>People who complain make me feel like throwing puppies off of bridges

In the yellow journalist media today is something that makes me giggle like a giddy little schoolgirl.

Miley Cyrus has been forced to apologize (twice) for taking part in this picture.

Some group called the OCA is apparently "fuming" at the picture because it is such a derogatory and stereotypical gesture.

"The photograph of Miley Cyrus and other individuals slanting their eyes currently circulating the Internet is offensive to the Asian Pacific American community and sets a terrible example for her many young fans. The image falls within a long and unfortunate history of people mocking and denigrating individuals of Asian descent..."


I personally think that it is funny that there have been people who take offense to this. In fact, it has led me to a conclusion that just completes the thoughts I have been having recently: Americans like being the victims. We like the idea of having problems that are not brought on by ourselves (debt, being fat, etc) and are readily willing to let anything, and I repeat ANYTHING take that blame.

"My steak definitely is not medium, it's probably more like medium-plus. I demand that you recook this"


"I am such a mess right now because blahdeeblah broke up with me. I can't believe he would shatter my world like that."

I can't speak for every day in general, but not one day comes to my memory where somebody has not complained about something. Granted, I work at a restaurant and it is (with the fear of being called racist) white people's job to complain about anything and everything that is put in front of them. Wait times, cook temperatures, the dining room is too hot, my drink has too much ice, this ketchup won't come out of the bottle fast enough.. I have heard every one of these. All from white people. Congrats, guys you're making us look bad.

Black people, you're not off the hook. Sorry, African American. Just because we have a half white, quarter middle eastern and quarter black President doesn't mean you get the right to point fingers at us and declare us "racist" when we call something black. Also, (and this one will split hairs and make lots of people mad at me) it is not ok for you to proclaim ever so.... er.. elegantly? that there is no difference between black and white. The ignorance you are so quick to pass off as a white idea quickly becomes your own when you make such claims. If you're sick of the black stereotype, quit perpetuating it. Of course speaking ebonics will not get you a job, and it isn't because you're black, its because we cannot understand you when you speak.

I want to point out that I am fully aware that there are exceptions to every one of the situations I have presented, and that I am referring to culture as a whole.

Asians, you are not off the hook either. Don't you dare pick on Americans for making slanty-eyed jokes, because you have been making "round-eyed jokes" for just as long. Do you realize how old the tradition of anime is? No, I don't have eyes like a dinner plate. Does that mean I get offended when an asian says that I do? Of course not.

I do not want to come across as some white bigot who is doing nothing but picking at stereotypes and attempting to di (or tri)chotomize the culture. What I'm saying is it is pointless for you to get upset at things like the picture, to single somebody out simply for the status of their celebrity, or to take offense at the pointing out of your own insecurity. White people, you do not own the world. Black people, you are no longer the minority, in fact, you will be the majority in as little as 4 years, so quit playing the pity race card. Asians, you poke fun at Americans just as much as we poke fun at you. It's funny. Get over it.

I hereby instate a new policy: the next time someone complains about something innocuous, stab them in the eyes with a pencil so that you give them something real to gripe about. thanks.

Hamilton Barber

The subject of this page is an introverted writer/musician/lunatic from Chattanooga, TN who dabbles in lexical dexterity, unorthodox thoughts on prosperity, and being overwhelmingly undeserving of the privilege of waking up every day. He hopes that everybody who reads these words takes them to heart and leaps higher than he ever could. He reads, thinks, and speaks too much; he listens, works, and loves too little; and he says “I” entirely too often. The words on these pages are not his: they are the words that were given to him.