That's what she said.......

Racism, how do you see it?

2010-07-11T19:27:00.000-07:00

http://worldstarhiphop.com/videos/video.php?v=wshh8n3Z7ZmaEhf8i4hJ

In looking at the above link my heart went out to the men and women of this police force. Racism is one of the most charged and misunderstood words in our society. So charged and misunderstood in fact, that if someone else even thinks that someone else might even think that they're "racist", out come the bulging eyes, raised eyebrows, elevated pitch and the all too predictable plea of...drumroll please...."I'm not racist!!!." And if someone is really good at objecting to being racist, they might even cry or be brought to the brink of tears, as did the third officer in the above video.

As I stated at the beginning of this note, my heart goes out to these officers, but not because they're being accused of being racist(Come on did you think I'd make it that easy). My heart goes out to them because they like so many other "well intentioned" Americans have totally misunderstood the depth, power, and overall scope of racism here in America. Let me just put it this way, America is SO racist, that you don't even have to actually BE racist, to perpetuate racISM. I can feel the wheels turning already. When it comes to matters of race and culture here in America, most of us have this invisible scale of 1 to 10 floating around in our heads, 1 is the most racially and culturally sensitive and 10 is the least. 1 is I love everybody let's work toward progress, peace, and hope, 10 is eff everybody else that doesn't look, speak, and think like me. 1 is President Obama, and 10 is the dude who founded the Ku Klux Klan, Rush Limbaugh and Fox News are about a 5 on this scale.

So when people here the term racist, this invisible scale starts to go nuts, and they immediately think, "No way, I'd never lynch, beat up, show hatred, spit on, or disrespect someone solely because of the color of their skin." Racism however, though it begins as an idea in our heads, doesn't stay there. In this country, we've had hundreds of years of people who were actually racist, who believed in the inherent superiority and inherent inferiority of racial groups, making our laws, constructing policies, building businesses, opening schools(research the history of private Christian education in America), buying sports teams, amending the constitution, running for President, being the President and so on and so forth. So with that wonderful "headstart", we are now at a place here in our country where Racism isn't just an individual moral vice, it's an entire system that has been built over the centuries. Hence my point, you don't actually have to BE racIST, to perpetuate racISM. Sadly, we spend most of our time bickering over who and who isn't racist, than opposing and tearing down the racist SYSTEM that's all around us.

So we come full circle, because that's exactly what I see going on in this "protest." A collection of individuals, who by all means are probably "well intentioned" fathers, mothers, husbands and wives of all races, who see racism as merely a choice they make or a belief that they do or do not hold, rather than a system that needs to be brought down. They see the immigration law that they're being asked to enforce, and themselves as two separate things that have no relationship to one another. Hence the justified one liners of, "I'm not racist, I'm doing my job, I'm fighting the war against-insert government cause here." If you want to say illegal immigration is an "epidemic", that's a real buzz word in America these days,I'll let you have that, but Racism....(here comes another equally good buzz word)...has been a Pandemic for even longer. So it seems we're fighting an epidemic with a pandemic lol, way to go America we rock. It's like letting loose a gang of King Cobras because you have mice in your back yard. You can probably see how THAT movie would end.

So now you might be thinking, "well what do you expect these cops to do, not enforce the law, protest against the law, they have families to feed." You're oh so right, and that truth is EXACTLY what makes racism in America the beast that it is. I guess fish in a polluted stream have no choice, but to breathe the water.

Laundromats, Bio Class and New Apartments

2009-10-23T11:34:00.000-07:00

Anybody remember your highschool biology class??? I remember mine vividly. Not so much for the things I learned but for all the experiences, the good, the bad, and the fugly in between. I had some not so sane classmates who were prone to slam doors in a near murderous rage sending clocks flying off walls and clock batteries into the heads of innocent bystanders. I had a teacher whose voice hadn't fully developed during puberty, causing strange and sudden undulations in pitch, tone, and my attention span. And then there was me, just being a class clown. But one thing I do remember studying was "cross sections". You could take anything from an onion to a tree bark, get it under a microscope, and know all you need to know about the whole thing without going into the woods or anything, perfect for us guys with our all white airforce ones and the ladies who had just got they hur did! And don't worry, if you can't remember doing cross sections in bio-class I have some really great news. There's still time to pay attention because life...........................drumroll please!!!!....................offers you cross sections.

That's right!! Life has a way of presenting you with small splices of reality, that can show you all you need to know about the big picture, without you jumping in the frame. So a friend of mine is lamenting over her recent experience at her local laundromat, people taking up six dryers at a time, girls collecting dirt and lint for no apparent reason, and people deciding that 6 months worth of laundry should not be done in increments over time but all at once because that's more interesting. And then it dawned on me, the laundromat is a cross section. My friend, had she chosen to, could have learned all she needed to know about her neighborhood, just by doing laundry there. The idiosyncrasies of culture, personality, and morale are all on fully display when the people get together to wash their undies. This is also true of supermarkets, movie theatres, fast food spots. So if you're in the market for a new apartment, don't worry about what some local listing or some real estate agent who doesn't even live there says about the neighborhood, you wait until your draws are dirty, or until you need to re-up on some cold cuts, and head out to launderland or pathmark or vons or the local McDonald's, and taste and see. Because if you do decide to move in, you're going to have to be there anyway. So you might as well get out your microscope, and head to your local cross section. Nevermind what you got in bio-class, today is a new day, and a new opportunity. Funny how life is isn't it?

First Blog in a long time

2009-10-07T11:55:00.000-07:00

My first blog in a long time, will not be a very long one. I will in no way attempt to make up for lost time with a cumbersome "re-cap" of everything that has happened to me in the past 9 weeks (not like you would read that anyway.) Instead I will simply write. Writing is one of my favorite things to do. I find something fascinating about being able to influence, inspire, encourage, and change the direction of a human life with the use words. So this blog is simply to get myself going in that direction once again because, like so many things in life, the hardest step is usually the first.

So I'm back, not with a vengeance or anything fancy or Bruce Willis worthy...I'm just back, regular back. The way your favorite TV show comes back in the fall. So, might there be anything YOU need to get back to?

Today was a good day

2009-08-17T02:04:00.000-07:00

Today was a good day. This could suffice as the beginning and the ending of this blog, but then you would feel cheated because you wasted about 61 seconds of your life to check a blog that wasn't. So with that being said, and because I might want you to come back in the future, I will tell you why. I was used today. And not used as in, ex-girlfriend manipulated my emotions while getting her relational needs met used, but used as in God is doing something on this planet and I was actually a part of it used. Literally from morning until night, I was used. The specifics of my usage may serve as a digression or may make for a better separate blog, so I won't tell you what exactly I did. Just know this, there is no feeling on this planet earth that can make you feel more alive than this. Yes, that includes romantic, notebook/p.s. i love you/titanic story book love. The feeling of knowing that there is a God up there, who brought himself down here, to make himself known everywhere, who has somehow chosen you despite your akwardness and in-appropiateness (new word), is absolutely indescribable (even though i just described it.) My blogs are usually NOT this openly spiritual. I usually trick you into things like this. Today however has drained me in such a good way that I don't have the energy to fool you. So I won't. Just know that I'm alive and that when I die, there can be one thing said about me that will be true and that can be placed on my tombstone (if affordable), "here lies a man that when he was not dead, was known to be alive." Thank you for this day, in Jesus name. Amen

Don't worry, nothing's going to happen here

2009-08-12T17:45:00.000-07:00

I was at the corner bakery today with one of my kids, kids as in kids from my youth group not kids as in a child I have fathered without telling anyone until now, when I realized the importance of what that place means to me. From the time we are able to walk we are socialized that different places come inherent with different meanings. It sounds deep, and it is, make the check payable to Mark Anthony Chase. Just kidding, but seriously, everywhere we go has a different meaning, a different feeling attached to it, a different purpose. Come with me for just a moment. The bathroom is where we go when that double cheeseburger we had no business touching in the first place decides to wreak havoc on our small intestine. The post office is where we go when we have important life or death documents that absolutely needed to be somewhere else yesterday. The Church is where some of us go, when where we were last night, makes us feel just a bit guilty. The bank is where we go, to become depressed about the lack of funds in our accounts, that virtually assure us we will NOT be going to Hawaii or any place else very satisfying any time soon. I could go on, but by now you see what I'm getting at. Every place in our lives is territorially marked and peed on by the pressures of society to do do do and do. Every place we go has a different feeling attached to it, depending on what we do while we're there. But to that I say create a place, find a place, by any means neccessary, where you don't have to worry, because NOTHING is going to happen there. Maybe you picked up on it by now but if not I will come out and say it. I'm one of those wierd people that worship Jesus, and live a life dedicated to trying to somewhat resemble his (some days are uglier than others). But when I look at Jesus and the life he led, he always saved a place where he could go where he did nothing, said nothing, and where nothing was expected of him. Usually for Jesus this was a mountain or hillside, since I don't have an extra 4 hours a day to hike up the San Gabriels, the corner bakery will have to do. For me it's a place where there are no e-mails, text messages, text messages about e-mails, or bank statements that can threaten my sanity. I do nothing, say nothing, and nothing is expected of me. And you know what, it feels so disgustingly good. Find that place for yourself, it will change everything, or maybe it won't, but at the very least, it will change you.

To my readers

2009-08-05T22:40:00.000-07:00

To the people who are reading and/or following this blog, I say thank you. That is not all I wish to say to you but, I thought it would be good to say it first because if I didn't you would be wondering "when is he going to thank me for spending 6 to 12 minutes of my day caring what he thinks?" So now that we've addressed that, what do I REALLY want to say to you? Well, tonight, through this post, it is my desire to inspire you. I shy away from trying to do this directly because the human being has developed a fascinating ability to resist direct inspiration, and then label it preaching. So tonight, in order to inspire you, I have to first trick you. I have to fool you into thinking that this post has nothing to do with you so that you read it all the way to the end, only to find out that yes, it has EVERYTHING to do with you. Life is like this sometimes. We spend so much time buried IN the story, that we don't consciously realize what part we're actually playing. Then we hit the end or a crucial moment and we think, "how the heck did I get here?" Yes, life mesmerizes us, hypnotizes us, paralyzes us, and ultimately tricks us. But it doesn't have to be that way. That's one of the reasons I write. Because somehow through the words on this page I go from living, breathing, living, breathing, living, breathing...... to, thinking, pausing, thinking, pausing, thinking, pausing, and then living and breathing much more wisely and much more deeply than I ever did before. That's what writing is for me, my way of paying attention to life as it unfolds. So by now you may have realized that you've been tricked, but hopefully at this point it doesn't matter. It is my desire to inspire you tonight to pay attention to life. Write life down as it happens, think out loud, say your dreams back to yourself, get angry at what happened in line at the grocery store and understand why you're angry, read the signs, even if you have to stop for a second. Why? Who knows.....I assume though it's kinda like peanut butter with jelly, it just tastes better that way.

Black People at McDonald's (oh yes!!)

2009-08-03T15:42:00.000-07:00

So I'm at McDonald's, yes McDonald's. Because Sometimes you just need to not care about what you do with your body. And since I refuse to take this approach in other areas such as say sex and physical intimacy, I figured I'd use my opportunity on a quarter pounder every other week. Much safer, less emotionally painful, and faster. So like I said, I'm at McDonald's. And I'm engaged in not caring when I'm interrupted by an argument that breaks out between a young Black mother of...... (let's say three.....didn't actually get a chance to see all of the kids she had with her) and an older Hispanic or White guy who was reading a newspaper. One of the kid's with the young Mom had begun to play loudly with a toy motorcycle, much to the disliking of the older man who was just one seat away. The old man then lets out a passive aggressive grunt. In response the mother screams out...."ummm you can go to the lie berry (library) if you wanna read." Can you see where this is going? Things escalate as the two go back and forth, and a number of verbal threats and expletives rhyming with tuck, stuck, pluck, and ship are exchanged, along with a few N words ( f.y.i. N words spoken by the black mom...otherwise yall know I would have jumped in...lol). Anyway, the truly sad part of this story is that after the old man leaves due to being physically threatened, one of the kids, no older than 4, begins repeating verbatim every word that the mom just spoke. She doesn't correct the child, after all, how can she? The kid just goes on repeating in his toddler accent "Motherphwucker.....fwucking bish.....pushy ash bish" (excuse my/his/mom clearly not on her job's language). Now I'm definitely not one to try and say anything to anybody else about raising their kids, I don't have any. But as an Uncle, Pastor, and simply a human being my heart just wanted me to walk over there and say "LADY IS YOU CRAZY!!!".........but.....logic prevailed.....I guess...and I walked out, not in the least bit "embarrassed to be black". I'm too proud of the legacy of my people stemming all the way back to the pyramids in Egypt to ever feel that way, but just worried about that kid, and that mom, that family, our communities. And maybe I'm wrong, maybe her behavior that afternoon was just part of a long day for her, maybe she corrected her son when she went home, maybe every thing's fine. But what if it's not? And if it isn't, what are we/you supposed to do about it? Or am I just making too many assumptions?

Ants and life!!

2009-07-31T10:25:00.000-07:00

Why is it that we as human beings are forced to share living spaces with so many undesirable rodents, pests, and other vermin. So what if they were here before we were. Did God really BEHOLD a skunk and say, "it is good", or how about a raccoon, or an armadillo? I'm sorry, but there are certain species in God's created order for which I have absolutely no respect. Ants used to be on this list, the axis of evil, right there with roaches and rats. However, a recent home invasion of ants has revealed something to me. I was enjoying a bowl of honey bunches of oats (yes honey bunches of oats) when I realized that underneath that beautiful crunch and satisfying almondy ecstasy, I was actually SHARING this breakfast with several friends. And not friends like Jennifer Anniston and Matthew Perry, friends like I probably might throw up now how many did I actually swallow I want to move to a place where I don't have this problem friends. Yes indeed, there were Ants all over my cereal. So I proceeded to throw it away, and then check my cupboard, and realized that these Ants were all over the food cabinet. And that's when it hit me, Ants make us do inventory. Ants make us sweep. Ants make us clean, wash, scrub, dust, vacuum, wipe, and do all of those things we maybe should have been doing before they showed up. Ants have a way of making us better people (0kay maybe not). But here's the truth, so many of life's annoyances have an interesting way of pushing us to correct things that have been wrong for a very long time. The annoyance reaches a breaking point (ants in your cereal), and then something must be done. Then you realize that beyond getting rid of ants, your cupboard is just cleaner, and you realize you have some un-opened macaroni that's still good, and that overall the recession hasn't left you without food altogether. So here's to Ants, because we can all use time to reflect, sweep, pause, clean, wipe, and do inventory.

My Biological Clock

2009-07-29T10:47:00.000-07:00

I have a biological clock. It is ticking. Now, I know what you're thinking, "biological clocks? those are for women who actually have.........biological clocks." But no, be creative for a second. Escape the oppresive confines of our current culture and flow with me for a little bit. My big brother got married last week, congrats kev. And during the wedding reception there is of course that five minute period reserved for the parents to give a toast. My Father gives the toast to my brother and his bride. It's a very emotional toast, my Dad cries, I laugh. I'm sorry I had to, it wasn't a graceful cry, it was one of those whiny I'm still trying to talk so my voice gets all high pitched cries. And I only laughed to myself, not completely out loud. So at the tail end of this emotional salute he then turns to me, drawing the attenion of the other one hundred and fifty two guests and says "three down, one to go." Now it's everyone else's turn to laugh, and my turn to cry. So being the only one of four siblings who is now not married with two children, I have been "awarded".......drumroll please..........you guessed it............... a biological clock. This clock reminds everyone to ask me about marriage, babies, and even having babies outside of marriage every...... I don't know................ 67 seconds. It comes standard with no snooze button, no plug, no batteries.................... and no wife to get rid of it. I don't hate this clock, I'm cool with it. I'm only 25, but somehow this clock could keep me from saying one day, I'm only 45. Nah, I don't hate the clock, because if I do, that only gives it more power. Big shoutout to my honorary bio clock......one love

About writing

2009-07-25T00:05:00.000-07:00

So as you can see I've started a blog. And this particular post isn't an introduction welcoming you to my blog and lettting you know that I'm new at this so don't expect much, or please don't tell anyone what a horrible blogger I am but instead say something like, "hey you know Mark Chase right, yeah he just started a blog, like just started as in a couple days ago, it's not so bad." No this isn't a plea for a learning curve. This is my way of saying these are my thoughts out loud and this is how I chose to organize them. These are my writings. I can't scrutinize over and over again about what you will think when you read them because honestly, that could stop me from writing them. And in my opinion the best writers.....are the ones that actually write. Funny how life works isn't it?

Adventures of an unwitting Ogre

2009-07-24T17:57:00.000-07:00

So apparently I am an Ogre (prenounced O-grrrr). It has taken me quite some time to come to this conclusion, but I am thouroughly convinced that this is true. It must be true, it is the only logical conclusion that I can come to when I am constantly confronted with strange behaviors on the parts of others, that are completely appropriate for when confronted by an Ogre. And at this point if you're tracing your mind trying to remember the last Ogre you saw, just think shrek. So apparently, I am shrek. And when I say shrek I mean ugly bumpy green shrek, not shrek when he became a prince but shrek cursing at his Donkey played by Eddie Murphy shrek. Or at least this is who I am to many middle aged white women, who seem to desperately avoid any social interaction with me that may cause me to behave like my Disney pixar counterpart. For example, I'm standing in the aisle at Target trying to decide whether to buy FIFA soccer 2008 or NBA 2008 (video games, not exactly the rifle section at wal-mart). My back is turned, eyes focused firmly on my subsequent purchase, hands in pockets, slightly hunched over, not appearing in the least bit over-bearing, and nowhere near an approriate attack position. When in the corner of my non combative eye, I see a middle-aged (in this case white) woman holding a shopping cart. She is not searching for anything in my section and she is not moving past me, but clearly desires to. I am not in the way(since everything being bigger in America from cars to quarter pounder meals at Mcdonalds certainly applies to wide shopping aisles), but clearly she is terrified of passing by or saying excuse me, thereby envoking my wrath. So I, as I have done so many times in this situation, turn around politely, smile, and say hello, and then proceed to press my body up against the merchandise, just so she can feel more than comfortable enough to make it out alive. So yes, I am an Ogre, a polite Ogre who plays video games and shops at Target, but an Ogre nonetheless. Yes, this must be my identity, thank you for reading this and helping me embrace it. Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrr......okay so that might be more pirate than Ogre, but thank you once again...