Inconsistency

Yes, yes, I hear your snickering, SFL. This post is not about why it seems as if I can't make up my mind if I live in the Northeastern US or in Victoria, Australia. Or why it seems as if I can't make up my mind if I am single with no prospects, thank you very much, or married to a cute Aussie bloke named Danny. Or why it seems as if I can't make up my mind whether my name is Jess or Mary (or Taeli, or Sara, or Cari, or India, or any of my other online aliases). Or...

OK, I'll stop now. *smiles sweetly* I love being annoying.

No, what this post is really about is the fact that I discovered some inconsistency within my own thought patterns today, inconsistency that has nothing to do with any of the abovementioned topics.

A/N (that's Author's Note for those of you who don't read fan fiction): There's inconsistency, there's schizophrenia, and then there's fantasy. Very different things.

Anyway. I was sitting in my summer class today and we were talking about the ethics of smoking. Long story short, we somehow arrived at a discussion of Native Americans and casinos and cigarette taxes. The convo disintegrated alarmingly, in my view, from there, and if you had been there you probably could have almost seen the smoke (ha, ha, ha, a pun!!!) pouring from my ears. I bit my lip hard to keep from chiming in.

But I HAD to chime in when a bloke in front of me spoke up. "Well, they have *so* much money now, with all the casinos they run. They can afford to pay cigarette taxes. It wouldn't hurt them. They're rich."

"No, they're not!" I blurted out. "That money belongs only to a select few. Many of them have *nothing*. They are not rich!"

Rather than say any more, I shall post a link. Go explore this site. http://anelder.org/ If and when I secure a job, part of my pay will go to these people. I am very excited to think that I can make a difference in their lives!

But on to the inconsistency. The girl in front of me, who happened to be African American, said a moment later, "Giving them leeway with the cigarette tax and stuff like that is the least we can do since we stole their land."

I felt like getting up and cheering. "Exactly!" I wanted to say. I wanted to bring up the Trail of Tears, the Wounded Knee Massacre, Columbus' abuse of the Native people, the Sand Creek Massacre, any of the injustices brought upon the Native American people.

But just then a thought rocketed through my tiny little brain. Why is it, my conscience asked me, that you think the Native Americans deserve reparation for past injustices and injuries...but the descendants of African Americans who suffered through slavery do not warrant that same reparation?

I have no answer, really. I guess I need to make up my mind one way or the other. Do both groups deserve reparation, apologies, and preferential treatment -- or do neither of the groups deserve it? Let's drop the issue of deserving; no one deserves anything good. All good things are blessings from Christ.

But *should* either of the groups receive anything from society? Should reparation be given when all these terrible things happened in the past? There is no denying that the past has impacted the present and, probably, the future. If the effects of the past are still in play, then why should we scoff and say, "Ah, get over it; that happened 150 years ago. It doesn't affect anybody anymore. We should just forget what happened and all try our best to get along."

Imagine a husband and wife getting into a fight over something. They each say things that hurt the other deeply. After an uneasy truce, they go back to "regular" life. Should that happen without either of them admitting to fault, asking for forgiveness, and doing their best to make things right?

"Love means never having to say you're sorry," I've heard people say. Bunk. Love means being the first to say you're sorry.

But what do y'all think? Should it be over and done with, or should something happen to repair the damage that's undeniably been done?

Yeah, yeah, I realise I'm always way behind, always just dabbling in issues that the rest of the world has already discussed and pretended to settle. One of my professors accused me of reinventing the wheel; true, alas.

I mean, here I was an English major and I had gone to college without ever having read any of the "classics!" Well, except for The Scarlet Letter and Cat in the Rain. And I did read a lot of Poe, but I didn't really absorb it, with the exception of The Gold-Bug. That one was cool.

I was really selective in my reading. Aside from schoolwork, I read only what interested me before I went to college. Books by George Barr McCutcheon, Anthony Hope, Rafael Sabatini, Jules Verne, and Sir H. Rider Haggard dominated my bookshelf. Oh, and can't forget Swiss Family Robinson by Johan(n) Wyss. I read that thing over and over again. Now *that* is a classic if there ever was one!

SFR is responsible for the fact that I know some people used to call rubber "caoutchouc." And that cochineal yields a lovely red dye. And that rat skins may be used to make felt. And that sharks' skin, polished, makes wonderful isinglass. And that one may make a very effective and protective dog collar from wildcat skin and nails (not that I would EVER do that!). And that wine and birdlime can effectively despatch a troupe of marauding monkeys. And that one can subdue an onager by biting through its ear (not that I would ever do THAT either!!). And that ostriches can be ridden if one but makes an appropriate bridle with open-and-shut blinders made from the joints of a beached whale. And that portable soup may be easily mistaken for glue. And that karatas fibers may be used to make candle wicks (and that cotton fibers will not do very well; "The mother had prepared some cotton wicks...which she declared would beat mine all hollow. [But they] emitted such a feeble light as to be nearly useless. At length even the mother had to admit that they would never do." Or something like that. I'm quoting from memory, which means it's not quite right). And that the air inside caves, even crystal caves, may be very poisonous; one should set off rockets to purify the air. And that clay may be found in marshy areas, which *could* possibly be so dangerous that one might have to grab onto one's dog's tail to be pulled from the marsh.

"Well, mother," says one of the boys (Jack, I think),"I can only tell you that I should not in all my days have found the clay if I had not slipped and fallen in it."

His mother replies, "This morning one would have thought your clay the result of a very arduous search indeed!"

Ha, ha. I loved that part. But again, I'm quoting from memory, so it's far from perfect. But you get the idea.

Hmm. I need to go read that again.

...

Wow...I *really* got off topic, didn't I? How do I *do* that? My mind wanders so easily these days, I tell you. *clears throat* Well, I'm signing off before I ramble any more.

*scowls at readers, who are clapping and cheering enthusiastically because the rambling is finally coming to an end*