *ahem* HA!), it's not about you. I promise. It's about what I think of all of us.

Monday, June 30, 2008

Fantastical Lives

We greeted each other in the elevator as I stepped in and I turned to face the door.

"What's that you’re reading?" she asked.

"Pardon?" I said, turning down myPod.

"Your book," she pointed toward it, "what is it?"

"Oh," I said as I felt my face flush. "It's called The Legend of Holly Claus."

She frowned.

"It's sort of a kids' book," I said. "I like kids' books. Sometimes they’re just what I need."

"Uh huh," she said.

I turned back to the door.

"I'm reading this book, right now," she said. "It's very realistic and sort of about..." she mumbled and I didn't understand what she said. "It has all these great characters in it."

I nodded.

"I really like it when it's like that. When there are characters in the book that I recognize. I like it when I see people I know in the book I'm reading."

I thought, yeah, it was fun reading a 'realistic' book with familiar people in it, but that it was also great recognizing people you know or have seen in books that are full of the fantastic. To see your brother lead a band of rogues against a dragon or to watch as your cousin pilots her ship into a planet's atmosphere is often more amazing than reading about them go to a bar and get drunk or visit a retirement community. Why limit those you know to the mundane when you can find them doing amazing things that aren't possible? Don't they deserve to have fantastical lives?

"Sure," I said, "I like that, too."

The elevator dinged and we both got off. She turned to the right and I walked straight ahead.

Monday, March 10, 2008

Daylight Savings

One of the most common complaints I've heard today, among coworkers, about the time change this weekend is that people are now waking up when it's still dark outside.

I don't get it. Why is waking up before the sun rises a bad thing?

We do it for months anyway, why does it matter?

It's not the lack of light that makes you more tired the mornings after time change, but is that what they're thinking?

I just don't understand.

Monday, December 17, 2007

Understanding? 2: Explaining

Remember the post I wrote with that article about changes in immigration policy in Denmark based off of the Muslim population?

Well, over the weekend, my Xanga repost got a reply, which I post in its entirety, unedited:
Your analysis obviously only depends on your feelings and not whether the article states defendible facts.

Your first response should have been check the facts of the article and having done that to analyse the facts. Only then can you decide whether the article is manipultive.

Look back in history and you will note the rise of many hateful and murderous totalitarian regimes. The first observes to warn the world of the potential horrors these regimes would visit on our world were labelled alarmist by people who where too lazy to check facts and prefered instead to slander the authors of the articles.

Having lived for extended periods in 4 Muslim countires and spent considerable time in a fifth, I can confirm simialr details as those noted in the article, Salute the Danish Flag - it's a Symbol of Western Freedom.

May I recount just one story for you? A friend of mine in the UAE awoke one morning to find the head of his 17 year old friend in the residential compound. His crime had been to question Islam as a result of a conversation my friend had had with him. His relatives, having beheaded him, had thrown the lad's head over the wall during the night.

Are all Muslims terrorists. Of course not. By stating one set of facts I am not stting anything more than one set of facts. Can I tell stories of great kindness I have seen displayed by Muslilms? Yes, many such stories. But I would have to say on balance that I cannot recall any of my friends finding the head of one of their friends in their garden except in the UAE. I do not know of any other culture that practises female circumcision other than Islamic ones. I do not know of any workers so poorly treated as those in the Gulf or Saudi, except perhaps in China or some other place you wouldn't want to work.

Please attempt next time to temper your views with facts before you allow your feelings to determine your response. If this challenge offends you then...go back and check the data before you reply. Then we can have a meaningful discussion.

Posted 12/15/2007 2:11 PM by Phillip Adams
He's not a regular Xanga user, so I couldn't check out his blog or find his opinions on other subject. I did learn, however, that his signal thing came Australia, so I assumed that he's from there.

I replied, unedited:
Phillip Adams -- I still think that the article in question is manipulative toward getting people to hating/fearing all Muslims while disguising it as an article about immigration policy. And that's what galls me. I don't like reading what I see as a manipulative piece geared toward hate that has been written as if it were an informational piece.

As I wrote earlier, a true article about immigration would have balanced itself by having information about non-Muslims immigrant groups and the problems they may, or may not, be having with integrating into the Danish culture and how the new laws (If there are new laws, since I did not go and check facts about them, that was not the intent of my post.) will effect EVERYONE who wants to immigrate to Denmark or has already immigrated there. No nation in Europe has the balls to ban just one group of people from moving into their country. (Unless they do it the sneaky way, like the US did in the late 19th early 20th centuries when they set policy to keep Italian and Irish immigrants out by making the legal numbers of immigrants allowed in be based on past numbers.) Therefore, any story about the change in immigration policy should be about all potential and existing immigrant groups, not just one very specific group.

(Pardon me if I repeated myself a few times in that last paragraph, but I thought it was necessary to get across that the purpose of my original post was not to defend the horrible things some people do or even to attack the woman who wrote this article, it was about me pointing out logical flaws and the lack of critical thinking among some people and how it frustrates me.)

As for the stuff about groups not integrating, it seems to me that every group that immigrates to the US has a tough time integrating and we, Americans, always have a problem with it. The Chinese with their braids and flat hats in the mid-19th century. Irish and Italians at the end of the 19th and the beginning of the 20th centuries with their Catholicism. Puerto Ricans in the 50s with their dark skin and Spanish. Vietnamese and Cambodian and other South Asian immigrants in the 70s and 80s with their slanted eyes and strange food. Russian and Ukrainian and other former Soviet Bloc immigrants in the 90s and 00s. And the Mexican and other people from Central American nations for decades. All new immigrants have a hard time integrating. At the best, when the groups that look like we do, they take only one or two generations to start to integrate with the culture. If the groups don't look like the average American (Which, lets face it, tends to be thought of as F*R*I*E*N*D*S creamy white.) they take longer because it's easier to feel like an outsider and hold on to the "old country" culture.

In the USA, all of these groups have also been accused of consuming the largest, or a large, portion of social services. Is it true? I don't know, I didn't, and haven't, looked up statistics. It sure is easy for it to feel true, though. It's a lot easier to point that person with dark skin or slanted eyes or a strange accent using government medical care or collecting food stamps or asking for workers' comp, isn't it?

How long have large quantities of Muslims been immigrating to "western" (AKA white) nations to live there, not just work? Fifteen or twenty years? So that's, what, like one generation born into that new culture? Time is what's needed for the integration to take place; until enough time has passed there will always be problems with shift from old to new. Crime goes up and hatred is spread. It's stupid and pointless and harmful to all those who want to just live their lives, but it has happened before and it's going to happen over and over again.

(Of course, being from Australia, there's never been a problem with the Aboriginal culture integrating into the European based culture, has there.)

The story you tell about what happened in the United Arab Emmirants is horrendous and I don't want you, or anyone else, to think that I would ever defend people for something like that; people should never be punished for asking questions, especially hard questions. I hate the thought that anyone anywhere could practice something like female genital mutilation. I can not and will not defend people who rape or mutilate or commit murder. Those people should be punished, no matter the color of that person's skin, the slant of that person's eyes, or the way that person prays. Terrible things are being done by some Muslims, I'd have to be insane to not see that, but I am not going to let those few scare me into hating everyone who follows the teachings and writings found in the Qur'an. If I do that, then the nasty people really have won.

Also from your story, I think I need to remind you that the UAE isn't Denmark. One has a, basically, hereditary "presidency" and was founded based on its interpretations of Islamic law and is still struggling with having elections. The other was a Christian monarchy that developed into a constitutional monarchy with a republic style parliament elected by popular vote by the people. I think, in a political context, comparing the UAE and Denmark is like comparing apples to spark plugs. Maybe one day it'll be more like comparing the apples to oranges or Fujis to Granny Smiths, but not until the UAE really moves toward true elections or Denmark's system crashes.

I won't pretend to be perfect or even necessarily right, Mr. Adams. I'm not a world traveler. I don't know what conditions are like in the Middle East, other than what I see on TV or read online or hear on the radio. I just want to believe that, for the most part, people are good and that they want peace and safety and love. (Yes, I know that's naive.)

As for "temper[ing my] views with facts before [I] allow [my] feelings to determine [my] response," I was practicing New Criticism, where a person uses the text as the source and finds the meaning (or meanings) by using what was and wasn't written in the actual text. That's why, in my original entry, I didn't get into the history of Denmark or go online to find sources about the crime rates of other immigrant groups in Denmark or even find out if the policy changes actually exist.

Being challenged does not offend me. If everyone out there thought and felt as I did, this would be a dull world. My thoughts and feelings should be challenged because I like to understand why I think and feel the way I do so I can better understand myself and my (basically) insignificant place in the world.

And I don't know what sort of data you wanted me to check before responding, since my only sources, originally, were the article and the e-mails between me and my co-worker and nothing else.

I'm going to use you're comment and my response as a blog post, just to let you know.
I still don't know if my response was good, as in well written or well argued, but I do think that the intent of the original post was more about how critical thinking is, or isn't, used out there when people read things meant to play on people's fears, and not about whether Denmark's new policies may be good or some Muslims have done and continue to do horrible things. (I also think that there are some Christians and Hindus and Buddhists and Taoists who use their religions to justify doing horrible things, too.)

Of course, talking about anything that mentions religion is like talking about abortion, people can rarely see beyond their gut reaction, even me.

Thursday, December 06, 2007

Understanding?

I got this e-mail this morning from a co-worker, it's title is "Salute the Danish Flag (Worth Reading)":

Very interesting - worth the reading.

An interesting article on Islamic immigration and the problems created.

Salute the Danish Flag - it's a Symbol of Western Freedom
By Susan MacAllenIn 1978-9 I was living and studying in Denmark.

But in 1978 - even in Copenhagen, one didn't see Muslim immigrants. The Danish population embraced visitors, celebrated the exotic, went out of its way to protect each of its citizens.

It was proud of its new brand of socialist liberalism - one in development since the conservatives had lost power in 1929 - a system where no worker had to struggle to survive, where one ultimately could count upon the state as in, perhaps, no other western nation at the time. The rest of Europe saw the Scandinavians as free-thinking, progressive and infinitely generous in their welfare policies. Denmark boasted low crime rates, devotion to the environment, a superior educational system and a history of humanitarianism.

Denmark was also most generous in its immigration policies – it offered the best welcome in Europe to the new immigrant: generous welfare payments from first arrival plus additional perks in transportation, housing and education. It was determined to set a world example for inclusiveness and multiculturalism. How could it have predicted that one day in 2005 a series of political cartoons in a newspaper would spark violence that would leave dozens dead in the streets - all because its commitment to multiculturalism would come back to bite?

By the 1990's the growing urban Muslim population was obvious – and its unwillingness to integrate into Danish society was obvious. Years of immigrants had settled into Muslim-exclusive enclaves. As the Muslim leadership became more vocal about what they considered the decadence of Denmark's liberal way of life, the Danes - once so welcoming - began to feel slighted. Many Danes had begun to see Islam as incompatible with their long-standing values: belief in personal liberty and free speech, in equality for women, in tolerance for other ethnic groups, and a deep pride in Danish heritage and history.

The New York Post in 2002 ran an article by Daniel Pipes and Lars Hedegaard, in which they forecasted accurately that the growing immigrant problem in Denmark would explode. In the article they reported:

"Muslim immigrants constitute 5 percent of the population but consume upwards of 40 percent of the welfare spending."

"Muslims are only 4 percent of Denmark's 5.4 million people but make up a majority of the country's convicted rapists, an especially combustible issue given that practically all the female victims are non-Muslim. Similar, if lesser, disproportions are found in other crimes."

"Over time, as Muslim immigrants increase in numbers, they wish less to mix with the indigenous population. A recent survey finds that only 5 percent of young Muslim immigrants would readily marry a Dane."

"Forced marriages - promising a newborn daughter in Denmark to a male cousin in the home country, then compelling her to marry him, sometimes on pain of death - are one problem."

"Muslim leaders openly declare their goal of introducing Islamic law once Denmark's Muslim population grows large enough – a not-that-remote prospect. If present trends persist, one sociologist estimates, every third inhabitant of Denmark in 40 years will be Muslim."

It is easy to understand why a growing number of Danes would feel that Muslim immigrants show little respect for Danish values and laws. An example is the phenomenon common to other European countries and the U.S.: some Muslims in Denmark who opted to leave the Muslim faith have been murdered in the name of I slam, while others hide in fear for their lives.

Jews are also threatened and harassed openly by Muslim leaders in Denmark, a country where once Christian citizens worked to smuggle out nearly all of their 7,000 Jews by night to Sweden – before the Nazis could invade. I think of my Danish friend Elsa - who as a teenager had dreaded crossing the street to the bakery every morning under the eyes of occupying Nazi soldiers - and I wonder what she would say today.

In 2001, Denmark elected the most conservative government in some 70 years - one that had some decidedly non-generous ideas about liberal unfettered immigration. Today Denmark has the strictest immigration policies in Europe. ( Its effort to protect itself has been met with accusations of "racism" by liberal media across Europe - even as other governments struggle to right the social problems wrought by years of too-lax immigration.) If you wish to become Danish, you must attend three years of language classes. You must pass a test on Denmark's history, culture, and a Danish language test . You must live in Denmark for 7 years before applying for citizenship. You must demonstrate an intent to work, and have a job waiting. If you wish to bring a spouse into Denmark, you must both be over 24 years of age, and you won't find it so easy anymore to move your friends and family to Denmark with you. You will not be allowed to build a mosque in Copenhagen. Although your children have a choice of some 30 Arabic culture and language schools in Denmark, they will be strongly encouraged to assimilate to Danish society in ways that past immigrants weren't.

In 2006, the Danish minister for employment, Claus Hjort Frederiksen, spoke publicly of the burden of Muslim immigrants on the Danish welfare system, and it was horrifying: the government's welfare committee had calculated that if immigration from Third World countries were blocked, 75 percent of the cuts needed to sustain the huge welfare system in coming decades would be unnecessary. In other words, the welfare system as it existed was being exploited by immigrants to the point of eventually bankrupting the government. "We are simply forced to adopt a new policy on immigration. The calculations of the welfare committee are terrifying and show how unsuccessful the integration of immigrants has been up to now," he said.

A large thorn in the side of Denmark's imams is the Minister of Immigration and Integration, Rikke Hvilshoj. She makes no bones about the new policy toward immigration, "The number of foreigners coming to the country makes a difference," she¸ says, "There is an inverse correlation between how many come here and how well we can receive the foreigners that come." And on Muslim immigrants needing to demonstrate a willingness to blend in, "In my view, Denmark should be a country with room for different cultures and religions. Some values, however, are more important than others. We refuse to question democracy, equal rights, and freedom of speech."

Hvilshoj has paid a price for her show of backbone. Perhaps to test her resolve, the leading radical imam in Denmark, Ahm ed Abdel Rahman Abu Laban, demanded that the government pay blood money to the family of a Muslim who was murdered in a suburb of Copenhagen, stating that the family's thirst for revenge could be thwarted or money. When Hvilshoj dismissed his demand, he argued that in Muslim culture thepayment of retribution money was common, to which Hvilshoj replied that what is done in a Muslim country is not necessarily what is done in Denmark. The Muslim reply came soon after: her house was torched while she, her husband and children slept. All managed to escape unharmed, but she and her family were moved to a secret location and she and other ministers were assigned bodyguards for the first time - in a country where such murderous violence was once so scarce.

Her government has slid to the right, and her borders have tightened. Many believe that what happens in the next decade will determine whether Denmark survives as a bastion of good living, humane thinking and social responsibility, or whether it becomes a nation at civil war with supporters of Sharia law. And meanwhile, Americans clamor for stricter immigration policies, and demand an end to state welfare programs that allow many immigrants to live on the public dole. As we in America look at the enclaves of Muslims amongst us, and see those who enter our shores too easily, dare live on our taxes, yet refuse to embrace our culture, respect our traditions, participate in our legal system, obey our laws, speak our language, appreciate our history . . we would do well to look to Denmark, and say a prayer for her future and for our own.

This is how it looked when I got it, with all that bolding and highlighting.

After I read it, I was unhappy because it seemed totally wrong to me (still does) and the woman who forwarded it to me has forwarded similar things to me in the past.

I wrote her:
Please stop forwarding me e-mails that are meant to scare me into hating a certain group of people.
She wrote back:
I am not sure that was the point of the article. I had the impression that it was geared more towards the need for tighter immigration controls. But, every one gets a different ‘take’ on everything. So I apologize if I’ve offended you, and will try not to let this happen again.
Then I tried to let it go. I know that people get different things out of what they read. I was and English major, after all. I sat and stewed because I thought that she was being blind to the whole thing. I wrote her again:
I wasn’t offended. It takes a lot to offend me. I’m just tired of things reading things that pretend to be a news item reporting about one thing, but is really trying to show how certain groups of people in this world are scary and bad.

The reason I read this "article" as being against a group of people rather about immigration policy is because it focus only on one group of immigrants. I find it hard to believe that only one group of people have immigrated into Denmark or that only that one group isn’t integrating well. I think that if this "article" had really been about immigration policy it would have talked about many different immigrant groups or just focused on the tighter controls that are being put in place.

Maybe it’s just me, though.
Then she wrote an e-mail to all the people she forwarded the original thing to:
A couple of you found this email offensive, and I apologize. I want you all to know that it in no way reflected any personal opinion of mine, and that I understand how some may think of it as racially hateful. Again, I apologize, and will be more careful of controversial content in the future.
Shortly, there was one for me:
Yes, it was biased. Good point.
And that's where it ended. With me and her, at least.

The thing is, I really don't want to believe that there are people who could possible take something like this. Logically, I know that many people would take it at face value, but I don't want it to be like that. I want them to look for the subtle and not so subtle ways they are being manipulated to fear and hate a group of people. I want them to pay attention and think.

They won't, though. That's what scares me.

Also, I don't like the way she wrote "I want you all to know that it in no way reflected any personal opinion of mine, and that I understand how some may think of it as racially hateful." I don't like it because then I don't understand why she sent it. She doesn't randomly forward every bit of crap she gets because sometimes her list is close to forty people and this one was only five people. So, if it doesn't reflect her opinion, why send it?

The world confuses me a little more each day.

Friday, June 09, 2006

Randomness

Yesterday was one set of grandparents' 62nd anniversary. If I double my age, I've been alive less than half the time they've been married. (And I'm their oldest grandchild.) My other set of grandparents have a ways to go before they catch up, and I hope they never do because that would mean that one out of the four has gone missing, and I'd rather not have to deal with that until I'm so old I'll forget all about it the next day. Too bad that won't happen, but it's a nice wish.
I saw a file with the name Jeffrey Johnson Junior. I couldn't help thinking that his middle name is Jackson so when his mom would get angry with him she'd yell, "Jeffrey Jackson Johnson Junior get over here!"

You scored as Suicide. Your death will be suicide. What more can I say? Fact: Suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem. If you want to know how you will commit suicide, take a look at your second highest percentage on the bar graphs.

How Will You Die??
created with QuizFarm.com

My second highest percentage was "disappear." So, you've all been warned.


When I saw A Prairie Home Companion the other day, I was sitting next to this older woman who was busy chatting away with her husband, before the movie, about how much she liked their seats because it was right under the light and she could read. She reached into her bag and pulled out her book and noticed that I was already reading. "You brought a book, too," she said.

"Yup," I said.

"See what I brought." She turned the cover toward me. It was one of those new Little Lulu trades. I smiled.

"It was my birthday present."

"It's a good gift,” I said.

"Can you imagine a 67-year-old woman wanting this as a birthday present?" she asked. "But I did."

"It's a good gift," I said again. "Anyone who doesn't like Little Lulu deserves..." I paused. I wasn't sure if saying "deserves to die" is the kind of thing one should say to a stranger. "Well, I'm not sure what they deserve, but it should be something painful."

She laughed and said, "You are absolutely right." She opened her book and started reading.

I went back to my reading.

Every minute or so I heard her chuckle.
At lunch this week, I've been heading out of the office, going to the south stairwell, climbing to the landing between the fourth floor and the roof access, and sitting there to read. So far, it's the best place I've found for privacy in this town that isn't my apartment or has a toilet to sit on.
Here's a cartoon that I wish were animated and played in every movie theater worldwide.
And now I'm done. Have a decent weekend folks.

Wednesday, December 22, 2004

Shoppin'

So, I'm nearly done with my nondenominational Christmas shopping. Just have to buy a gift for one more person and I'm all finished. Hopefully tomorrow.

To get this close to being finished, I went out today. I braved The Mall parking lot (I walked through it) to get to the same stores every mall in the USA have. It was crowded in and out, very crowded.

I don't mind the crowds.

I think they're fun.

Almost everyone rushing around as if this is the most important thing they have in their lives. People trying to push through the group of three ladies barely moving, but trying to push without actually touching or just asking one to move to the side. The screaming kids with the purple faces in strollers being pushed by parents who pretend not to hear anything. The man, in his forties, who takes his place at the end of a ten person line and says, "I can't believe how crowded it is. Was it this crowded last year? I don't think it was. The crowds just get worse every year. It was never like this when I was a kid."

All this makes me laugh.

I never try to be in such a rush that I can't slow down to the speed of the three ladies in front of me. Screaming kids who look like they're heads are about to explode make me laugh. And the guy at the end of the line is wrong, it's been this bad for years.

Problems go away, they just shift to a different location for a while.

* * *
I made two mistakes today.

The first one was buying myself something that can easily be a gift from someone. I bought myself the second volume of Mickey Mouse in black and white. There was only one left in the store and I couldn't pass it up. I'm sorry if someone out there bought it for me, but I've opened mine. I couldn't help myself. I wasn't thinking.

Visiting a bookstore was my other mistake. I haven't been in a bookstore, off campus, of course, since some time in October. I have a problem: I like to buy books. After ten minutes in the store, I found myself carrying seven books and had to remind myself that I was looking for gifts for others, not myself. In the end, I found some gifts there for other people and bought myself only two. It was hard, but a decision I'll have to live with.

Tomorrow, out for the last gift and then off to work in the evening.