Metaphors for just how absurd Racism is:
I send Stupid Stu to the Store to purchase kidney beans for my chile. He can’t find the kidney beans so instead he comes back with three kidneys from the butcher. “Kidney” and “Kidney beans” according to him, must be closely related because they have the same label.
Handy Handsome Hal and I are hanging a picture. I am holding the picture in place and it’s centered, but when I ask Hal to hand me the hammer, it turns out, the hammer is not in the toolbox. I ask Hal to go into the laundry room and get the hammer hanging there — the one with the wooden handle. Instead, Handy Handsome Hal goes into the kitchen and brings me a wooden spoon. “Here you go!” He says. “It also has a wooden handle.”
Marvelous Marvin has decided that the science and math required are too difficult for him so instead of architecture, he decides to become an artist instead. Here are his first three paintings:
Marvelous Marvin’s silly sister Silvia has decided to become a composer. Here’s is a short selection from her Second, Sixth, and Seventh symphonies. (Each symphony is exactly the same).
In our Tennis Tournament, Timmy the Tennis Player and I draw each other as partners. Our opponents, new to both of us, are two lefties. We know nothing else about them — not their records, not their rankings. Timmy comes over to me and says, “It’ll be easy to beat them! I played a lefty once in high school. He hit everything cross court! All we have to do is cover the cross-court angles! When I serve, you’ll never have to worry about him going right up the line. Just poach right away!”
Me: “Well, Timmy, I’ve played against plenty of left-handers and I can assure you that they don’t always hit cross-court! Have you ever watched Nadal?”
Timmy: “Oh, Nadal’s an exception! He’s brilliant! But your typical lefty hits cross-court. They just can’t or won’t hit down the line. I think the fact that the net is higher there throws them off.”
Me: “Why on earth would it be harder for a lefty to hit down the line than a righty?”
Timmy: “I don’t know. I think it probably has something to do with the earth’s rotation. It’s clockwise like being a right hander. It’s the right way. So, the lefty is just unnatural. So they can’t hit down the line. Believe me! I know! I played a left-hander, like I said.”
Me: “Yes, I know Timmy, but I’ve had lots of experience with left-handed players. My brother is left-handed. My son is left-handed and though he doesn’t play tennis, he’s extremely coordinated. He plays musical instruments, draws, juggles — and I’ve watched plenty of left-handed pros on TV. They’re perfectly capable of hitting any shot a righty does.”
Timmy: “You’ll see!”
Which one of these is different?
Flora the Flubbing Florists says the one in the last one is different. Why? Because it’s a shade darker.
Come on people. Grow up. We’re adult humans, not viruses. We have brains. Let’s use them.