Who gives a shit what one white kid thinks?
Here’s a Frank King strip from almost exactly 100 years ago, just for the conservation of it.
I hate shaving but I hate having hair on my face more. I don’t mind having a little hair on my face but more than about a week’s worth gets uncomfortable and looks mad untidy. Even so, I let it go longer than I’d like way more often than I’d like.
I once grew a full beard. Pusht thru that itchy faze and I kind of liked it. Never trimmd or anything, just let it grow wild. Just to see what my true capacity for beard-growing was. Evry man should test it once in his lifetime, and may I tell you: given time, my capacity for beard-growing is prodigious. One of my coworkers took to calling me Tevye. I started it early in the fall and shaved it, all at once, in the dead of winter. I couldnt stand the way on the coldest days my breath would make the hair around my mouth wet. And I thought it would be warm in the winter. My beard was actually making me colder. I felt ripped off. Before I got rid of it I took a picture, which I can’t find now. Sad. I have no proof for my brag about my beard-growing capacity.
I said something to my dad once about how I hate shaving. He said, “me too.” When I was little, my dad’s “whiskers” were one of his defining physical characteristics for me. He would shave, and dress decently, on teaching days because he had to. The rest of the time he let it go.
But he told me that his father shaved evry single day, even when he was in the hospital. We Hieberts all have our compulsions. They staged an intervention once for my dad’s younger sister, an alcoholic and Rx addict (that’s what you do with interventions, you stage them); and the intervention guy went around the room and made evryone tell him what their addiction was. (I wasnt there by the way—this is hearsay.) My dad’s other sister said “food,” but I bet a more honest answer would have been “God.” That’s what a lot of our family is addicted to: God. Including my aforementioned grandfather, a teetotaler by the way.
For years I shaved the way my older brother taught me: with a Bic razor and bar soap I lathered with my hands. Sometimes I used my dad’s electric razor, and after I moved out I bought a crappy electric of my own but I never used it long. I used actual shaving cream for a little while but did not find it superior to just soap, which was cheaper. Eventually I upgraded from disposables and bought a cartridge razor. One with just two blades. At the time, three was becoming the norm and four had just been introduced. I don’t know how many they’re up to now. Does it track Fast & Furious movies these days? The two-blade model was cheaper than others and I used it for a two-digit number of years—gritting my teeth evry time I shelled out for the expensive cartridges, which wasnt often anyway ’cause I don’t shave more than once a week and I get a lot of shaves out of each blade—until just this week.
Thinking it would save money in the long run, and maybe result in a superior shave (tho to be honest the shaves I gave myself with my cartridge razor were more than satisfactory once I got my technique down), I finally pulld the trigger on something I’d been thinking about for gawd knows how long. I bought a round cake of Van Der Hagen shaving soap from Walgreens and I put it in the bottom of a coffee mug from the kitchen cabinet. I also bought some Nivea lotion. I got a cheapo shaving brush and some witch hazel off the internet and a Chinese safety razor from ebay. I put a blade in it out of a box of em I had bought at the supermarket one time I got glass in my foot (they workt great for getting that out).
After one trial I can say it is a much more pleasurable experience to shave this way. A lot of that is down to the smell of the soap. A lot of it’s the lotion too. That lotion is something I shldve started using a looong time ago. Days when I shave, my shirt collars can cut into my neck like the leaves of a corn stalk. Lotion all around my neck and a little starch on the inside of the collar and I got no irritation. I wore my collar open that day tho. I’ll see what happens when I fasten that top button and thro on a tie.
I see a couple red marks on the bottom of my neck, not too bad and I like to think they’ll be no more once I re-learn my technique. I need to learn to use a gentler touch and resist the urge to go over and over the same spot, at least not without painting on some more lather.
It felt good. Maybe it’ll even lead me to shave more often. I recommend it.
An American court-room claiming it can be color-blind is a drug addict claiming he can walk away after just one more hit.
[I]n 1990, in an issue of the American Sociological Review, E. M. Beck and Stewart Tolnay reported a strong correlation between cotton prices and lynchings in the post-bellum south. […] [P]oor whites, who were in direct competition with blacks for low skilled agricultural jobs, sought to force blacks out of these positions when the market experienced a downturn so when cotton prices were high, the number of lynchings decreased, but when cotton prices dropped, the number of lynchings rose considerably.
[ … ]
Dehumanization itself isn’t the initial impetus for mistreatment as much as it is a way to rationalize and defend mistreatment. […] Whites didn’t steal [indigenous Americans’] land because they were less than human; they framed indigenous people as less than human because they stole and desired to steal their land.
[Members of the dominant group] are led to believe their love is enough, that it’s enough to not say nigger or bitch and to decry the Klan and rapists, but that’s not nearly enough. Hate and lack of love have never been our problem (after all, many slave owners sincerely loved their slaves, but that love didn’t result in emancipation). Our problem is a society that fails to see the long term benefit of equal resource allocation, and resource hoarding isn’t necessarily a hateful enterprise. That’s what we’re combating: resource inequality: not hate.