All these years I thought I was an Italian-American and now it turns out I'm a Monkey-American.
I found out by getting into an argument with a raving, ignorant, stupid bigot who thinks that stereotypes and cultures are the same thing and, to him, it's logical that, if you accept a positive stereotype, you MUST (his caps--apparently he's one of those people who think that caps make it true) accept the negative stereotype.
For example, if someone compliments a French person on French cuisine, the French person MUST accept the fact that the French drive like maniacs.
The same goes for the rest of us. If I want to accept a compliment on Italian cooking, I MUST accept responsability for the Mafia.
He calls these rules and, he says, rules can't be changed. I guess he hasn't noticed that rules are changed all the time. He calls these facts. But, while cultures may be facts, a stereotype is an opinion--and it's an opinion formed by stupid people who don't know all the facts and are making guesses convenient to them based on a brief experience with one or two members of a group.
And, since these are the rules and the facts, he thinks he has the right to tell everyone what they are and what they can and can not do. You know, sort of like God.
Well, speaking of Italian cooking, I can't cook worth a damn. But that's just one reason I'm not allowed to be Italian-American.
Here's the other reason. Did you know that the garbage pails of Italians (I think he meant Italian-Americans but I don't think he knows the difference) reek of garlic? In all the years I've been trying to tell bigots how stupid and ignorant they are, I really never knew that the garbage pails of Italian-Americans reek of garlic. Of course, when speaking of the smell of garlic, I would prefer the word perfume, and maybe that's part of the reason.
The point here is that my garbage doesn't waft the delicious scent of garlic.
You know those cramps you sometimes get in your legs in the middle of the night? Well, a friend told me they're caused by not getting enough potassium. So I started eating bananas.
Now my garbage pail reeks of banana peels.
So, like I said, I'm not really Italian-American. I'm Monkey-American.
