Showing posts with label anger. Show all posts
Showing posts with label anger. Show all posts

Wednesday, June 20, 2012

Islam in America...who thinks what?

I don't normally find myself talking about 'real world' issues in this blog at all. There is more dreamy, abstract, poetry/prosy stuff or words that I just need to siphon from my mind to make room for more. However, there was an article showing up all over my twitter feed and email so I went ahead and read it. And got just a little upset. And angry. And confused.

To quote the article, "A Washington Post/ABC News poll taken in October 2001 found that 39 percent of Americans held unfavorable opinions of Islam. After dipping for a few years, the number rose to 46 percent in 2006 and reached 49 percent—basically half the population—in 2010, the last year the question was asked. (Other recent polls show similar results.)"

 And from another part of it:
“A mistrust of American Muslims by other Americans seems misplaced,” it concluded. This year, an analysis by the Triangle Center on Terrorism and Homeland Security also described the number of American Muslims involved in domestic terrorism since 2001 as “tiny.” “This study’s findings challenge Americans to be vigilant against the threat of homegrown terrorism while maintaining a responsible sense of proportion,” it said. And a 2011 Gallup survey found that American Muslims were the least likely of any major US religious group to consider attacks on civilians justified."

Yet, apparently, sizing up every man with a beard and a topi, and every woman with hijab as a potential terrorist or 'terrorist sympathizer' is quite common. To the extent that people consider Islam synonymous with violence and extremism; they consider Islam an abnormality, despite so many Muslims leading perfectly normal lives around them. Of course, the article does say that, according to a study, 62% of Americans have never met a Muslim, and this increases their hostility with Muslims in general; people who personally knew Muslims were less likely to think of them as part of a wholly 'evil' entity.

The article also talks about how, when a TV show called All-American Muslim was aired that showed 'normal' Muslim families living in the West, it was boycotted by some influential people with the notion:
“The show profiles only Muslims that appear to be ordinary folks while excluding many Islamic believers whose agenda poses a clear and present danger to liberties and traditional values that the majority of Americans cherish.”

Yes, that makes perfect sense. Because you should definitely JUDGE an entire community of people by the few troublemakers, not the 'ordinary folks', because Muslims clearly cannot live ordinary lives. They must have hidden motives that are all posed to destroying peace and freedom and whatever else the country stands for that they are living in. Do you ever blame the entire religious community when a person of that faith murders someone, and say this is because all people who follow the same religious beliefs must be potential murderers too? Which religion in the world promotes murder and terror over love and peace?! I don't know of any.


The article ends on a hopeful note, but I can't help feeling sick to my stomach. It seems like newspapers and televisions and easy streams of information like Facebook and Twitter have started limiting people's visions a lot. They consume tidbits of information non-stop throughout the day and don't even bother to go out and gain some knowledge themselves. Is it right to blindly believe what the media tells you without questioning it at all? Without considering that one could learn a bit about the issue themselves to figure out what the truth is and what isn't? I am just..surprised...how some people lap it all up without getting a dent in their conscience. Maybe try finding out even a tiny bit what Islam actually is? Or is it easier to just hop onto the hate-wagon because people are telling you that there is only hatred here, no compassion or sincerity? Easier than trying to reach out to people instead of constantly alienating them based on sheer ignorance.

I follow many bloggers who are not Muslims, many based in America. I have never felt the slightest bit uncomfortable interacting with any of them. I want to ask them, is this how it really is over there? Do they know any Muslims? Do they have any idea what Islam is actually about?


The article: Fear and Loathing of Islam



Tuesday, September 20, 2011

Turnabout


For a few days now, I've been trying to live full out. That means I've been working on my thesis but also doing whatever it is I feel like doing. Whatever it is I can do. It's led to this strange sensation that hit me yesterday that I felt like my old self. The old rida. From two years ago. And it was liberating. I felt like wild crazy me!

I have my bad moments that start during the quiet afternoons which I now hate. They are the times when, if my mind does not sleep, it rapidly descends into irrational thoughts of the mind-puddle type. Slimy, ugghh puddles. Hurtful things, u*ly things. Insecurities. Self-loathing. Strange images of deaths and pain and anger. Justified and unjustified frustration. The self-loathing is the worst: the idea that I despise myself and cannot gain the acceptance I need from myself to even make me get up and move.

My life two months from now is a large blank. It's scary. It's actually got gaping holes right now even, but I've been sloppily filling them up however adequately possible to feel whole. Hence, I have somehow subconsciously called in two-year-back me, the one who knows how to wear the armor and do all the required moves in it. She likes to be wild and spontaneous. She's the wall builder, and the one who resorts to being numb as a method of self-defense. It's an important aspect of my personality that I had lost while letting down my guard, letting it down quite, quite far. So for now, not feeling too deeply, or rather, not delving into places where my mind can stop to catch a breath and just ponder, is a good thing. I provide my head with enough constant background noise so it is not able to hear itself think (ugghh I know that was terrible).

I can spend most of the day, as a result, in a happy fireproof bubble. It kinda makes me wonder at how much of a sappy weakling I had become. All weepy-teary. Now I'm all unfeeling and wacky. Who wants caring sentimental me anyway?

Friday, May 20, 2011

Bruised.

There are two marks you can leave on somebody: one by love and one by the opposite of love. Either of them brings one similar emotion: a sudden flushing of the face - with shame? How, I ask, how can one not die of shame by the latter marking? How can one not wish they could sink under 8 feet of solid earth whenever they have to lay eyes on the mark they've left? How can they confront it without suddenly having to lower their eyes in utter humiliation and wish they could take it back or be suddenly and swiftly punished for it?
I can go on and on about this. I feel like I'm obsessing now, but only because the lack of 'obsession' from everyone else is twice as painful. The swift, smooth transition back to normality, shoving underneath the carpet even the subtle undercurrents that maybe there has been a bloody effing shift in the vibes of this home. Shoved. Underneath the carpet. Skeleton # 525 in the closet? Check.
I feel haunted by that skeleton. Haunted. It comes before my eyes again and again and again. My heart is constantly squeezed in a painful reminder and my lungs need to struggle to inflate and deflate. Am I alone in feeling, saying that things can never be the same?

Things will not, can not, ever be the same.
Markings of love. I close my eyes and try to dig up that image instead. Screw them tightly shut and reach out to shared heartbeats and whispered words of love. Surely, surely love is stronger than its evil nemesis? Its twisted opposite?

Love marks.