Fake posting is when one doesn’t really have anything to say so they find things that other people have created and post it simply to give their friends the impression that they are active.
I do not consider posting a photo or some sort of innocuous statement a valid post, because it doesn’t come from the mind of the person who posted it! I want to know what you think? I want to know how you feel about something that is going on in your life? That’s a post!
Recently, a former friend of mine posted a video that must have been made in 1963. It was about a white woman who was complaining that she had to sit next to a black lady, on a bus. While I know that there is still work to be done on the matter of racism, I do believe that we are well past that sort of thing and personally, I am bored with the topic!
However, I can honestly say that I have never been a racist of any kind. And as Martin Luther King once said, “It is not the color of ones skin that is important, but the content of their character!” I believe that! Not all people of any color are good people!
One year, in High School Shop Class, I worked all year on a sheet metal hammer. I turned shaft and gnarled the handle on a lathe, I shaped the head on a milling machine and hand polished it to a high shine, by hand. It was beautiful! I was walking to school with it, after showing it off to my father, on the day I was supposed to turn it in for a grade. I was sure I would get an “A.”
As I walked along, I was admiring it when three boys stopped me and one of them asked me for directions while the other two slipped behind me. As I was giving the first boy the directions he asked me for, the other two grabbed my arms. The boy standing in front of me grabbed my hammer, punched me in the face, and knocked me to the ground. Then they all ran off with my hammer and my “A.”
I failed Shop Class that year because I didn’t turn in my project! I didn’t even tell the Shop Class teacher why. I simply took the failing grade and moved on. Later, I saw the boy during recess with the hammer I had made. He was bragging about the fact that he had taken it from some white kid and turned it in to his Shop Class teacher and had gotten an ‘A.’
I hated those boys! But I didn’t hate them for the color of their skin. I hated them for the content of their character. And I believe that life has punished those boys much more severely than I could ever have!
But I still take satisfaction in the fact that my hammer got an “A!”
I am Kip Addotta