I find that White people Downtown in Chicago expect you to get out of their way and WILL bump you if you do not recognize them.
sorry to tell you this, well since it is the truth, and what this thread is about ...Truth......I do not see white people.
In other words.....as I walk through life....White people are shadows. I engage to get what I need done and that's pretty much it.
I've found that White people FEAR my existence. Therefore, I refuse to engage people that live and act out of fear, paranoia, cowardise, etc..........add the fact that I'm NOT SEXUALLY interested..... and since everything is sexual - they REALLY are OBSOLETE.
Last edited by 206REFUGEE; 04-07-2010 at 11:05 AM.
(\_/) "Recognizeth an attention
(O.-)whore when thou doth sees
(___) it, and then ignoreth its ass" - SuzanneT 1:1
"Change happens when the pain of holding on becomes greater than the fear of letting go." — Spencer Johnson
"Those who danced were thought to be quite insane by those who could not hear the music.”– Angela Monet
"There are 10 kinds of people. Those who understand binary and those who don't" -unknown
There's a homeless guy from around our store that does this exact same thing. He always comes in the store bitching about how the tourists don't get out of his way & bragging about how he rams them with his shoulder to teach them a lesson. He's very adamant about this process and has proclaimed himself a freedom fighter for his actions.
He also used to break into the newspaper vending boxes on the street, steal the newspapers & then sell them. He likened it to him being Robin Hood (no lie).
He stopped doing that after the newspaper guy caught him one time and almost broke 3 of his fingers in the door of the newspaper box.
I'm pretty sure he's still doing the shoulder thing tho because no one has broken any of his fingers with their shoulder yet.
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"After the incident with the officer I was drawn there even more strongly; I used to encounter him along Nevsky most often, and it was there that I could admire him. He would also go there, mostly on holidays. He, too, would give way to generals and individuals of superior rank; he, too, would spin like a top among them. But he would simply trample people like me, or even those slightly superior; he would walk directly toward them, as if there were empty space ahead of him; and under no circumstance would he ever step aside. I reveled in my malice as I observed him, and. . . bitterly stepped aside before him every time. I was tortured by the fact that even on the street I found it impossible to stand on an equal footing with him. "Why is it you're always first to step aside?" I badgered myself in insane hysteria, at times waking up at three in the morning. 'Why always you and not he? After all, there's no law about it; it isn't written down anywhere. Let it be equal, as it usually is when people of breeding meet: he steps aside halfway and you halfway, and you pass showing each other mutual respect.' But that was never the case, and I continued to step aside, while he didn't even notice that i was yielding to him. Then a most astounding idea suddenly dawned on me. 'What if,' I thought, 'what if I were to meet him and. . . not step aside? Deliberately not step aside, even if it meant bumping into him: how would that be?' This bold idea gradually took such hold that it afforded me no peace. I dreamt about it incessantly, horribly, and even went to Nevsky more frequently so that I could imagine more clearly how I would do it. I was in ecstasy. The scheme was becoming more and more possible and even probable to me. 'Of course, I wouldn't really collide with him,' I thought, already feeling more generous toward him in my joy, 'but I simply won't turn aside. I'll bump into him, not every painfully, but just so, shoulder to shoulder, as much as decency allows. I'll bump into him the same amount as he bumps into me.' At last I made up my mind completely. But the preparations took a very long time. First, in order to look as presentable as possible during the execution of my scheme, I had to worry about my clothes. 'In any case, what if, for example, it should occasion a public scandal?' (And the public there was superflu: a countess, Princess D., and the entire literary world.) It was essential to be well-dressed; that inspires respect and in a certain sense will place us immediately on equal footing in the eyes of high society.
. . . I gradually began to get down to business. It was impossible to set about it all at once, in a foolhardy way; one had to proceed in this matter very carefully, step by step. But I confess that after many attempts I was ready to despair: we didn't bump into each other, no matter what! No matter how I prepared, no matter how determined I was--it seems that we're just about to bump, when I look up--and once again I've stepped aside while he's gone by without even noticing me. I even used to pray as I approached him that God would grant me determination. One time I'd full resolved to do it, but the result was that I merely stumbled and fell at his feet because, at the very last moment, only a few inches away from him, I lost my nerve. He stepped over me very calmly, and I bounced to one side like a rubber ball. . . . [Then one day] I went to Nevsky Prospect for one last time simply in order to see how I'd abandon the whole thing. Suddenly, three paces away from my enemy, I made up my mind unexpectedly; I closed my eyes and--we bumped into each other forcefully, shoulder to shoulder! I didn't yield an inch and walked by him on a completely equal footing! He didn't even turn around to look at me and pretended that he hadn't even noticed; but he was pretending, I'm convinced of that. To this very day I'm convinced of that! Naturally, I got the worst of it; he was stronger, but that wasn't the point. The point was I'd achieved my goal, I'd maintained my dignity, I hadn't yielded one step, and I'd publicly placed myself on an equal footing with him. . . " --Dostoevsky
Notes from Underground—nice!
reads so much more beautifully in Russian... werk Lokee