Suckerpunch, Boobs, Race Riot....The Makings of a Great Night

There was a pink ooze flowing under the streets of Urbana last night.

Walking to a party, Derek called for a high five from some Broseph, only to get punched in the stomach. I stepped between Derek and Brose Cuervo, trying to break it up, and when my head was turned, Bromagnun man SUCKERPUNCHES me in the eye. It didn't hurt and I am easily able to dodge this frat drunk's additional punches, I get a couple in, and we tussle to the ground. I'm on my back. When I realize he's not doing anything, because Derek and Stu were fish-hooking and tugging his hoodie, I throw a couple more in, and kick him off me. I put a choke hold on Brodney Dangerfield that I know for a fact is barred in pro wrestling. So I guess he starts to turn purple, Derek, Stu, and the girl Broner was with are pleading with me to stop, so I take him and throw him back in the mud. We begin walking away, and in typical bro-fashion, Broke stands up and starts challenging us again, walking towards us. I'm sick of his advances, and we just happened to pass an area rich in rocks, so, being without sin, I begin to hurl these rocks at the stupid Bromethius. I eventually peg him, and he eventually subsides, and walks away. Probably to bang or beat up that slut he was with.

Damn Frat Fucks.

So we're maxing at this party, I'm going around, bragging about my victory, icing my sucker punched eye for effect. Then, somehow, my friend Brock (not a bro term, new person) offends some stupid bimbo that happened to have big boobs. She follows him into every room, trying to verbally harass him, also trying to recruit guys to fight him fight for her. You should have seen this girl's eyes. She. Was. Insane. Well, eventually she is able to admit Brock is an engineer in exchange for him apologizing for saying she had big boobs.

I am as confused as you.

Then, as things are starting to calm down, some girl busts in to the party; asking if anyone inside can break up a fight outside. By now, I am a seasoned veteran of getting in the middle of fights, so I volunteer. I step outside to find two girls engaged in a harsh catfight, and no one is really stopping it from happening. So I grab the nearest girl to me and pull her back; trying to talk some sense to her. A particularly angry member of the opposing girl's team is on the edge of the porch, and we begin discussing how nobody wants to fight. He informs me of five hick friends next door that he doesn't want to have to call on. I repeat our earlier sentiment that no one wants to fight. But, I suppose at this point, the floodgates of adrenaline let loose, and he decides arbitrarily that Derek, in fact, wants to fight.

No he doesn't.

I have deja vu from about 2 hours prior and realize I don't want to be between Derek and another Douchebag. Meanwhile, the opposing girl is below the balcony standing in the driveway. She (an Asian girl) is insisting that I am a racist for restraining the girl (white) nearest me. Then a brown guy joins her rally, and adds that I am a member of the kkk. I have never felt more odd and prejudiced in my life. There's no way to persuade these people that what their saying is unfounded, because apparently I'm on team racist. I thought of a NOFX song from way back, so I begin singing; "I'll accept responsibility for what I've done, but not for who I am. Don't call me white, don't call me white."

What I don't understand is that they live at a house with supposedly five hicks waiting to fight.

So, being racially othered over my left shoulder, I turn back to the balcony, where the angry idiot from team Hick/Not Racist is jonsing for a fight. I'm pleading with this guy to not fight standing between him and Derek. I watch him grab a bottle and attempt to smash it on the side of the balcony. I am thinking "Is this happening??" His plan backfires, luckily, and the bottle falls out of his hand. Being without his phallic symbol lessons his will to fight. That, and the fact a police spotlight hits the balcony. I'm thinking "Thank God, the authorities, now I can finally leave this party." I zip up my muddy hoodie; hop a fence a peace out.

If any of this story makes no sense to you, trust me, it doesn't to me either. All I know is there was some bad blood east of the UofI campus last night. Maybe I should become a vigilante, or a bouncer, and separate fights for a living.

But all this has got me thinking about race. I have never been called a member of the kkk before. That was odd. Especially since they said this to because I broke up a fight. But here are my brief thoughts on race:

We are too simple as creatures to not focus on physical characteristics. Humans are dumb, on a whole. I feel that there are always going to be people with different physical characteristics, different cultural characteristics, different interests, tastes in music, hobbies, sex preferences, and etc. A lot of times, these different things overlap, but a lot of times they don't.

Recognizing a difference between you and the next guy is going to happen, but when something negative is involved (i.e. verbal harassment, denying employment, violence) that’s when shit become racist.

In trying to describe someone, you seek out the most general descriptors. It is a conversational norm to administer that delicate balance between detail and speed. I don't understand the stigma with saying, "the black guy," "the gay guy," "the kid who listens to phish" etc, if it is the shortest way of cuing him up in someone’s mind, and it is not done in a negative harsh or threatening way. There are people that would probably say I am othering these people, but I really don't feel this is the case.

These differences are apparent and obvious, and we can't pretend they don't exist. But the fact that these differences exist is no reason to act any differently towards another human being. I'm a Star Trek idealist; I would even extend this to include non-hostile humanoids from other star systems.



Please comment, I really need to know if I'm off-base, inherently racist, a champion fighter, or whatever.



Kevin "Bones" Walsh

Sometimes it's nice to walk through the mud. It helps you appreciate the sidewalk.