buttons, applause and two black eyes

someone once told me that they didn't know what they'd do if i ever ran out of anger. it just struck me that i don't either. but more importantly i have confidence that i never will, because life will never run out of things worth being angry about.

i know that all my trigger buttons are in plain view, as prominently displayed as the plastic ones on my shirt, just waiting to be pushed. those that know me well can work me into a rant with a single word. it takes complete strangers a good minute or two. they aren't there because i don't know where else to put them, they're there because in order to make things happen buttons need to be pushed, so i guess they may as well be mine.

the truth of it is that i see a lot wrong with the way that things are. and since simple observation makes one of the two inevitable, i'd rather be angry than sad. i saw carlos mencia in san francisco the other night. and yes, everyone involved realized the situation was problematic from the beginning, but it was free so we figured what the fuck may as well just go...

now i pride myself upon having a pretty decent sense of humor. but i realize that may be because the vast majority of the humor i encounter is either rather witty sarcastic one-liners or the more repetitive reenactments of well-known stoner movies and the occassional Family Guy episode. this show was neither of these. i know my offense at racist jokes is what is anticipated as the inspiration for this rant. but it's not. growing up in oceanside i can tolerate the predictabile and uninspired racist commentaries about how asians can't drive and black men have foot long dicks. these jokes just make me wonder who still finds this shit funny, not because it's so ridiculous but because it's just so fucking trite.

no what got to me was the number of jokes centered around domestic violence. apparently women being beaten by their spouses got hilarious when i wasn't paying attention. when i told my friends that i thought that, if anything, was off-limits one of them told me "well it's not like anyone in there thinks hitting your wife is ok, it's not like he's condoning domestic violence". i agree. but what are they saying? what aspect of that joke is funny?

people make jokes about black people, but never say they deserve to be lynched unless it's introduced with "i know this really horrible racist joke". they joke about gays, but never Matthew Shepard. they joke about Jews, but not in terms of the Holocaust. they walk up to the line, but few of them cross it. with women it's different. they get pummeled in jest, lips split to a resounding applause and black eyes encouraged by the screams of the entire front row.

i'm not angry that people laughed at the fact that you can't tell a woman with two black eyes anything you haven't already told her twice. i'm angry at the fact that when i am offended people think it's because i'm a feminist, or a liberal, or an idealistic kid. not because there are women walking around right now with make-up covreed black eyes. i'm not angry because of my sex, or my politics. i'm angry because the world is one fucked up place to live, and yelling is better than crying.

it bothers me that people feel the need to look over their shoulder before they tell a racist joke, since clearly the only person who'd be offended by an asian joke is an asian. but it bothers me more that sexist jokes don't even get a turn of the head. not that you'd see the battered woman in the room even if you did look. she probably put enough make-up on this morning to make sure of that.

by the way, have you ever heard the one about the white guy and the Christian?

no, neither have i.