Morgan Freeman’s solution to the race problem: Stop talking about it.

Morgan Freeman doesn't want a Black History Month because "Black History is American History." On Sixty Minutes, Mike Wallace asked Freeman how we could solve America's race problem? Freeman's answer: "Stop talking about it. I'm going to stop calling you a white man, and I'm going to ask you to stop calling me a black man." I like this approach immensely, since there is no scientific basis for "race." I also offer a slightly different suggestion: All of us should acknowledge that we are all from Africa. Whenever people ask me about my ancestors, I tell I'm "African," because it is true, despite my outward appearance.

Specialists in race, both geneticists and anthropologists, maintain that modern ideas of race are . . . primarily historical constructions that reflect the pattern of contact between previously distinct populations in the colonial period.

Given recent findings, though, I shouldn't merely say that I'm "African." I should add, "With a touch of Neanderthal." And I should add one more thing to be even more accurate: I'm a descendant of many other critters, including sponges, fungi and bacteria. It's amazing how so many of us still put any emphasis on "race." It's time to admit that it was a ridiculous category to create in the first place, and that it has caused only mischief ever since. The characteristics associated with "race" are a infinitesimally small part of what it means to be a physical human being. It's time to bring our culture in line with our physical reality.

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The gods swat back the corporations who think they own the Fourth of July

Last year I expressed great frustration with corporations who have no compunctions hoisting their own profit-tool logos on the same flag poles as American Flags. And they choose to do this on America's most holy of civic holidays. I first noticed this crass display last year at the biggest Fourth of July celebration in Fair St. Louis. What's the problem with allowing corporate logos to flap in the wind right next to Old Glory? I can't think of a bigger insult to the People of the United States at a time when big money, mostly corporate money, has essentially purchased Congress, divesting ordinary people of the ability to run their own country. If there is anything that the Fourth of July is supposed to represent it is the notion that the governed should be self-governed (but do also check out this excellent recent article by Mark Tiedemann, who considers what it really means to be patriotic).

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What Being An American Means To Me

I am not given to setting out pronouncements like this very often, but in light of the last several years I thought it might be worthwhile to do so on the occasion of the 236th anniversary of our declared independence. I don’t think in terms of demonstrating my love of country. My affection for my home is simply a given, a background hum, a constant, foundational reality that is reflexively true. This is the house in which I grew up. I know its walls, its ceiling, its floors, the steps to the attic, the verge, and every shadow that moves with the sun through all the windows. I live here; its existence contours my thinking, is the starting place of my feelings. The house itself is an old friend, a reliable companion, a welcoming space, both mental and physical, that I can no more dislike or reject than I can stop breathing. But some of the furniture...that’s different. I am an American. I don’t have to prove that to anyone. I carry it with me, inside, my cells are suffused with it. I do not have to wear a flag on my lapel, hang one in front of my house, or publicly pledge an oath to it for the convenience of those who question my political sentiments. Anyone who says I should or ought or have to does not understand the nature of what they request or the substance of my refusal to accommodate them. They do not understand that public affirmations like that become a fetish and serve only to divide, to make people pass a test they should—because we are free—never have to take. [More . . . ]

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Why rich kids hate their parents

I'm not convinced that most rich kids hate their parents, but there are presumably some who do. I also know many non-rich kids who don't get along with their parents. Franco Lombardo says many rich kids hate their parents in his new book, "The Great White Elephant: Why Rich Kids Hate Their Parents." Lombardo bases his claim on the failure of 70% of rich families to pass their wealth-making ability onto the next generation intact. This reminds me of a proverb:

The first generation in a family makes money (goes from rags to riches); the second generation holds or keeps the money; and the third generation squanders or loses the money (and so goes back to rags).
In this report by CNBC, he gives three reasons:
First, wealthy parents don't say "no" enough. "A child grows up with a sense that they get whatever they want," Lombardo says. "When they go out into the world and the world tells them 'no," they're angry. And they resent their parents." The second cause is time. Wealthy parents are often absent parents, and the kids feel abandoned. . . . The third reason is society , , , makes fun of rich kids. So parents tell their kids at an early age to hide their wealth. When the kids grow up, they feel that a big part of their identity has to remain hidden - and they blame their parents.
These reasons make some sense to me, but I like to see some numbers quantifying this supposed hate. I'd like to know who we "know" that rich kids hate the parents any more than non-rich kids hate their parents.

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