All of a sudden, I feel a need to wear khaki pants and diversify my stock portfolio

My mother has just informed me that my birth certificate says I’m “Caucasian.”

Caucasia is a region in Eurasia bordered on the north by Russia, on the southwest by Turkey, on the west by the Black Sea, on the east by the Caspian Sea, and on the south by Iran.  The concept of the Caucasian race originates in 18th century phrenology with a pseudohistory attributed to Prometheus, Noah’s Ark, and Jason and the Argonauts.

I’m not entirely sure when Hispanics stopped being generally called “white” in the United States (it probably varies depending on the area). I know my older brother was still called “white.” That makes sense. If there’s only two boxes, ‘white’ and ‘black,’ then my brother is probably closer to ‘white’ than he is to ‘black.’

But Caucasian is a quality judgment. It’s a marker of ethnicity and race. It’s more specific than ‘white.’ By the time I was born, there was definitely a ‘Mexican-American/Chicano’ box. But nobody checked it. Instead, the doctors took one look at me, said, “he looks like he’s going to like to wear polo shirts,” and wrote down ‘Caucasian.’

I’ve never looked or acted like a Mexican, so it’s not a huge adjustment. My pants are at waist level, my car has regular-sized rims and no hydraulics, I don’t like wearing wife-beaters or sunglasses, and my last name isn’t tattooed in old English letters on my back.

Perhaps I’m stereotyping. Like most races, Hispanics don’t really have defined boundaries. They are a self-identified ethnicity, people who trace their roots back to Latin America or Spain. Hispanics can be white, black, Native American or a blend of all these racial categories.

As my friend Jonathan says, I come from the ’spicky’ end of the spectrum. He even calls me Spixel. It’s a term of endearment… I think.

It’s one thing to be a ‘coconut‘ (white on the inside, brown on the outside, a term for Latinos that act white). It’s another thing to be a coconut that looks white too. But it’s another thing entirely to be a coconut that looks white, acts white, and is legally a white person too.

At this point, I think I need another fruit or vegetable to describe me… I’m thinking ‘Onion.’

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A Pixelated Recipe

This is a quick meal for those of you who are in a hurry mornings to get to work. This shouldn’t take more than five minutes to make and promises to be a healthy, filling, nutritious, sexy meal to fill your tummy.

Oatmeal Cheerios on the “Rocks”

Ingredients

• 4 cups of water
• 2 cups of sugar (Pixie Stix work as well)
• a dash of vanilla
• a tomato
• a medium-sized onion
• Eye of Newt
• De-skinned Pumpkin (the yellow one not white), its huge so ask the grocer to cut a slice for you
• Garlic Pods
• A fat green Chilli
• A bunch of Soft Greens (1 kattu Paalak, or ask keerakari for Sirikeera)
• A spoonful of butter
• Salt
• Pepper
• Paprika

Instructions

1. First, soak the water with the tomato and onion.
2. Peel the eye of Newt.
3. Place the eye of Newt in a nearby counter, constantly staring… constantly judging…
4. Sugar up the pumpkin, then add the tomatonion water.
5. Now add the bunch of soft greens and garlic pods which, obviously, you’d left soaking for 48 hours prior (NOT ONE SECOND MORE!!!).
6. Add a sprinkle of salt, a dash of pepper and a hint of paprika. Be sure not to go over by more than a smidgen or the entire meal will be ruined.
7. Bake at 598 degrees for six hours.
8. Take out of oven.
9. Slice into perfect 17ths and add frosting to each slice… if we forgot to mention frosting in the ingredients, add it now.
10. Dash the eye of Newt with vanilla, as it will be getting dry about now.
11. Serve chilled with red wine.
12. Rinse and Repeat.

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Right answers to impossible questions

Have you noticed I lost weight?

Incorrect answer: No, you still bent the light around you. If you have lost weight (and the gravity hasn’t lessened), then obviously you haven’t lost enough.

Correct answer: I noticed you looked slightly more shockingly beautiful, but I’d figured it was due to my own meager memory.

Do you think she’s pretty?

Incorrect answer: Yeah, otherwise I wouldn’t have cheated on you with her. I was just surprised to see her here, we’re not supposed to get together until the weekend. I hope she’s not pregnant, we didn’t use any protection the past few times.

Correct answer: No, I think she’s sad. Her life is a series of meaningless encounters and she doesn’t even know it. I pity her, really.

Where do you think this relationship is going?

Incorrect answer: Into your bedroom a few more times before I get tired of you, if you play your cards right.

Correct answer: I don’t like to talk about the future because I’m afraid I’ll jinx it, doubly so in this case, because I care so much about you and I love you so much that I’m just glad to be with you. I’ll follow this relationship where it takes me and be glad for every second me and you get to spend together.

Do you think your mother likes me?

Incorrect answer: I suppose anything is technically possible, but with all the crap her and my family talk about you, let’s just say it’s not bloody likely.

Correct answer: She loves you! She told me so the other day, how she was just worried that you didn’t like her. No, everyone loves you, in fact, they asked me to invite you to Thanksgiving this year and they’ve never invited anyone outside the immediate family!

Do I look fat in these pants?

Incorrect answer: Why yes. Yes you do, Tubbetha McFatticus. Surely you weren’t planning to go out wearing that crap? You look like the Michelin Man gone to seed.

Correct answer: (no hesitation) No, of course not. Don’t be silly, you’re not one of those people that has to worry about that sort of thing, you look beautiful no matter what.

Conclusion:

The correct answer is always a lie told with conviction.

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It’s Bastille Day!!

Happy Bastille Day!!

I know, I can’t believe my favorite holiday is back! Whoo!! Whoo!! Whoo!!

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ALIENS!!!

I figured out the secret to world peace. You’ve probably guessed it from the title of this post, but that won’t stop me from going on and on about how I came to this realization. The short version: I didn’t.

My friend Frank (mentioned here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here and here) noticed that his father only truly hit rock bottom after his divorce and when his kids grew up. Frank’s diagnosis: his father didn’t have a goal anymore.

Remember the beauty that was the cold war? Remember when growing up was fun? Sure, I’m glossing over the mortal terror at the possibility of an all-engulfing nuclear holocaust at any moment, but there was at least something that united the country. And sure, I’m glossing over the fact that the worst atrocities and invasions of sovereignty were initiated in that period, but my point remains: we had a unified goal and a unified purpose. Nothing exemplified that better than when Neil Armstrong landed on the moon.

We can have those days back. Actually, we can have better days.

Please follow my train of thought below the fold.

Continue reading ALIENS!!!…

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