Fooling Around

Fool's Gold, a way for ignorance
to breed happiness if believed
to be gold

Daisy once said, "I hope she'll be a fool-that's the best thing a girl can be in this world..." (Fitzgerald 21). How inexplicably sad. As a child or even a teenager, you hear people say "ignorance is bliss!" I think the worst part about growing up is realizing that it's true.

How wonderful it must feel to be a fool! To be unaware of the sadness that surrounds you. To be blissful in your ignorance. Once you see the world for the way that it is-flawed-you can never go back to being the fool that you once were. That's why Daisy explains that it is best for her daughter to be a fool. Foolish people believe in love at first sight, and money, and eternal happiness, and things that make life seem better than it is.

A Fool, whose job it is
to be happy

In essence, we all are foolish in some way. Anything that really draws away from the truth of the world is an act of foolishness. Sitcoms, comedies, dramas, entertainment in general. A way to escape the world and submerge ourselves in make believe. It really is foolish.

Not to mention the incessant need to own things and use things and throw them away. The way that people turn a blind eye to things they would rather not acknowledge is another way of acting foolish.

Fools believe in perpetual good. They would believe lies meant to make them feel better such as, "I'm not cheating on you, I love you!" or "No, nothing bad happened today." Completely wrapped up in their own world, they would be able to cocoon themselves in some strange version of reality, but perhaps that is what makes them happy.

a (cute) wise old owl

I guess the really horrible thing is to be wise. To be wise is to have lived through pain. Yes, the wise have learned from it, but it begs the question, wouldn't it be better to not have lived through the pain at all?

Lyrics of the week: "Wise men say only fools rush in, but I can't help falling in love with you" from Can't Help Falling In Love by Elvis.

Because love at first sight is probably the most foolish of all kind.

The Guiltiest Hand

a cute little stick man carrying his not
so cute guilt

Remember how in elementary and middle school, when we were learning about bullying, they said if you didn't stand up to the bully you were just as bad as one? As any normally-functioning human, it was because you had a sense of guilt. Did you really want to be the reason a poor kid gets beat up?

They say that guilt is one of the heaviest things a soul can carry. That it stays with you always. Voltaire once said, "Every man is guilty of the good he did not do."


Even I still catch myself feeling guilty about things that nobody probably remembers or cares about. Like not inviting some friends to a party, saying something that stung in an argument, or even that one time I made my brother cry in Chicago when we were little. Guilt is like this little book you carry with you, adding new names and events to it each day. But the book never runs out of pages. It just gets thicker and heavier and you still have to carry it every day.

the cause of my Chicago-based guilt

To me, I think that is what The Bluest Eye came from. Although yes, I know it is a fictional story, Morrison is definitely living with some kind of guilt about not changing the world for the better. "It's too late. At least on the edge of my town... It's much, much, much too late" (Morrison 206).

If we are guilty of the good we have not done, then there is a lot to be guilty about. Look at the world around us. It's being torn apart by terrorist attacks, natural disasters, and just mean people in general. So with this book, Morrison forces us to take a look at ourselves. Is it too late? Can we still right our wrongs? Or must we carry this guilt forever?

Looking back on the novel, I think Morrison used it as a medium to not only ease her sense of guilt, but to bring us into touch with our own.

Lyrics of the week: "Do I divide and fall apart? Cause my bright is too slight to hold back all my dark... And at the gates does Thomas ask to see my hands?" from Jesus Christ by Brand New.

Race and Religion

I write this with heavy eyes, and a heavy heart. After watching the news today I was completely disappointed in the world. The Paris terrorist attacks were nothing like the way that I wanted my Friday night to go. But after a bit of a personal discussion (the details will not be revealed) with my new BFF who gets weirdly philosophical past 11:30 (his bedtime), I came to see a connection between the conflict of race in The Bluest Eye and religion in India.

Now I would go back and just discuss the effect of racism in the past but I kind of already did that. (See here if you missed it and are slightly curious). So I decided to take it back to my homeland. Back when those Brits ruled us over for spices I cannot seem to find in their food (sorry, but seriously I went to Scotland and the only thing on their fish was salt). (I just realized salt can be used as a pun and now I'm laughing alone in my room at 2 a.m.). Anyway, so once India gained its independence, the British-apparently knowing best how to govern people-decided to split the country up based on religion.

A Train From Punjab During
The Partition

See that would have been all fine and dandy, if it weren't for the fact that IT RUINED INDIA. Before the Par
tition, Muslims and Hindus may have gotten into a few fights, but it is nothing compared to what has happened since August of 1947. Every Hindu living in now-Pakistan was required by law to move to current day India, and vice versa. As is imaginable, this was met with some resistance and anger, but the anger lives on today. The same disgust I feel with the racism in Toni Morrison's novel is what I feel when I think about the divide between Hindus and Muslims. Each side carries its own stories, however I can only represent those of a Hindu's.

Both of my grandparents were born into wealthy families, but that was before they were forced to move. In fear of being killed, they left everything behind and travelled to India. Here, they were poor. They had nothing. And when my father and aunt were born, they could only afford to live in a small shack that was meant as a servant's quarters. In Pakistan, Muslims would sometimes find Hindus and kill them. The same went for Hindus in India, they killed Muslims out of pure... (I cannot find a word to justify this violence, because no justification exists.)

In some instances, there was only a little bit of road between the two paths in the Partition. People crossed these paths only to kill.

The Gandhi Movie

There was a great man living during the Partition, his name may sound familiar. Gandhi? Have you heard of him? Well whether you have or haven't I would say you should watch the British-made film "Gandhi" because it makes even the strongest men in my family cry. Here's a clip. (Fun fact: my grandma met Gandhi on his salt march!)

The divide between Muslims and Hindus still survives to this day. Sometimes people are burned alive for their religion, or shunned, or even considered as off-limits to date or marry. It seems quite like the racism that is present in Morrison's novel. The effects of it last to the present, as do the effects of the Partition. In both instances, violence is always apparent. Whether it be the beating of slaves, or the murder of children in India, there is no excuse for this blackness on the history books of the world.

A Riot During The Partition

Both the racism and the divides between Muslims and Hindus have both been carried to America. And here, if you look closely, you will find them "festering" (Morrison 34) in a wound that should have been disinfected long ago.

I, myself, cannot understand why people can't just get along. I know it is harder than it seems, but it is the one thing that I want most in this world. At least I wish we could get over race and religion, which would probably solve almost every problem in the world. Race and religion do not determine a person's character.

This probably should be a lot more emotional, but for now I am tired and thinking about all of the bad parts of the world are making my soul feel heavy.

"How are we going to change the world if all we do is distance ourselves more?" -Amun Mehta, texted at 12:03 a.m. (That's right, the aforementioned new BFF. See Ms. Valentino? I don't hate him! We get along!)

Lyrics of the week: "So may the sunrise bring hope where it once was forgotten... mother I lost it, all of the fear of the Lord I was given" from Upward Over the Mountain by Iron & Wine.

Because all of the goodness instilled by the Lord was lost in both of these atrocious cycles of hatred. And may there be a sunrise where it is all gone.

Beauty is The Eyes of The Powerful

Blue(ish) vs. Brown eyes

The idea of beauty is different everywhere, and can even change over time, but the general concept of beautiful and ugly remain set in stone for the most part. "All things in her are flux and anticipation. But her blackness is static and dread" (Morrison 47).

Beauty is reflective of those that are in power. In the novel, white beauty is because of white power. This is true of many different situations. During times of racism and opposition to Civil Rights, those in power were those with European features. Hence the preference of white skin to black skin, blue eyes to brown eyes, and
dirty to clean.

an actual picture I took on
my last trip to India

Right now, I'm watching an Indian movie and all I can think about is the similarity. In India, they literally market products to make skin look whiter. Everybody wants that same kind of beauty. So much so, that people even use only light skinned people in advertisements, especially those that deal with something such as a matrimonial.

relationship goals!!!

The fact that beauty is a social construct based on power presents itself in many cases. As mentioned before, America and India. Both which had European ideals in power, India with the British Rule. Not only this, but in times such as with war, the "ideal woman" would probably be considered as a little bit fat right now. This is because during war rations, those in power could still eat, were ric

Marilyn

h enough to still eat, and so had bigger waists. Perhaps this was why Marilyn Monroe was revered with hips of 35 inches while Taylor Swift has hips of 33.

Mauritania is such a poor country that their people send their daughter to fat camp. The more they eat, they better chance they have of getting married. Food is scarce so fat is good. And not only fat, but obesity. Read about it here.

Beauty is different in a lot of geographical areas, but it always comes from those in power.


Lyrics of the week: "Cause I'd be lost forever if you slipped away, blue eyes you're the reason for my change" from Blue Eyes by Timmy Curran.

Barbies Are Worse Than Junior Year

Read my title. Read it again. Good. Now read it again.

When I was little, Barbies were basically my life. My older cousin had a small laundry basket FULL of them and once she outgrew them, they became mine. Of course, I had to add to the collection. Obsessions are fleeting but intense for me. I added more and more to my Barbie collection and played
with them whenever I was bored. Soon after that, I moved on to Polly Pockets and the rest of the kinds of toys that little girls are obsessed with.

Each toy in itself was different. Perhaps the eyes were slanted at another angle, the nose just a little bit sharper, or the skin a little bit darker. But looking back at it now, they all had the same underlying tone: beauty.

Beauty is something that I have struggled with for many years.

Just as I become comfortable in my own skin, something comes along to change my views. I always want my legs to be a little bit longer or my stomach a little bit flatter. I always find something to
dislike about myself. It sounds twisted, but I'm not alone. In fact (as we learned in psych) a study had once shown that 99% of women had something about themselves that they would want to change.

If Barbie were real

That's disgusting. It's just like in The Bluest Eyes. Toni Morrison says that beauty is "something one could do" (11.) There is no concrete definition for beauty, perhaps because it is different from person to person, but also because it is-in my opinion-unachievable.

Barbie's standards are literally unachievable. She sets this standard for little girls of a kind of beauty that is too hard to meet. She sets children up for failure and low self esteem. Look at this post of the most beautiful women. Most of them look like real life Barbies. Even if we don't carry a picture of a Barbie around as inspiration, the same kind of looks that she embodies show up in the people that we idolize.

That is why Barbie is worse than junior year. Junior year, no offense. but you suck. Barbie suck more. Junior year is something that you need to go through. But me? I could have gone through life fine if I wasn't kind of conditioned by society to strive to be a variation of Barbie.

Barbie is so useless. On top of necessary stress (most of which can even be argued against as unnecessary), she adds stress to the fact that everyone has to strive to become someone else's version of beautiful. This version of someone else has even been so deeply ingrained in everyone that they believe it to be their own sense of beauty.

A "Real" Barbie

Where is the Barbie with a layer of fat on her stomach? Where is the Barbie with the hairy arms? Where is the Barbie with her thighs touching? Where is the Barbie that is supposed to make me feel good about myself? Because all I see is something that will only cause me to pick apart myself.

Everyone and everything has beauty in them, but we're all being controlled by a 11.5 inches of cheap plastic.

Lyrics of the week: "I'm a Barbie girl, in the Barbie world" from Barbie Girl by Aqua.