The Color of One’s Skin
Today is one of those days when discrimination is proudly practiced in America. As I went through the grocery this afternoon, I saw the poor little ones just sitting there. They were off to the side; cast away almost like trash based solely on the color of their skin. They weren’t the popular colors. They were “different.” Pastels aren’t in after Easter. As though the chocolaty substance inside was any different. The regular red, blue and green are apparantly superior to their pastel cousins. On certain days throughout the year “seasonal colors” only earn half, if that, of what their more vibrantly-colored relations can pull in.
While I’m disgusted, disgusted I tell you, about such blatant discrimination, I also have to confess I’ve supported it in the past. Yes, just two hours ago, a lifetime to some species of fruit flies, I did a bad thing. As bad as if I’d supported artificial puppy treats or bought clothing made by oppressed people without a good media campaign. I bought the pastel M&Ms at half the price charged for their vibrant counterparts. I knew they could demand less money solely because of the color of their skin, and exploited them to the fullest extent possible.
Hopefully the chocolate fix will help me get through this period of guilt and contrition.


