The relationship regular citizens have with Congress is in some ways the same one we had with that weird, obscure side of our extended families back in the day when we were six years old; we didn’t know most of their names, but were forced to go out and have pizza with them. We didn’t have much of an immediate say in the pizza flavors because we were way too young and we didn’t eat too much, so all we could do was trust the grown-ups and their family authority-granted sense that they knew what they were doing, and hope that there wouldn’t be too much green stuff on the pizza they ordered for us.
Congress makes decisions that directly affect us, just like our obscure extended families, except that unlike our families they’re not, in any distant level, biologically coded to actually like most of us. They don’t know us in that deep, personal, I-heard-you-were-too-broke-afford-Taco-Bell-last-weekend level, and it’s silly to expect that they would, even though their say affect us individually.
Via: CBS News
All things considered, the most we could hope for in Congress, for fairness’ sake, would be a level of ethnic and gender representation that is even remotely fair. The racial and gender composition of the 114th Congress leaves something to be desired — 80 percent white, 80 percent male and 92 percent Christian.
On the bright side, those are some of the most diverse stats in American history. On the not-so-bright side, American history looks a little embarrassing right now.
Let’s think about what that composition can mean for a second. We are in one of those lecture-hall classes, one with exactly 100 people. Eighty male, twenty female. Eighty white, twenty non-white. Ninety-two Christian (and heck, maybe some of those agree with that intense Turlington guy who’s been raving about sodomy, the moral dangers of girls in tight jeans and Jimi Hendrix’s literal hellspawn status).
Via: Sock Addict
Topic of discussion: is the socks-and-sandals combo even remotely acceptable a dress choice, under any circumstances?
Considering how we have mostly white guys in the room, if we took a vote the answer would most likely be “yes.” Even though they are, you know, wrong. Socks-and-sandals aren’t acceptable. Ever. That’s the ultimate truth.
Someone who’s angry and wearing socks and sandals will ask, “But who gives me the right to say that?” What the fuck do I know about socks and sandals? I never wore them; I know absolutely nothing about how comfortable and practical that combo may be. All I have is this pretentious sense of aesthetics that’s grossly assaulted by the sight of guys in socks and sandals. Who the hell died and made my external perspective more important than the say of all the guys who actually wear socks and sandals?
No one. That’s the thing – my say on this particular matter is less legitimate than other people’s. Wouldn’t it suck, though, if there were eighty of me and twenty of you, and in the end we took a vote and decided that you’re not legally allowed to choose your own footwear?
Via: Feministing
Yes, it would. And unfortunately, that’s what we get in an unbalanced Congress, whose racial and gender composition doesn’t come remotely close to fairly representing the diversity of the population of the U.S. An overwhelmingly white Congress making decisions about immigration policies, an overwhelmingly male Congress making decisions about abortion, an overwhelmingly Christian Congress making decisions about marriage equality.
It’s not really a fair fight, is it?
Feature photo courtesy of: The New Yorker
