I don't find Andrea Peyser particularly racist; just annoying, presumptuous, and judgmental in the way some white people can be when talking about non-white people. I mean, it's simplification to suggest that any one thing a parent did led to their child being dangerous (and ultimately dead), but I think- black or white- we can all agree this woman was a shitty parent and at least is partially responsible for her son's fate.
And I also don't think it's ridiculous to suggest people who live in the effing ghetto adjust to more strict standards for how they bring up their children, especially if they feel that negative influences are literally everywhere.
And I'm sorry, is the lack of present fathers (or father-figures) in the lower-class black community some kind of secret? I've had people straight ask me to my face if I had a father, for no other reason than that I'm black...
@TheMac: Thank you, I think you nailed it. It's that basic assumption that, well, this is what worked for me (assuming it did work for her) so you should do it too. "I didn't have to go to college to be a success so why should you?" "I went to college and you should buckle down and do the same or else you won't succeed in this society." Everybody's got a line on how life should be run.
I just pulled a chicken from the the freezer for dinner tomorrow night. Every year friends and I raise chickens in the summer. And then in the fall, after 3 months of living a life of grass-scratching and grub eating the chickens are killed, dipped, plucked and gutted. I would like to think that it was a happy life, but I don't know, I am not a chicken.
We dressed the chickens two weeks ago. That day dawned bright and beautiful. Cool, but not too cold. And later, warm, but not too hot. It was the kind of day that fooled the honeybees into coming out of their hives one last time before winter, only to learn one of lifes lessons: there is no nectar on a dead chicken carcass.
Today is a completely different kind of day. My patch of earth is covered in the slate grey of late November. It's the kind of day that reminds you that winter is coming. On days like this I often wonder what it is like to be an editor at media-centered gossip blog. Did they spend the last three months living the chicken life, scratching at the grass and eating the grubs that city life has to offer? Are they doing what they can to prepare for winter? Do they even know that winter is coming? Does Hamilton Nolan want one of my chickens?
@plasticene: Maybe you folks should spend a bit more time talking about each other. Sarah Palin's daughter developed a early taste for dick and her baby daddy isn't in the picture. Discuss.
Sneak peek at Peyser's column tomorrow:
"Idi Amin was a black father of something like, I don't know- 40 or so children who were also black. They were really dark black, too. You know the kind- not like the tokens in the Ralph Lauren ads. You don't see anyone popping a cap in Idi Amin's kids. So it *can* be done, black dads. Step up to the plate."
The United Jewish Appeal has started Connect to Care, which already has given more than 8,000 needy Jews financial services, job help and mental-health counseling to get through unfamiliar territory.
Just don't be surprised when we cut them open and discover they're not really jews.
11/23/09
And I also don't think it's ridiculous to suggest people who live in the effing ghetto adjust to more strict standards for how they bring up their children, especially if they feel that negative influences are literally everywhere.
And I'm sorry, is the lack of present fathers (or father-figures) in the lower-class black community some kind of secret? I've had people straight ask me to my face if I had a father, for no other reason than that I'm black...
11/23/09
11/23/09
If you don't find her racist, I shudder at what you DO consider racist. Do you also think all black kids should be shackled?
09:26 AM
#tips
11/23/09
We dressed the chickens two weeks ago. That day dawned bright and beautiful. Cool, but not too cold. And later, warm, but not too hot. It was the kind of day that fooled the honeybees into coming out of their hives one last time before winter, only to learn one of lifes lessons: there is no nectar on a dead chicken carcass.
Today is a completely different kind of day. My patch of earth is covered in the slate grey of late November. It's the kind of day that reminds you that winter is coming. On days like this I often wonder what it is like to be an editor at media-centered gossip blog. Did they spend the last three months living the chicken life, scratching at the grass and eating the grubs that city life has to offer? Are they doing what they can to prepare for winter? Do they even know that winter is coming? Does Hamilton Nolan want one of my chickens?
11/23/09
12:06 AM
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11/23/09
"Idi Amin was a black father of something like, I don't know- 40 or so children who were also black. They were really dark black, too. You know the kind- not like the tokens in the Ralph Lauren ads. You don't see anyone popping a cap in Idi Amin's kids. So it *can* be done, black dads. Step up to the plate."
11/23/09
11/23/09
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11/23/09
Just don't be surprised when we cut them open and discover they're not really jews.
/Peyser-ized
11/23/09
Like Beck swearing off the Society of Professional Journalists
11/23/09
11/22/09