I don't find JFK's assassination overly interesting. Unfortunate, I know, since we are beginning a four hundred page book about conspiracy theories surrounding the assassination. But it just doesn't draw me in. I do find conspiracy theories interesting. I like to hear about the NSA and the ways that the government is controlling our lives as much as anybody else. But present conspiracies are more interesting than past conspiracies.
One of the reasons for my apathy is that there is nothing about the government's version of the story (the little that I know about it) that I find difficult to believe. I don't find it hard to believe that a 24-year-old nobody with little education and no real role in any government or military activities could kill the President. I recognize that during Kennedy's presidency, people viewed him as almost a deity. He was loved, revered, even though some of his policies were questionable. JFK and Jackie were role models for the entire country. But he was only human, and the people who were guarding him were human. At its core, it was one man killing another, something that has happened countless times over the course of history. He was a political leader--political leaders are killed all the time, whether by rebels or complete lunatics.
I also do not find it that hard to believe that the government might have been behind that. I grew up post-9/11. I have grown up in a society that does not entirely trust its government. Recent scandals with the NSA have made the government even more suspect. No one I know has complete faith in the government. There are many countries that have corrupt governments; as cynical as this may sound, I do not find it that difficult to see that ours might be one of them.
Finally, I believe that no one will really know what happened, and that what happened in the country after JFK's assassination is more interesting that the conspiracy theories that surround the actual murder. JFK was killed--that is terrible. But the political implications of his death, rather than the governments' possible role in it, are more important to understand because they have led us to where we are today. Contemplating the details of JFK's assassination has gotten us nowhere.
Tuesday, April 15, 2014
Sunday, April 13, 2014
How Kevin and Dana's Relationship Applies to Affirmative Action
During panel presentations this week, there was a paper entitled "Do I look like someone you can come home to from wherever you may be going: Remapping Interracial Anxiety in Octavia Butler's Kindred", and one of the author's arguments was that it is impossible to be colorblind--people must recognize the history of racial differences and conflicts that have occurred in this country. It struck me that this argument is relevant to the questions about affirmative action that have been coming up in college admissions discussions lately. Recently, about eight states have virtually banned the use of race as a factor in college admissions, and the Supreme Court has made it clear that if colleges intend to consider race, they must prove that "considering race is absolutely necessary to maintaining diversity". A court case last year, Fisher v. University if Texas, ruled that the use of race in determining college admissions was legal, but it might be brought up again in court with the different ruling. Some people argue that affirmative action is not a good thing because our goal should be a color-blind society rather than one that is aware of race and working to make different races more equal in education, and later income and job opportunities.
However, in the light of this book, it seems like bad logic. Butler seems to be saying that examining the past is a good thing for both the majority and minorities through Kevin and Dana's relationship. At first, there seem to be some unspoken tensions between Kevin and Dana; although they try to ignore them, they both realize that they do come from different backgrounds. When they spoke to their families, they essentially rejected them; it would be difficult not to feel some regret and tension about that. After they come back from the 1800s they seem to understand each other more, because they both realize that their backgrounds and their histories are very different. This applies to affirmative action because the history between whites and other races in America has always been filled with tension, and must be understood. While people do not like talking in terms of race, that is often the only way to address the issue. In principle, affirmative action at least recognizes this history, rather than trying to put it behind us. It is a gesture that says we want people to be more equal because we were not always and that is not right.
However, in the light of this book, it seems like bad logic. Butler seems to be saying that examining the past is a good thing for both the majority and minorities through Kevin and Dana's relationship. At first, there seem to be some unspoken tensions between Kevin and Dana; although they try to ignore them, they both realize that they do come from different backgrounds. When they spoke to their families, they essentially rejected them; it would be difficult not to feel some regret and tension about that. After they come back from the 1800s they seem to understand each other more, because they both realize that their backgrounds and their histories are very different. This applies to affirmative action because the history between whites and other races in America has always been filled with tension, and must be understood. While people do not like talking in terms of race, that is often the only way to address the issue. In principle, affirmative action at least recognizes this history, rather than trying to put it behind us. It is a gesture that says we want people to be more equal because we were not always and that is not right.
Monday, April 7, 2014
Rufus: Man or Monster?
Like Dana, I find it hard to not forgive Rufus, even when he has done something horrible and manipulative, so it surprises me that everyone in the class seems to have hardly any sympathy for him. He is actually in quite a bad situation; he grew up with a crazy woman for a mother, and a cold father, and his only "friends" as a child--Nigel and Alice--are unavailable to him (for friendship and love respectively) as he grows older. (Some people will probably complain at this point that I am trying the lessen the cruelty of the slave owners; I recognize that they did many terrible things, but the slaveholders were still complex people). Today we would probably look at his erratic behavior and, provided he wasn't enslaving anyone in the present time, diagnose him with a variety of psychiatric disorders related to neglect and identity confusion. I don't think he is bad to the core, and that is why I still sometimes find him sympathetic.
Strangely, I found it harder to like Kevin when he comes back after five years in the nineteenth century than to like Rufus throughout the novel. It must have been the contrast between Kevin's earlier kindness and his harshness when he returns to the present. The situation with Kevin is also more confused because although he usually seems very progressive and egalitarian, he exhibits flashes on strange behavior that makes you question his relationship with Dana. His insistence about her typing his manuscripts makes him seem less egalitarian and modern than he may have seemed at first. Of course, Rufus is no more predictable, but his unpredictability is expected because he lived in a time where it was okay to be kind sometimes and cruel other times. This makes him almost easier to understand.
Finally, I'd like to comment on a remark that was made in class last week. Someone said something about whether or not Rufus was a "monster". I would like to argue that he cannot be a monster because Kindred is not a book about Dana's relationship with a monster. This is not a story about a monster, because a monster can exist in many time, and what makes this book so complicated and interesting in the effect of an era on a person's personality. I don't like the phrase "a man of his time" --it seems like a cop-out, a way to avoid passing judgement or blame--but I think there is a lot of validity to the phrase. Rufus was formed by his time, and although he has unique characteristics (we don't know if he was kinder or crueler than most of the men around him, though he was certainly different), I cannot imagine that he would act the same way in 1976 as he did in 1815.
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