Skin Pigment Quotes

It was the dandelion principle! To some people a dandelion might look like a weed, but to others that same plant can be so much more. To an herbalist, it’s a medicine—a way of detoxifying the liver, clearing the skin, and strengthening the eyes. To a painter, it’s a pigment; to a hippie, a crown; a child, a wish. To a butterfly, it’s sustenance; to a bee, a mating bed; to an ant, one point in a vast olfactory atlas.

For years, I declined to fill in the form for my Senate press credential that asked me to state my 'race,' unless I was permitted to put 'human.' The form had to be completed under penalty of perjury, so I could not in conscience put 'white,' which is not even a color let alone a 'race,' and I sternly declined to put 'Caucasian,' which is an exploded term from a discredited ethnology. Surely the essential and unarguable core of King's campaign was the insistence that pigmentation was a false measure: a false measure of mankind (yes, mankind) and an inheritance from a time of great ignorance and stupidity and cruelty, when one drop of blood could make you 'black.

Melanin is the black pigment which permits skins to appear other than white (black, brown, red and yellow). Melanin pigment coloration is the norm for the hue-man family. If there are non-white readers who disagree with this presentation of white rejection of the white-skinned self, may I refer you to the literature on the currently developing sun-tanning parlors.

Sacha snaked one arm out from beneath the blankets and reached toward Cinder, grasping her wrist where skin met metal. Cinder squirmed, trying to pull away, but Sacha held tight. Her hand was marked by bluish pigment around her yellowed fingernails.

My God, what do we want? What does any human being want? Take away an accident of pigmentation of a thin layer of our outer skin and there is no difference between me and anyone else. All we want is for that trivial difference to make no difference. What can I say to a man who asks that? All I can do is try to explain to him why he asks the question. You have looked at us for years as different from you that you may never see us really. You don’t understand because you think of us as second-class humans. We have been passive and accommodating through so many years of your insults and delays that you think the way things used to be is normal. When the good-natured, spiritual-singing boys and girls rise up against the white man and demand to be treated like he is, you are bewildered. All we want is what you want, no less and no more. (Chapter 13).

There is another important difference as well. Human eyes have three visual pigments, allowing us to see color. Octopuses have only one—which would make these masters of camouflage, commanding a glittering rainbow of colors, technically color-blind. How, then, does the octopus decide what colors to turn? New evidence suggests cephalopods might be able to see with their skin.

Mattia was right: the days had slipped over her skin like a solvent, one after the other, each removing a very thin layer of pigment from her tattoo, and from both of their memories. The outlines, like the circumstances, were still there, black and well delineated, but the colors had merged together until they faded into a dull, uniform tonality, a neutral absence of meaning.

How does one undermine the framework of racial reasoning? By dismantling each pillar slowly and systematically. The fundamental aim of this undermining and dismantling is to replace racial reasoning with moral reasoning, to understand the black freedom struggle not as an affair of skin pigmentation and racial phenotype but rather as a matter of ethical principles and wise politics, and to combat the black nationalist attempt to subordinate the issues and interests of black women by linking mature black self-love and self-respect to egalitarian relations within and outside black communities. The failure of nerve of black leadership is its refusal to undermine and dismantle the framework of racial reasoning.

You stupid bastard, does what you’re fighting for look so real now? Skin pigment. What a laugh! Why not eye color? Too bad nobody ever thought of that. It cuts it a little finer, but basically it’s the same thing.

I am every color of the spectrum.

And, talking about radiation, few wonder why, after hundreds of million of years of having our skins exposed to sun rays, we suddenly need so much protection from them—is it that our exposure is more harmful than before because of changes in the atmosphere, or populations living in an environment mismatching the pigmentation of their skin—or rather, that makers of sun protection products need to make some profits?

The takeaway message here, as Jablonski points out, is that there is no such thing as different races of humans. Any differences we traditionally associate with race are a product of our need for vitamin D and our relationship to the Sun. Just a few clusters of genes control skin color; the changes in skin color are recent; they’ve gone back and forth with migrations; they are not the same even among two groups with similarly dark skin; and they are tiny compared to the total human genome. So skin color and “race” are neither significant nor consistent defining traits. We all descended from the same African ancestors, with little genetic separation from each other. The different colors or tones of skin are the result of an evolutionary response to ultraviolet light in local environments. Everybody has brown skin tinted by the pigment melanin. Some people have light brown skin. Some people have dark brown skin. But we all are brown, brown, brown.

I am black, I am white, and I am every color in-between.

washed over me for the first time in my life just how much importance the world had ascribed to skin pigment,

better if God had deleted skin pigment altogether

Scientists found that there are exactly as many skin pigment colors to the various races of this world as there are different colors of soil [dirt].

Now I am a woman of bone and skin, the patches of pigmentation like a map of a rocky archipelago; I am obdurate and uncooperative, drifting on a sea of memory between islands of lucidity.

...it was my father who had taught me to love books for themselves, the smell of the vellum and paper, the rare authority of the pages. "Here, do you see this marvelous book, the skins of 182 sheep," he once pronounced as he slapped his hand down on the stamped leather cover boards. "The book is a flock, a jewel, a cemetery, a lantern, a garden, a piss pot; pigments ground of precious minerals, charred bone, lamp soot, rare plants and insects. Pigments formed at the corrosion of copper plates suspended above urine.

Aster, occasionally, through no will of her own, worried she wasn’t pretty enough, and why? Pretty was a strange thing to concern oneself over. Pretty was subjective and fallacious. Pretty couldn’t be replicated in a lab. She, as much as anyone, enjoyed the prismatic sweep of amaranth in bloom and the geography of animalian bodies. Yet when applied to people, it didn’t jive with her that pretty was meant for some and not others. More pressingly, it didn’t jive with Aster that some days she wanted to be one of those folks who was prettier than the other folks. It was like wanting to be more vanadium-based, or wanting to have orange-pigmented skin—arbitrary, bizarre, pointless. Still, she wanted it, and Theo made her feel like it was already so.

it washed over me for the first time in my life just how much importance the world had ascribed to skin pigment, how lately it seemed that skin pigment was the sun and everything else in the universe was the orbiting planets.

Hello? Tonight I am going to the Restaurant, where I will eat a killed and burned-up bird and drink old purple grapes and also I will gulp clear water that used to have bugs and poop and poison in it but has been cleaned up so that it doesn’t make us blow chunks. Oh Joy I am going to the Restaurant and I am just drooling at the thought of the killed and burned bird and I want to sip the grape gunk and so I put skin-colored paint all over my face and I dab pasty red pigment on my lips and swish peachy powder on my cheeks and I take a pencil and draw an eye-shaped line around my eye so that people know where my blinkers are.

Race is one millimeter deep. Intrepidly attending the dissection of a corpse", Bryson quotes the surgeon who pulled back a minute layer of skin and said: “That’s all that race is – a sliver of epidermis.” As we spread across the world, some people are thought to have evolved lighter skin in order to glean vitamin D from weaker sunlight. Throughout human history, people have “de-pigmented” and “re-pigmented” to suit their environment. Biologically, skin colour is just “a reaction to sunlight”, Bryson quotes the anthropologist Nina Jablonski as saying. She adds: “And yet look how many people have been enslaved or hated or lynched or deprived of fundamental rights through history because of the colour of their skin.

Probably in no other place on earth, is there a gathering of all mankind with different skin pigmentation, hair colours and textures, eye colours, tongues, cultures, beliefs or lack of any thereof, inclinations, and desires, and they peacefully (mostly) coexist. This is what makes America, the United States.

Racial differences are largely adaptations to climate. Skin pigment was a sunscreen for the tropics, eyelid folds were goggles for the tundra. The parts of the body that face the elements are also the parts that face the eyes of other people, which fools them into thinking that racial differences run deeper than they really do.

It washed over me for the first time in my life how much importance the world had ascribed to skin pigment, how lately it seemed that skin pigment was the sun and everything else in the universe was the orbiting planets. Ever since school let out this summer, it had been nothing but skin pigment every livelong day. I was sick of i.

It washed over me for the first time in my life how much importance the world had ascribed to skin pigment, how lately it seemed that skin pigment was the sun and everything else in the universe was the orbiting planets. Ever since school let out this summer, it had been nothing but skin pigment every livelong day. I was sick of it.

…It washed over me for the first time in my life how much importance the world had ascribed to skin pigment, how lately it seemed that skin pigment was the sun and everything else in the universe was the orbiting planets. Ever since school let out this summer, it had been nothing but skin pigment every livelong day. I was sick of it.

Roosevelt set his sights on a strikingly tall man striding into camp alongside one of the native’s harems. He had no female companions, yet he was also naked and carried a spear and bow in Nhambiquara fashion. As the man approached, Roosevelt’s mouth lay agape noticing that he bore a full beard and his skin pigmentation was unquestionably white, and yet he was weathered to a leathery brown. The

the migration patterns were the migration patterns solely of people of colour until 7000 years ago or later, when the first Caucasians appeared on earth, and the pigmentation of “white” skin only appeared 1000 years later.

In my travels on the surface, I once met a man who wore his religious beliefs like a badge of honor upon the sleeves of his tunic. "I am a Gondsman!" he proudly told me as we sat beside eachother at a tavern bar, I sipping my wind, and he, I fear, partaking a bit too much of his more potent drink. He went on to explain the premise of his religion, his very reason for being, that all things were based in science, in mechanics and in discovery. He even asked if he could take a piece of my flesh, that he might study it to determine why the skin of the drow elf is black. "What element is missing," he wondered, "that makes your race different from your surface kin?" I think that the Gondsman honestly believed his claim that if he could merely find the various elements that comprised the drow skin, he might affect a change in that pigmentation to make the dark elves more akin to their surface relatives. And, given his devotion, almost fanaticism, it seemed to me as if he felt he could affect a change in more than physical appearance. Because, in his view of the world, all things could be so explained and corrected. How could i even begin to enlighten him to the complexity? How could i show him the variations between drow and surface elf in the very view of the world resulting from eons of walking widely disparate roads? To a Gondsman fanatic, everything can be broken down, taken apart and put back together. Even a wizard's magic might be no more than a way of conveying universal energies - and that, too, might one day be replicated. My Gondsman companion promised me that he and his fellow inventor priests would one day replicate every spell in any wizard's repertoire, using natural elements in the proper combinations. But there was no mention of the discipline any wizard must attain as he perfects his craft. There was no mention of the fact that powerful wizardly magic is not given to anyone, but rather, is earned, day by day, year by year and decade by decade. It is a lifelong pursuit with gradual increase in power, as mystical as it is secular. So it is with the warrior. The Gondsman spoke of some weapon called an arquebus, a tubular missile thrower with many times the power of the strongest crossbow. Such a weapon strikes terror into the heart of the true warrior, and not because he fears that he will fall victim to it, or even that he fears it will one day replace him. Such weapons offend because the true warrior understands that while one is learning how to use a sword, one should also be learning why and when to use a sword. To grant the power of a weapon master to anyone at all, without effort, without training and proof that the lessons have taken hold, is to deny the responsibility that comes with such power. Of course, there are wizards and warriors who perfect their craft without learning the level of emotional discipline to accompany it, and certainly there are those who attain great prowess in either profession to the detriment of all the world - Artemis Entreri seems a perfect example - but these individuals are, thankfully, rare, and mostly because their emotional lacking will be revealed early in their careers, and it often brings about a fairly abrupt downfall. But if the Gondsman has his way, if his errant view of paradise should come to fruition, then all the years of training will mean little. Any fool could pick up an arquebus or some other powerful weapon and summarily destroy a skilled warrior. Or any child could utilize a Gondsman's magic machine and replicate a firebal, perhaps, and burn down half a city. When I pointed out some of my fears to the Gondsman, he seemed shocked - not at the devastating possibilities, but rather, at my, as he put it, arrogance. "The inventions of the priests of Gond will make all equal!" he declared. "We will lift up the lowly peasant

In Brain Watch (1985), superpsychic powers are the result of splitting a doctor’s noggin into a quadruple brain, unlocking his ability to project illusions, become superstrong, and control the pigment in his skin to ensure a really great tan.

Perhaps we painted on our own skin, with ochre and charcoal, long before we painted on stone. In any case, forty thousand years ago, we left painted handprints on the cave walls of Lascaux, Ardennes, Chauvet. The black pigment used to paint the animals at Lascaux was made of manganese dioxide and ground quartz; and almost half the mixture was calcium phosphate. Calcium phosphate is produced by heating bone four hundred degrees Celsius, then grinding it. We made our paints from bones of the animals we painted. No image forgets this origin.

Humanity today forms a single species and can interbreed freely. Differences in color of hair, skin and eyes are largely due to differences in the quantity of a pigment called melanin, and this does not affect humanity's essentially unitary character. Nor do differences in the shape of the eye or nose, in the shape of the skull, or in height.

talking about radiation, few wonder why, after hundreds of million of years of having our skins exposed to sun rays, we suddenly need so much protection from them—is it that our exposure is more harmful than before because of changes in the atmosphere, or populations living in an environment mismatching the pigmentation of their skin—or rather, that makers of sun protection products need to make some profits?

The Elsinore's bow tilted skyward while her stern fell into a foaming valley. Not a man had gained his feet. Bridge and men swept back toward me and fetched up against the mizzen-shrouds. And then that prodigious, incredible old man appeared out of the water, on his two legs, upright, dragging with him, a man in each hand, the helpless forms of Nancy and the Faun. My heart leapt at beholding this mighty figure of a man-killer and slave-driver, it is true, but who sprang first into the teeth of danger so that his slaves might follow, and who emerged with a half-drowned slave in either hand. I knew augustness and pride as I gazed--pride that my eyes were blue, like his; that my skin was blond, like his; that my place was aft with him, and with the Samurai, in the high place of government and command. I nearly wept with the chill of pride that was akin to awe and that tingled and bristled along my spinal column and in my brain. As for the rest--the weaklings and the rejected, and the dark-pigmented things, the half-castes, the mongrel-bloods, and the dregs of long-conquered races--how could they count? My heels were iron as I gazed on them in their peril and weakness. Lord! Lord! For ten thousand generations and centuries we had stamped upon their faces and enslaved them to the toil of our will.

far as to say that white-skinned people are actually black-skinned mutants who lost the ability to produce significant amounts of eumelanin. Redheads, with their characteristic milky white skin and freckles, may be a further mutation along the same lines. In order to survive in places with infrequent and weak sunlight, such as in parts of the U.K., they may have evolved in a way that almost completely knocked out their body’s ability to produce eumelanin, the brown or black pigment.

But mostly, finally, ultimately, I'm here for the weather. As a result of the weather, ours is a landscape in a minor key, a sketchy panorama where objects, both organic and inorganic, lack well-defined edges and tent to melt together, creating a perpetual blurred effect, as if God, after creating Northwestern Washington, had second thoughts and tried unsuccessfully to erase it. Living here is not unlike living inside a classical Chinese painting before the intense wisps of mineral pigment had dried upon the silk - although, depending on the bite in the wind, they're times when it's more akin to being trapped in a bad Chinese restaurant; a dubious joint where gruff waiters slam chopsticks against the horizon, where service is haphazard, noodles soggy, wallpaper a tad too green, and considerable amounts of tea are spilt; but in each and every fortune cookie there's a line of poetry you can never forget. Invariably, the poems comment on the weather. In the deepest, darkest heart of winter, when the sky resembles bad banana baby food for months on end, and the witch measles that meteorologists call "drizzle" are a chronic gray rash on the skin of the land, folks all around me sink into a dismal funk. Many are depressed, a few actually suicidal. But I, I grow happier with each fresh storm, each thickening of the crinkly stratocumulus. "What's so hot about the sun?" I ask. Sunbeams are a lot like tourists: intruding where they don't belong, promoting noise and forced activity, faking a shallow cheerfulness, dumb little cameras slung around their necks. Raindrops, on the other hand, introverted, feral, buddhistically cool, behave as if they were locals. Which, of course, they are.

there is no such thing as different races of humans. Any differences we traditionally associate with race are a product of our need for vitamin D and our relationship to the Sun. Just a few clusters of genes control skin color; the changes in skin color are recent; they’ve gone back and forth with migrations; they are not the same even among two groups with similarly dark skin; and they are tiny compared to the total human genome. So skin color and “race” are neither significant nor consistent defining traits. We all descended from the same African ancestors, with little genetic separation from each other. The different colors or tones of skin are the result of an evolutionary response to ultraviolet light in local environments. Everybody has brown skin tinted by the pigment melanin. Some people have light brown skin. Some people have dark brown skin. But we all are brown, brown, brown. Our reactions to other groups are real enough, but evolutionary biology shows that those reactions have nothing to do with race, because race is not real. Scientifically speaking, there is tribalism and group bias, but there cannot be any such thing as racism. We are all one.

Please approach with care these figures in black. Regard with care the weight they bear, the scars that mark their hearts. Do you think you can handle these bodies of graphite & coal dust? This color might rub off. A drop of this red liquid could stain your skin. This black powder could blow you sky high. No ordinary pigments blacken our blues. Would you mop the floor with this bucket of blood? Would you rinse your soiled laundry in this basin of tears? Would you suckle hot milk from this cracked vessel? Would you be baptized in this fountain of funky sweat? Please approach with care these bodies still waiting to be touched. We invite you to come closer. We permit you to touch & be touched. We hope you will engage with care.

A study titled, simply, “The Color of Odors,” will destroy your faith in anybody’s ability to taste anything. Here’s how it worked: three French researchers started with two wines from Bordeaux, a white made with Sémillon and Sauvignon grapes and a red made with Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot. The researchers first had a group of subjects taste both the white wine and the red, under white light in clear glasses, and write down all the words they could think of to describe each one. In this test it didn’t matter whether the tasters perceived the same things. Inter-rater reliability wasn’t a factor here—the researchers didn’t care if tasters agreed with each other about the wine color and taste, just that each taster would consistently call one “red” and one “white.” Then the researchers took an odorless, tasteless extract of the grape-skin pigment anthocyanin and dripped it into the white wine, turning it red. And they called the tasters back for a second go-around, asking them to compare the white wine and the colored wine—the same wine, in other words, with red food coloring. The result was a taste-test catastrophe. Almost to a person, the tasters chose to use the same words for the white wine from the initial tasting on the white wine in the second. And they used the same words for the red wine on the red-colored white wine. They simply could not tell the difference. Color alone—not aroma, not flavor—told them what to expect, and that’s exactly what they tasted.

Octopuses and their relatives have what Woods Hole researcher Roger Hanlon calls electric skin. For its color palette, the octopus uses three layers of three different types of cells near the skin’s surface—all controlled in different ways. The deepest layer, containing the white leucophores, passively reflects background light. This process appears to involve no muscles or nerves. The middle layer contains the tiny iridophores, each 100 microns across. These also reflect light, including polarized light (which humans can’t see, but a number of octopuses’ predators, including birds, do). The iridophores create an array of glittering greens, blues, golds, and pinks. Some of these little organs seem to be passive, but other iridophores appear to be controlled by the nervous system. They are associated with the neurotransmitter acetylcholine, the first neurotransmitter to be identified in any animal. Acetylcholine helps with contraction of muscles; in humans, it is also important in memory, learning, and REM sleep. In octopuses, more of it “turns on” the greens and blues; less creates pinks and golds. The topmost layer of the octopus’s skin contains chromatophores, tiny sacks of yellow, red, brown, and black pigment, each in an elastic container that can be opened or closed to reveal more or less color. Camouflaging the eye alone—with a variety of patterns including a bar, a bandit’s mask, and a starburst pattern—can involve as many as 5 million chromatophores. Each chromatophore is regulated via an array of nerves and muscles, all under the octopus’s voluntary control.

The two most enduring questions with respect to human hair are when did we become essentially hairless and why did we retain conspicuous hair on the few places we did? As to the first, it isn’t possible to state categorically when humans lost their hair, because hair and skin aren’t preserved in the fossil record, but it is known from genetic studies that dark pigmentation dates from between 1.2 and 1.7 million years ago. Dark skin wasn’t necessary when we were still furry, so that would strongly suggest a time frame for hairlessness. Why we retained hair on some parts of our bodies is fairly straightforward with respect to the head but not so clear elsewhere. Hair on the head acts as a good insulator in cold weather and a good reflector of heat in hot weather. According to Nina Jablonski, tightly curled hair is the most efficient kind

Racism is group consciousness at its most repugnant, built on the premise that human beings can be divided by skin color into innately superior and inferior groups. Yet, paradoxically, racism is also a form of group blindness. Racial categories like 'black,' 'white,' and 'Asian' erase ethnic differences and identities. The original African slaves brought to America knew - and might have tried to tell their children - that they hailed from the Mandinka tribe or the Ashanti people, or that they were descended from a long line of Yoruba kings. But even as they were stripped of their rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness, America's slaves were also stripped of these ethnic identities. Slave families were deliberately broken up, and heritages were lost, reduced by the powerful to a pigment and nothing more. Even now, immigrants from, say, Ghana, Jamaica, or Nigeria are often stunned to discover that in America they are just 'black.

I set my coffee beside me on the curb; I smell loam on the wind; I pat the puppy; I watch the mountain. My hand works automatically over the puppy’s fur, following the line of hair under his ears, down his neck, inside his forelegs, along his hot-skinned belly. Shadows lope along the mountain’s rumpled flanks; they elongate like root tips, like lobes of spilling water, faster and faster. A warm purple pigment pools in each ruck and tuck of the rock; it deepens and spreads, boring crevasses, canyons. As the purple vaults and slides, it tricks out the unleafed forest and rumpled rock in gilt, in shape-shifting patches of glow. These gold lights veer and retract, shatter and glide in a series of dazzling splashes, shrinking, leaking, exploding. The ridge’s bosses and hummocks sprout bulging from its side; the whole mountain looms miles closer; the light warms and reddens; the bare forest folds and pleats itself like living protoplasm before my eyes, like a running chart, a wildly scrawling oscillograph on the present moment. The air cools; the puppy’s skin is hot. I am more alive than all the world.

For a start, most books like this, rich in such expensive pigments, had been made for palaces or cathedrals. But a haggadah is used only at home. The word is from the Hebrew root ngd, “to tell,” and it comes from the biblical command that instructs parents to tell their children the story of the Exodus. This “telling” varies widely, and over the centuries each Jewish community has developed its own variations on this home-based celebration. But no one knew why this haggadah was illustrated with numerous miniature paintings, at a time when most Jews considered figurative art a violation of the commandments. It was unlikely that a Jew would have been in a position to learn the skilled painting techniques evinced here. The style was not unlike the work of Christian illuminators. And yet, most of the miniatures illustrated biblical scenes as interpreted in the Midrash, or Jewish biblical exegesis. I turned the parchment and suddenly found myself gazing at the illustration that had provoked more scholarly speculation than all the others. It was a domestic scene. A family of Jews—Spanish, by their dress—sits at a Passover meal. We see the ritual foods, the matzoh to commemorate the unleavened bread that the Hebrews baked in haste on the night before they fled Egypt, a shank bone to remember the lamb’s blood on the doorposts that had caused the angel of death to “pass over” Jewish homes. The father, reclining as per custom, to show that he is a free man and not a slave, sips wine from a golden goblet as his small son, beside him, raises a cup. The mother sits serenely in the fine gown and jeweled headdress of the day. Probably the scene is a portrait of the family who commissioned this particular haggadah. But there is another woman at the table, ebony-skinned and saffron-robed, holding a piece of matzoh. Too finely dressed to be a servant, and fully participating in the Jewish rite, the identity of that African woman in saffron has perplexed the book’s scholars for a century. Slowly, deliberately, I examined and made notes on the condition of each page. Each time I turned a parchment, I checked and adjusted the position of the supporting forms. Never stress the book—the conservator’s chief commandment. But the people who had owned this book had known unbearable stress: pogrom, Inquisition, exile, genocide, war.

But merian, so often able to slide by the rules somehow, held on to her specialised tools: her book of notes, her paints, her expensive vellum--carta non nata, skin from unborn lambs, that held the color like nothing else. She brought her mixing materials and pigments.

I have a dark-skinned pigment and I lease new cars,” Chime said. “You can’t have dark skin and a new car in Clarkston without harassment.

But Trump’s claim was never about the birth certificate. The issue was clearly race-based, and it was more about the pigment of the baby’s skin and that of the baby’s father as well. Father and baby were both guilty of being Black, which is still the unwritten crime this nation subtly acknowledges in everyday life.

Octopuses can change what they look like in less than 30 milliseconds by expanding tiny pigment sacs in the skin, chromatophores. They can go from dark to pale, plain to patterned, rough to smooth, and a clumped shape to an elongated form. They change their appearance mostly to hide from predators, camouflaging to match the colors and the patterns of their background.

The year before, Boyle had jumped into the ring of the racial debate with Of the Nature of Whiteness and Blackness. He rejected both curse and climate theorists and knocked up a foundational antiracist idea: “The Seat” of human pigmentation “seems to be but the thin Epidermes, or outward Skin,” he wrote. And yet, this antiracist idea of skin color being only skin deep did not stop Boyle from judging different colors. Black skin, he maintained, was an “ugly” deformity of normal Whiteness. The physics of light, Boyle argued, showed that Whiteness was “the chiefest color.” He claimed to have ignored his personal “opinions” and “clearly and faithfully” presented the truth, as his Royal Society deeded. As Boyle and the Royal Society promoted the innovation and circulation of racist ideas, they promoted objectivity in all their writings.

The lights are still low. I'm more comfortable in the dark. It's not even that the lights in here would burn me; it's that sometimes too much light is overwhelming, especially after a day filled with things I'm not used to doing much of---packing, moving, traveling. It's too much input, almost painful for the brain, not necessarily the skin. However, sunlight does burn. Not in the way it does in films and TV programs; I don't let off smoke or singe, or burst into flames. Rather, my skin burns as if it has no pigment at all, as if I'm without any melanin, as if I'm completely and purely white.

you think humans are better off in war than in peace? Do you think humans understand each other or they pretend? Do you think the depth of colour is skin deep? Do you think humanity can ever live in peace? Do you think we are lunatics who try to sedate the barbarism?

A member from Assam said that 'there is less affinity among the different peoples in India than among the different nations of Europe', because while European countries could at least 'claim the same pigment of their skin' and 'the same religion throughout the length and breadth of Europe', India was a country 'with a bewildering, often conflicting varieties of people, of languages, of sects, of faiths, of colours, of nationalities, of races' which could not make similar claims.

used my little finger to apply gold pigment to my emerald-painted lips. Denim, the drag troupe that I set up seven years earlier, had survived the gruelling Fringe Festival, and we were one show away from crossing our scratched heels over the finish line. A month of performances, often two a day, had taken its toll. My skin was at war with the industrial quantity of make-up it was being suffocated in (a two-hour procedure each time); I had obliterated my left kneecap because of a wannabe-rockstar ‘jump-and-slam-onto-the-ground’ move I felt impelled to perform each show;

The climate defines the skin color and skeleton structure.

AS THE TOUR PROGRESSED, I GOT TO KNOW SOME OF MICHAEL’S other friends and associates. In Santiago, Chile, Michael’s dermatologist paid him a visit. Michael had a skin disease called vitiligo. He had told me about it earlier that year, at Neverland, explaining that it caused patches of his skin to lose their pigmentation. He showed me some pictures of people who had advanced cases of it; those whose skin color was dark had dramatic and disfiguring patches of white all over their bodies. Michael told me how much he hated the disease, but how fortunate he felt to be able to afford the treatment, which involved lightening the rest of his skin to even out the color.

that, instead of being fused to the skull, hangs loosely beneath the brain case. This enables the upper jaw to push forward and hyperextend open—wide enough to engulf, and crush, an adult bull elephant. As if the size and voraciousness of its feeding orifice were not enough, nature has endowed this monster with a predatory intelligence, honed by 400 million years of evolution. Six distinct senses expose every geological feature, every current, every temperature gradient … and every creature occupying its domain. The predator’s eyes contain a reflective layer of tissue situated behind the retina. When moving through the darkness of the depths, light is reflected off this layer, allowing the creature to see. In sunlight, the reflective plate is covered by a layer of pigment, which functions like a built-in pair of sunglasses. While black in normally pigmented members of the species, this particular male’s eyes are a cataract-blue—a trait found in albinos. As large as basketballs, the sight organs reflexively roll back into the skull as the creature launches its attack on its prey, protecting the eyeball from being damaged. Forward of the eyes, just beneath the snout, are a pair of directional nostrils so sensitive that they can detect one drop of blood or urine in a million gallons of water. The tongue and snout provide a sense of taste and touch, while two labyrinths within the skull function as ears. But it is two other receptor organs that make this predator the master of its liquid domain. The first of these mid-to-long-range detection systems is the lateral line, a hollow tube that runs along either flank just beneath the skin. Microscopic pores open these tubes to the sea. When another animal creates a vibration or turbulence in the water, the reverberations stimulate tiny hairs within these sensory cells that alert the predator to the source of the disturbance—miles away! Even more sensitive are the hunter’s long-range receptor cells, located along the top and underside

There is evidence from ancient DNA that lighter skin, hair, and eye pigmentation was strongly selected for in Europe in just the last five thousand years.

Human pigmentation is contained solely in the epidermis, the skin’s outer layer. Lose the epidermis, we all look Scandinavian,

I have hazarded into a new corner of the world, an unknown spot, a Brigadoon. Before me extends a low hill trembling in yellow brome, and behind the hill, filling the sky, rises an enormous mountain ridge, forested, alive and awesome with brilliant blown lights. I have never seen anything so tremulous and live. Overhead, great strips and chunks of cloud dash to the northwest in a gold rush. At my back the sun is setting- how can I have not noticed before that the sun is setting? My mind has been a blank slab of black asphalt for hours, but that doesn’t stop the sun’s wild wheel. I set my coffee on the curb; I smell loam on the wind; I pat the puppy; I watch the mountain. Shadows lope along the mountain’s rumpled flanks; they elongate like root tips, like lobes of spilling water, faster and faster. A warm purple pigment pools in each ruck and tuck of the rock; it deepens and spreads, boring crevasses, canyons. As the purple vaults and slides, it tricks out the unleafed forest and rumpled rock in gilt, in shape-shifting patches of glow. These gold lights veer and retract, shatter, and glide in a series of dazzling splashes, shrinking, leaking, exploding. The ridge’s bosses and hummocks sprout bulging from its sides; the whole mountain looms miles closer; the light warms and reddens; the bare forest folds and pleats itself like living protoplasm before my eyes, like a running chart, a wildly scrawling oscillography on the present moment. The air cools; the puppy’s skin is hot. I am more alive than all the world. This is it, I think, this is it, right now, the present, this empty gas station, here, this western wind, this tang of coffee on the tongue, and I am patting the puppy, I am watching the mountain. Version 1 (joy)

Of course, Obama, like most of his duplicitous predecessors of both Parties, is only a front man; a shameless, feckless, rabble rousing puppet whose protective skin pigmentation insulates him from the close scrutiny and criticism which he so richly deserves. Sound too harsh? Ask the grieving family members of all those women and children that the “Commander In Chief” has obliterated in Syria, Yemen, Pakistan etc, if such an assessment is too harsh, or “racist”?

God made skin pigment and skin pigment made man mad

If we really want "Racial Harmony" in this country, it is time we start judging individuals by the standards of their behaviors and by the criteria of the law, not by the pigmentation of their skin or the past sins or struggles of their forefathers.

Rebecca’s image of herself had been stamped in puberty, tall and gangly, skin hyper-pigmented with spots, and soda-bottle bottom bifocals to correct eyes that had crossed at age five. Now thirty-seven years old, she stood a full six feet, with erect posture and a decisive stride. Her fiery red hair, dramatically set off against a canvas of what now registered as sparkling freckles, as the result of a recessive gene on chromosome sixteen. With high cheekbones, a narrow nose, flush lips, she presented a striking image. Her brown, almond-shaped eyes, surgically uncrossed at age twelve, shimmered when she smiled.

Even if she’d [Ossie] gotten away from him [her ghost fiancé] the prognostications were grim—alligators with unusual pigmentation can’t camouflage themselves in the dust-and-olive palette of the swamp. Their skin is spotlit for predators. That’s why you don’t see albino Seths [Ava’s pet name for alligators] in the wild. Once an alligator reaches a size of four feet its only real predator is man.

pigment removal is a treatment to remove dark spot on your skin, using effecting treatment to remove pigment problem, also remove a small spot of your skin, skin will be lighter and brighter.

A person's disposition should serve as a narrative of their lives not the pigmentation of their skin.

Knowing what causes differentiation in human skin pigmentation, fascinating though that is, does not furnish a satisfactory explanation for the phenomenon of racism. Similarly, the biological explanation for why one person is right-handed whilst another is left-handed, is of less interest than why, even recently, being left-handed was considered such a stigma (…).Do we need to know what ‘causes’ homosexuality or heterosexuality? (…)Would the discovery of a genetic basis to sexual attraction finally undermine discrimination against non-heterosexual people by establishing that variations of sexual orientation are all equally rooted in nature? Or would it furnish powerful homophobic forces with a new weapon in their drive to undermine and remove the rights of non-heterosexual people, perhaps even the right to life itself? The infamous remarks of a senior religious leader (a former Chief Rabbi) in the UK a few years ago that, if a gay gene could be discovered, he would consider it morally acceptable to test pregnant women and offer them the option of aborting any foetus likely to develop into a non-heterosexual person - homophobic extermination in the womb - indicate that the huge moral and cultural debates around sexuality and human identity will not be solved either way by the biological sciences alone

The man looked worse in the lamplight. His skin washed of pigment. Tim’s mind conjured a weird image: the last few sips at the bottom of a Slurpee cup, the color all sucked out, only the tasteless ice crystals left.

Rejuvenate your skin with our Skin Needling treatment at Lilium Skin Clinic. This minimally invasive procedure stimulates collagen production, reducing fine lines, scars, and pigmentation. Our expert team ensures a safe and effective experience, leaving your skin smoother and more radiant. Transform your complexion with this advanced treatment tailored to your unique needs.

Peter King paused just inside taking in the scene with a few critical sweeps of eyes so dark they didn’t catch any light from the sunlight or the chandelier. His irises seemed to bleed pigment into the whites, warming them with swirls of ivory. In his black suit, his skin tanned almost to match, he might have been a heroically sized construction paper cutout against white walls, white carpet, the white-and-gold marble-topped table that looked both antique and French.

The defence shall cross-examine Zara Hanson,” he beckons her forward. “Would you tell the court how long we have known each other?” “Well…” taken aback, she ponders how best to answer, “you could say days, but then again you could say several lifetimes. It feels like I’ve known you my whole life.” “And in this time, would you say you trust my judgement?” Unsure where this is going, she gives a terse reply. “I’ve no reason not to.” “I ask that you trust my defence and do not draw any forgone conclusions.” “Okay?” Zara nods, her brow knits together with a look of curiosity. What’s he up to? “Zara Hanson, what is love?” “Well, you won’t find it anywhere near these jelly-beans,” she looks at the Elb. “Please, tell us what love is—not that which it is not.” “What is love?” Zara raises an eyebrow and smiles, “It is something indescribable, to categorise it would do its power a disservice.” “And yet categorise it we must.” Ansebe’s skin changes its tone, pigments diversify a hypnotic effect, influencing her emotions, “Please—what is love?

Melanotan I (Scenesse) darkens our skin by stimulating the production of melanin pigment production. Melanotan I is FDA-approved for treating skin damage in people with light intolerance, and may also help those struggling with mold toxicity. For the rest of us, it offers aesthetic benefits while protecting against damaging ultraviolet radiation. It also has some intriguing potential side benefits: reduced appetite, higher fat metabolism, and increased sex drive.

But as Ken Ham has shown, the “so-called ‘racial’ characteristics that people think are major differences (skin color, eye shape, etc.) account for only 0.012 percent of human biological variation.” On the specific subject of skin color, the presence of more melanin means “lighter” skin color; less melanin means “darker” skin color. So Ham concludes: “No one really has red, or yellow, or black skin. We all have the same basic color, just different shades of it. We all share the same pigments—our bodies just have different combinations of them.”11 In scientific terms, this means, according to Ham, that the differences between people groups are “absolutely trivial.”12

But we should be ever wary of classing people according to stereotypes. When I was a boy, American culture expended a great deal of energy to discredit such thinking and behavior. Today, however, we have witnessed the revenge of the stereotype. We learn from many that the most important part of human identity is skin color or a related identifier. We are told that we can know a great deal about people based upon these limited characteristics. This extends even to assuming that having a certain pigmentation, or being from a certain community, predetermines our way of thinking, our forms of expression, our preferences, our experiences, and our very personhood itself.

Monitoring your alcohol intake is important at any age, but as we age, it becomes more critical. A healthy liver helps to eliminate toxins from the skin and other parts of the body. Excessive alcohol consumption, however, has a detrimental effect on the liver. Toxins that would otherwise be flushed from the body by the liver accumulate under the skin. This can lead to a prematurely aged look to the skin, swollen eyes, wrinkles and acne.  Alcohol also dehydrates the skin. This reduces the elasticity of the skin,as well as leading to patchiness, uneven pigmentation and dryness. It also destroys tooth enamel, which results in unattractive staining.

We, the human race, must recognize the truth of—and embrace—the principle of color-blind individualism. We must acknowledge that race does not matter—that skin pigmentation, hair texture, facial bone structure, and so forth—signify zero regarding the only human attribute that does matter: Strength of character. There is only one race—the human race.

Artichokes Avocados Bean sprouts Beans, green Bok choy Broccoli Brussels sprouts Cabbage, green Celery Cucumbers with skin Grapes, green Green peas Kiwi, green Leafy greens Lettuce Limes Melons, honeydew Okra Olives, green Peppers, green Snow peas Watercress Zucchini with skin Red Beets Blood oranges Cabbage, red Cherries Cranberries (fresh or frozen without sugar) Grapefruit, pink or red Grapes, red Onions, red Peppers, red Plums, red Pomegranates Radicchio Radishes Raspberries, red Rhubarb Rooibos tea Strawberries Tomatoes Watermelons Blue/Purple/Black Aronia berries (grown throughout North America and Europe) Black currants Black mulberries Blackberries Blueberries Boysenberries Dates Eggplants Elderberries Figs, purple Grapes, black or purple Huckleberries Kale, purple Marionberries Olives, black Plums, black Prunes Purple heirloom carrots Purple yams or potatoes (remember these are starchy—and these must be pigmented all the way through in order to count in this category) Raisins Raspberries, black Yellow/Orange Apricots Cantaloupe Carrots Ginger root Grapefruit, yellow Kiwi, golden Lemon Mangoes Muskmelons Nectarines Oranges Papayas Peaches Peppers, orange and yellow Persimmons Pineapples Pumpkins Squash, summer and winter Starfruit Sweet potatoes and yams Tangerines Turmeric root

TREATMENTS FOR REMOVING A BIRTHMARK Birthmark removal is one of our most challenging, but also satisfying, treatments. Not all birthmarks are the same, regardless of how they appear, which means that technology and expertise are critical to the success of a birthmark removal procedure. A port-wine stain is one sort of red birthmark, while there are several brown birthmarks and other types of birthmarks. Many of these conditions can be successfully treated using laser technology and by using other treatments for removing birthmarks. Birthmarks are skin signs that a baby may develop before or shortly after birth. Birthmarks can be flat or raised, have regular or irregular borders, and vary in color from brown, tan, black, or pale blue to pink, red, or purple. Though most birthmarks are nontoxic and do not require medical treatment, it is important to keep note of any changes in their appearance. Some birthmarks are large and significant enough to interfere with other biological functions. Birthmarks are often produced by the unusual development of cellular components in the skin. The two most common causes of birthmarks are as follows: (i) Irregular development of blood vessels beneath the skin. (ii) An increase in the number of pigments (i.e. melanin) generating cells that gather together under the skin. There are several old wives’ stories and superstitions concerning birthmark causes in various cultures across the world. For more information kindly visit or contact 0331 1117546

SKIN PIGMENTATION. Pigmentation refers to skin coloring, which depends on specialized cells that produce melanin. Melanin is the pigment that imparts different shades and colors to the hair, skin, mucous membranes, and retina of the eye. Individuals with too little melanin production have fair skin, whereas those with high deposition have a darker complexion. Skin pigmentation problems arise when there is an excess of melanin production, resulting in dark spots, patches, or discoloration of the skin. It can change the color of the skin over time, resulting in an uneven skin tone. Whilst hyperpigmentation is not a dangerous illness, it may be a sign of another medical condition. As a result, a dermatologist should be consulted to determine the exact cause of the pigmentation. CAUSES OF SKIN PIGMENTATION. • Skin inflammation (post-inflammatory hyperpigmentation) • Drugs (such as minocycline, certain cancer chemotherapies, and birth control pills) • The disease of hormones. • Hemochromatosis (iron overload) • Sun exposure. • Pregnancy (melasma, or mask of pregnancy) • Certain birthmarks. or contact 0331 1117546

Are people really a different color? Not really. We have various shades of the same primary pigment, the melanin in our skin. Melanin is a brownish pigment and some of us have more or less of this brownish pigment. In other words, we are all basically brown. Some of us are browner than others. There are other factors involved as well, but melanin is the primary "shareholder" in determining skin shade (e.g., think of a sunburn, albinism, and so on).

Pregnancy Skincare: Nurturing Your Glow with Expert Care – Motherhood Chaitanya Hospital Pregnancy – a wondrous journey that transforms your world in every conceivable way. As you prepare to welcome a new life into the world, your body takes center stage, and so does your skincare routine. Amidst the excitement and anticipation, the canvas of your skin undergoes its own set of changes. But fret not, for the guidance of best gynecologist obstetricians in Chandigarh and the expert care at Motherhood Chaitanya Hospital can help you navigate the realm of pregnancy skincare with grace and confidence. The Glow and the Challenges Ah, the famed pregnancy glow! While it’s true that many expectant mothers experience a certain radiance, it’s also a time when your skin decides to throw a few curveballs. Hormones like estrogen and progesterone, the maestros behind many pregnancy changes, might lead to increased oil production. This could result in unexpected acne or that elusive “glow” turning into a somewhat excessive shine. And let’s not forget about the infamous melasma, often referred to as the “mask of pregnancy.” This uneven pigmentation might make an appearance on your face, especially if you’re basking in the sun’s rays without proper protection. But worry not, for the guidance of the best gynaecologist in Chandigarh, you can take steps to manage these challenges and let your true radiance shine through. Dos and Don’ts In this symphony of pregnancy skincare, it’s crucial to compose a harmonious routine that nurtures both your skin and the life growing within you. First and foremost, let’s talk hydration. Drinking water is like giving your skin a refreshing dose of vitality, ensuring that it remains supple and resilient. As you venture into the world of skincare products, remember that less is more. Opt for gentle, pregnancy-safe cleansers that cleanse without stripping away your skin’s natural moisture. Ingredients like hyaluronic acid and glycerin can be your skin’s best friends, offering hydration without clogging pores. Ah, the allure of sunscreen! Now more than ever, shielding your skin from the sun’s rays is of paramount importance. Look for a broad-spectrum SPF and ensure that it’s pregnancy-safe. A hat and sunglasses can also join the ensemble of sun protection. Now, as you scan the beauty aisles, you might come across a wide array of products promising miracles. But be cautious – not all ingredients are pregnancy-friendly. Best gynecologist in Sector44C would advise steering clear of retinoids, salicylic acid, and benzoyl peroxide. Instead, embrace the calming embrace of ingredients like chamomile and aloe vera. Treating Yourself with Care Amidst the whirlwind of preparations, don’t forget to treat yourself to moments of self-care. A gentle exfoliation once or twice a week can help slough away dead skin cells and keep your complexion radiant. Opt for exfoliants with natural granules to ensure that your skin is treated with the gentleness it deserves. Expert Support for Your Glow The journey of pregnancy is as unique as a fingerprint, and so is your skin’s response to it. That’s why seeking guidance from the best obstetricians in Chandigarh can make all the difference. As you navigate the realms of pregnancy skincare, remember that the changes your skin undergoes are a testament to the incredible journey you’re on. It’s a journey of growth, transformation, and the anticipation of new beginnings. With the guidance of experts, a touch of self-care, and the support of Motherhood Chaitanya Hospital, you can stride through this journey with confidence, letting your inner glow shine as brightly as your dreams.

Unlocking Beauty: Exploring Advanced Technologies in Aesthetic Treatments at myChway In today's dynamic world of beauty and aesthetics, the quest for non-invasive, effective treatments has never been more prevalent. Among the vast array of innovative technologies, myChway stands out as a pioneering hub, offering a comprehensive range of cutting-edge solutions, including Radio Frequency, Cryolipolysis, Pulsed Light Face, LED Masks, Lipocavitation, and more. Let's delve into the transformative power of these advancements and understand how they're revolutionizing the beauty industry. Radio Frequency (RF) myChway integrates Radio Frequency technology, known for its remarkable skin-tightening and collagen-boosting properties. This advanced treatment targets fine lines, wrinkles, and sagging skin, promoting a firmer, more youthful complexion. Through controlled heating, RF stimulates the body’s natural collagen production, resulting in long-term skin rejuvenation. Cryolipolysis The innovative Cryolipolysis treatment, a specialty at myChway, involves freezing and eliminating stubborn fat cells without invasive procedures. This technique, often referred to as "fat freezing," selectively targets and reduces fat pockets, reshaping the body without downtime or surgery. Pulsed Light Face Treatments myChway's Pulsed Light Face treatments harness the power of light energy to address various skin issues. This technology is versatile, effectively treating acne, pigmentation, and stimulating collagen production, promoting a clearer, more radiant complexion. LED Masks LED Masks have gained popularity for their ability to improve skin health. With various wavelengths of light, these masks can target specific skin concerns, such as acne or aging. At myChway, these masks are designed to cater to diverse skin needs, offering a relaxing and effective treatment. Lipocavitation and Lipolaser Lipocavitation and Lipolaser technologies at myChway are designed to break down stubborn fat deposits through ultrasound and laser energy, respectively. These non-invasive procedures provide contouring and slimming effects, reshaping the body safely and effectively. The Power of 7EN1, 8EN1, and 9EN1 Technologies At the forefront of myChway's offerings are their 7EN1, 8EN1, and 9EN1 technologies. These multifunctional devices combine various treatments into one, offering a holistic approach to beauty and body contouring. From cellulite reduction to skin tightening, these comprehensive systems cater to a wide range of aesthetic needs, providing an all-in-one solution. In conclusion, myChway's commitment to integrating the latest advancements in the beauty industry makes it a go-to destination for those seeking non-invasive, effective aesthetic treatments. With a focus on Radio Frequency, Cryolipolysis, Pulsed Light Face, LED Masks, Lipocavitation, and the advanced 7EN1, 8EN1, and 9EN1 technologies, myChway continues to redefine beauty standards, ensuring a safe, transformative experience for its clientele. Experience the future of beauty and aesthetics at myChway, where innovation meets transformation.

Vitiligo is a skin condition that causes patches of the skin to lose their pigment, turning white. It affects all skin colors, including the skin of people with dark skin, and is often the result of stress or trauma. If you have Vitiligo on back side then Berry Skin Care provides ayurvedic treatments for vitiligo.

by Luci Shaw To the Edge: for Madeleine L'Engle Be with her now. She faces the ocean of unknowing, losing the sense of what her life has been, and soon will be no longer as she knew it, as we knew it with her. Lagging behind, we cannot join her on this nameless shore. Knots in her bones, flesh flaccid, the skin like paper, pigment gathering like ashes driven by a random wind, a heart that may still sing, interiorly - we cannot know - have pulled her far ahead of us, our pioneer. As we embrace her, her inner eyes embrace the universe.. She recognizes heaven with its innumerable stars - but not our faces. Be with her now, as you have sometimes been - a flare that blazes, then dulls, leaving only a bright blur in the memory. Hold her in the mystery that no one can describe but Lazarus, though he was dumb and didn't speak of it. Fog has rolled in, erasing definition at the edge. Walking to meet it, she hopes soon to see where the shore ends. She listens as the ocean breathes in and out in waves. She hears no other sound.

How could our own people sell us into slavery like that? But there was no concept of “our people” in Africa at that time. Africans didn’t think of themselves as black, Negro, or African. They were Fulani, Bambara, Mandinka, or whatever ethnic-linguistic group they belonged to. The idea that black people share a common identity was created by the experience of being enslaved together in the New World, on the basis of their skin pigmentation and the newly invented fiction of “race.” White people were similarly invented.

Dr. Junius Crookman, published a monograph on the differences in skin pigmentation of the real whites and those he had made white by the Black-No-More process. In it he declared, to the consternation of many Americans, that in practically every instance the new Caucasians were from two to three shades lighter than the old Caucasians, and that approximately one-sixth of the population were in the first group. The old Caucasians had never been really white but rather were a pale pink shading down to a sand color and a red. Even when an old Caucasian contracted vitiligo, he pointed out, the skin became much lighter. To a society that had been taught to venerate whiteness for over three hundred years, this announcement was rather staggering. What was the world coming to, if the blacks were whiter than the whites? Many people in the upper class began to look askance at their very pale complexions. If it were true that extreme whiteness was evidence of the possession of Negro blood, of having once been a member of a pariah class, then surely it were well not to be so white! Dr. Crookman’s amazing brochure started the entire country to examining shades of skin color again. Sunday magazine supplements carried long articles on the subject from the pens of hack writers who knew nothing whatever of pigmentation. Pale people who did not have blue eyes began to be whispered about. The comic weeklies devoted special numbers to the question that was on everyone’s lips. Senator Bosh of Mississippi, about to run again for office, referred several times to it in the Congressional Record, his remarks interspersed with “Applauses.” A popular song, “Whiter Than White” was being whistled by the entire nation. Among the working classes, in the next

skin stain that would impart a long-wearing light-brown tinge to the pigment.

When a red wolf loses its fur to mange, its coat grows back in as a creamy beige because pigment -producing cells are destroyed when the skin becomes highly inflamed. She looks resolute in her misery, or perhaps it is simply the endurance of a wild animal that knows the pattern of survival. “We’ve got to get rid of these bugs,” Ryan says, upset about the flies hovering near her sores. In that instant, I admire the responsibility he feels for taking care of the red wolves. It is one thing to administer routine vaccines and medical injections but quite another to want to remove flies from his patient’s wounds. I gaze at the wolf’s lean body, curled into a ball in the hot metal box. My eye catches something pink near her tail, then something dark moves. “She’s so scared of us, she’s pooping,” I blurt out. “That’s what they do when they’re scared,” Ryan says. He slowly lowers the lid on her box so that it would not clatter and further rattle her. She now has her privacy back, even if it is a hot, metallic, fly-filled hell. She has the whole fifty-by-fifty-foot pen to roam around, and yet this two-by-three-foot box is where she chooses to be. I begin to get a glimpse of how hard it must be to spend your career conserving an animal that doesn’t lose an ounce of affection on you, an animal that you are responsible for keeping fed, whole, and healthy while it makes it abundantly clear through its body language that it would rather be anywhere else on earth than near you. “They are scared to death of people,” Ryan says as we exit the pen. “As scared as some people are of being face-to-face with a wolf, you can pretty much guarantee that they are more scared of you.

But most social scientists today do not believe that racial differences have a deep biological or genetic origin; rather, most differences (such as skin pigmentation) are superficial and can’t come close to explaining broad social inequalities. Instead, most accept the notion that race is in large part socially constructed. As the historian Matthew Jacobson asks, “Why is it that in the United States a white woman can have black children but a black woman cannot have white children? Doesn’t this bespeak a degree of arbitrariness in this business of affixing racial labels?”11

Race-ism: a religion where the pious practitioners walk faithfully in the dogma of social categorization. Often leading to a rise in violence, race-ism promotes the idea that men with an excess of brown pigment in their skin, a type of natural sunblock, and men who are lacking in this pigment, are as opposed to one another, and different from each other as cats and dogs, or birds and monkeys. Today, race-ism is preached from every available media outlet, flooding the hearts and minds of our youth with a false idea, one that's fueled by self hatred, and insecurity. Much like all faiths, the racists put on smiling faces, and tout the good causes of social justice, and equality, in a disguised attempt to dominate the world, and form it to their own perceptions. Race-ism is a meme, the offspring of the 'tree of knowledge', also known as men, or males. There is no "coexist" in the world of memes. They, the memes, although delusional, consider themselves vitally important, motivated by the most basic of instincts and desires, the desire to "be fruitful and multiply". There are many memes that humans have been trodden under. The most famous is the one in the book of Genesis. Adam and Eve's invention of the word 'naked', resulted in the faith that our entire civilized world is but a product of. The faith that one should be "ashamed" of one's self, just for simply existing. In other words, the faith in 'good enough', and not 'good enough'. The fruits of which, continue to curse every fiber of our existence. We have become so embarrassingly desperate in our need to conquer our faith, that churches have evolved into universities, where, for a price, professors preach divine instruction in the difficult path of attaining that most longed for goal, 'good enough'. Knowing that memes are so dangerous, and that they desire our worship, our belief, the taste of our blood, as well as our undivided attention, this is why I'm a member of the only denomination of race-ism that preaches the gospel. The church of One Race. The human race.

NOBODY CAN PREDICT WHO’LL MAKE it through BUD/S. The brass tries to figure it out; they bring in psychologists and boost the number of guys beginning the process, hoping more SEALs will be left standing at the end. They tweak the design to create more equal opportunity for minorities, but all that happens is that the instructors do to the students exactly what was done to them, and always 80 percent don’t make it. We have more white SEALs simply because more white guys try out. Eighty percent of white guys fail, 80 percent of Filipinos fail, 80 percent of black guys fail. And the irony is, the Navy doesn’t want an 80 percent failure rate. There can’t be too many SEALs. We’re always undermanned. From the beginning of boot camp, the instructors try separating guys who want to be SEALs. They put them together, feed them better, give them workouts designed to prepare them for BUD/S. These promising rookies get in better shape, are better nourished, and are psychologically primed to go. Then they’re sent to SEAL training and 80 percent fail. No matter what the Navy process tweakers do, they can’t crack it. You’d think the Olympic swimmer would make it. You’d think the pro-football player would make it. But they don’t—well, 80  percent don’t. In my experience, the one category of people who get reliably crushed in BUD/S are that noble demographic, the loudmouths. They’re usually the first to ring the bell. As for who will make it, all I can say is: Are you the person who can convince your body that it can do anything you ask it to? Who can hit the wall and say, “What wall?” That strength of mind isn’t associated with any ethnicity or level of skin pigmentation. It’s not a function of size or musculature or IQ. In the end, it’s sheer cussedness, and I’m guessing you’re either born that way or you never get there.

It’s funny how the painter’s not: the one with pigment smeared into her skin the one whose body is as permanent a fixture in this studio as stool, palette, easel, the only one whose heart is flung across this canvas. No: the painter merely signs his name and takes his gold.

Whatever your skin pigment is, be grateful.

Is the rift dividing them in fact a bottomless chasm; is that why such powerful turbulences have been released? And is it a rift between Black and White? Or Poor or Rich? Stranger and Friend? Or between those whose father's have died and those whose father's are still alive? Or those with curly hair and those with straight? Those who call their dinner fufu and those that call it stew? Or those who like to wear yellow, red, and green t-shirts and those who prefer neckties? Or those who like to drink water and those who prefer beer? Or between speakers of one language or another? How many borders exist within a single universe? Or, to ask it differently, what is the one true, crucial border? ... it's just a matter of a few pigments in the material that's known as skin in all the languages of the world, meaning that the violence on display here is not at all the harbinger of a storm in the center of the universe but is in fact due merely to an absurd misunderstanding that has been dividing humankind and preventing it from realizing how enormously long the lifespan of a planet is compared to the life and breath of any one human being. Whether you clothe your body in hand-me-down pants and jackets from a donation bin, brand-name sweater's, expensive or cheap dresses, or uniforms with a helmet and visor- underneath this clothing, every one of us is naked and must surely, let's hope, have taken pleasure in sunshine and wind, in water and snow, have eaten or drunk this and that tasty thing, perhaps even have loved someone and been loved in return before dying one day.

A formless blob begins to morph and then evolves into a humanoid shape. A male body is revealed to her. A twenty-year-old man that looks a bit older than her, but no more than a few years at most. He has pale skin but a tan pigmentation to his dermal membrane, similarly to those who have descended from Hispanic or Spanish heritage. His eyes are heterochromatic, gleaming like gems in this uncanny realm. Identical to the eyes of her beloved cat: one shines with the radiance of a sapphire, while the other glows with a fiery dissimilarity, resembling a diametrical ruby. Somehow, though different in color, the blankness of his eyes are far from antithetical to the pair that were painted in the picture of her dream from days ago, that seemed to have come right out of a Dalí painting. Invoking the memory of the dead-eyed stare that continually to haunts her. He is very handsome with a large forehead, and slick ebony hair. His eyebrows are incredibly expressive, as if they were sketched on with a pencil. And he had a teardrop mole underneath his right eye. He had long eyelashes and a porcelain doll mouth. He is adorned in all white: a long-sleeved white sweater with white pants and a pair of white combat boots. Although he has manifested himself in such a beautiful form, Juniper doesn't feel any attraction towards him. When she blushes, it is only from humiliation. Their eyes are locked together in an encumbrance of space-time.

Den svenska solens strålar påverkade min halvsemitiska pigmentering och utförde sina kosmiska trollkonster. Efter några veckors solbestrålning framtonade en typisk arab som efter solveckornas framskridande förvandlades till en mulatt. Denna osvenska uppenbarelse skulle förmodligen blivit refuserad om inte vaktmästaren varit fotbollsbiten. Ett egyptiskt fotbollslag […]