Friday, October 31, 2008

It's The Messenger, Stupid



Did that make you chuckle?

I sure did.

However, to a bunch of college students in New Jersey, that cartoon was offensive trash and they are angry at their college newspaper for publishing it. You can read about the kerfuffle, here.

Maybe it's because I was familiar with the work of Keith Knight and knew that he was black, but I didn't find the comic offensive at all. After all, it's based on a real story, and he actually avoided using the entire word "nigger" by cutting it off with the panel. It wasn't a gratuitous use of the word nigger, it was using the word to make a real point about who is supporting Barack Obama.

Damn near everybody is hopping on the Hope bandwagon.

Satire is a dangerous business. We all remember the problems when the New Yorker decided it had the intelligence and gravitas to talk about Michelle and Barack through pictures:



Epic failure.

Why was this New Yorker cover so stupid, while the cartoon above so funny?

The messenger.

The New Yorker is known for its intelligence and long articles. Many well-read and forward-thinking liberals enjoy reading the magazine just to prove they're smart. Comparing the New Yorker's national profile to the national profile of "The K Chronicles" is like comparing the dignity of Michelle Obama to that of Sarah Palin.

No contest.

Yet, I trust Keith Knight and "The K Chronicles" more when it comes to having an honest, intelligent conversation about race in America. Like I said, I tend to give the benefit of the doubt to black people on using the word "nigger," plus I found that Knight's piece did a better job of articulating its point. We see frame-by-frame how the encounter developed, and we're left with the curious fact that somebody who calls black people niggers would still vote for a black man for president.

In the New Yorker cover, we have a bunch of stereotypical images with no other reference. Sure, some people's minds might make the connection that the cover is poking fun at stereotypes, but most folks are just going to see the stereotypes. There are no clues that the cover is laughing at the right wing attacks, unless you're already pre-conditioned to believe that there is no way the New Yorker could ever believe these sort of lies.

Human communication is a mixture verbal cues, non-verbal cues and shared vantage points. Understanding the context of comments is crucial to getting their full meaning. When we lack the proper context, it's much harder to communicate.

Often, racial discussions bog down because it's still quite possible to grow up in America without becoming acquainted with different viewpoints. The probability of that occurring is much higher for white people than minorities because of the power dynamics and demographics of the country. Many of us deal with each other from positions of cultural ignorance.

When dealing with comedy or satire a failure to understand context is fatal. I remember when comedians were complaining that every joke they made about Obama opened them up to an attack. At the time, I opined that they wanted Obama to joke for them so they could feel more comfortable, but I also touched on another issue.

Many white comedians lack the cultural knowledge to joke about black people in an intelligent manner that doesn't rely on stereotypes about rappers, gangstas and baby mommas. The same is true of black comedians who often rely on trite "white people do this, and black people do that" jokes.

Those individuals who seek to traffic in comedy and satire, to become cultural messengers, owe it to themselves and their audiences to become informed about the groups they want to eviscerate. That will not prevent them from offending some people, but it will greatly reduce the number of those offended. More importantly, it will improve our national dialogue because ignorance only breeds conflict.

Let's all become better messengers.


Share

Thursday, October 30, 2008

In a Darker World

I did not jack this idea from Maureen Dowd. I had this piece written earlier this week, but was saving it. Dammit.

Scene: Jan. 20, 2009. The Oval Office. John McCain sits at a desk with his feet raised and a Cuban cigar in his mouth. A bottle of Cristal cools on a nearby cabinet. The strains of music and protesters from McCain's inauguration ceremony can be heard faintly.

McCain: *Sigh* It finally happened.

Sonorous, baritone voice answers from the ether: Yes, yes it did John.

McCain: You know I couldn't have done it without you. Without you I'd be trying to pick up the pieces in Arizona and figure out what happened.

Voice: Of course I know that John. You of all people should be aware of how much I know.

McCain: *laughing nervously* Oh I definitely understand what you can do now. I still can't believe I'm sitting in this office. McCain gazes around in wonder, shaking his head. But, you know what? I belong here.

Voice: I promised you the White House. I delivered. I always deliver.

McCain: No shit. Although when the Diva turned on me at the end I got a little worried. That's a dangerous woman, but she eventually came to her senses and worked for the team.

I just kept repeating the lines you gave me about a sure victory. I must admit I doubted if you were going to come through since you do tend to lose battles when The Other Guy is involved.

Voice: What did you say?

McCain: Nothing. Uh, so how did you do it?

Voice: Do you really want those details? Plausible deniability is something that will take you far in this job.

McCain: Nobody is going to make me testify about this. The media is just happy they got a great storyline about my comeback. Now, their enjoying the afterglow of all those advertising dollars, and wondering how they'll convince people to pay attention in four years. Tell me what you did?

Voice: I rigged it. Typical stuff. Suppressed the vote in minority communities, took advantage of a few glitches in those electronic voting machines that were installed after the last election I got involved in. It didn't take much given the groundwork I layed in 2000 and 2004. People don't really believe in elections anymore, so everything fell into place.

Besides, most people never really expected Obama to win. They may have pretended it was a foregone conclusion, but like David Gergen pointed out, Barack was always a black man running for president in America.

McCain: Yeah, can you believe the cojones on that guy? I hope he enjoys life with those losers in the Senate 'cause he's never leaving. breaks into guffaws The nerve of him. Thinking he can just jump the line, thinking this is the kind of country where we elect people like him. Damn socialist.

Voice: Yeah, I couldn't let him win anyway. He has his flaws, but can you imagine how much harder all his hope and change would make life for me? Nope, I like things exactly the way they are. This is working just fine for my aims. By the way, where is Cindy?

McCain: I don't know. I left her in one of the bathrooms. She said she had a headache and might take a few aspirins. Pulled an orange bottle with her special brand out of her purse. Why?

Voice: No reason.

McCain: I know our bargain didn't extend that far, but, what do I do about the Diva now? All her talk about the role of vice president even made me nervous, and I don't think I can just stash her somewhere like I planned. But, I'll be damned if I let her anywhere near my power, I mean near the country's power.

Voice: Don't worry about her, I've got plans for her.

McCain: Something dangerous and difficult I hope?

Voice: You would be surprised.

McCain: Well, I guess you and I are pretty much finished until the next election, right? I doubt if Obama will challenge me again. His political capital is completely spent. If he couldn't win in a year with all these built in advantages, when could he seal the deal?

Voice: True. You're right, our time is up here.

McCain: So, I'll see you around?

Voice: You'll see me everyday. Well, I guess we'd better be going.

McCain: Who is we?

Voice: You an I. We. The two of us.

McCain: No, I think I'll stay here and savor the moment. Just sit by myself for a while.

Voice: No, you're leaving too.

McCain: What are you talking about? It's time to turn this country around. First up, I need to deal with this problem in Syria. You know Iran is behind that crap, and I won't stand for their meddling in other people's business. Then I need to figure out when I can get this health care plan off the ground. It will be a busy 100 days.

Voice: Not for you.

McCain suddenly clutches his chest, his eyes bulging

McCain: Wh...What's going on? What's happening?

Voice: I said it was time to go. You're leaving.

McCain: But we had a deal. You promised this to me. I gave you my SOUL.

Voice: Yes you did. And I delivered. You're the president. You made it. You won despite every indication that you were headed for certain defeat.

McCain:*breathing heavily, sweating* But, now it's time to govern. Now it's time to rule.

Voice: You're right. It is time for my ruler to take over this country.....SARAH, could you please come in here?

Diva: enters, with her Dude right behind her Yes, I'm here.

Voice: Ready?

Diva: Of course. I was tired of listening to old wrinkled balls over there prattle about his "plans." Like he ever had the vision to have a plan.

McCain: *slumped in his chair, the cigar forgotten on the carpet* How can she be working with you? I thought she hated you?

Diva: I do hate him. But, sometimes evil must by used to achieve the means of good.

Voice: Sure thing, baby. Sure thing... Prepare your crying face, it's almost time for this one and I to leave. You must sell your sorrow before you assume your rightful place. Nobody can doubt you.

Diva: Please, I don't need advice from the likes of you.

McCain has fallen from his chair, and is breathing shallowly on the floor. His head rests in a puddle made by the bucket of champagne.

McCain: *whispering*But you promised me the presidency. You promised me power.

Voice: And I delivered. Let there be no doubt that you were the 44th president and you had power. Now, she has that power. Come, I grow weary...

McCain's eyes close and his breathing stops.

Diva: Finally, I am ready to do the will of the Lord.

Voice: Good baby. I'll let him know you asked about him the next time we talk. I'm sure he'll be surprised to hear from you.



Share

Wednesday, October 29, 2008

She's a Little Scared

A friend of mine is starting to get scared.

She sees this protracted election season finally nearing its end and she's frightened. Not because she's worried about Barack Obama's safety, or because she thinks he will lose the election. Nope, she's worried about her own well-being.

She fears the dreaded White Backlash.

There is no need to pussyfoot around this subject. If a black man is our next president, there will be a certain segment of the white population that will be unbelievably pissed. Some of these folks will use Obama as proof that racism is dead. Others will blame Obama for every evil in their lives.

And, still others will be on the street looking for some catch back.

At least that's what my friend thinks. Since we live in a red state, she's concerned that some of our McCain supporting brethren may try to strike at random black folks since they can't get to the true source of their ire. She worried about getting cut-off frequently on the highway, getting snubbed in malls and potentially becoming a target for angry, frustrated white people. It may seem like a silly worry, but if white folks are plotting assassinations and beating up Obama's workers, well maybe she's not totally crazy.

But, I just told her to "nut up."

That's right, she needs to grow a pair like Hillary Clinton.

How dare she whine about people not holding doors open for her, or cutting their eyes at her in the checkout line? I'm not trying to downplay the threat of violence, but most of her fears were related to minor slights, not killing sprees. Therefore, I told her she needs to welcome this opportunity to have a little confrontation.

Get that shit off her chest.

I understand that it's easy for me to say all that since I'm a rather large man. She is a petite woman. Therefore the idea of a confrontation, particularly one that might turn physical probably doesn't appeal to her. The thing is, it's highly unlikely that things are going to get physical and if they do, she can just call the police. Unlike black people back in the day, modern black people have some legal recourse when we're mistreated. We have rights these days.

Personally, I would relish the opportunity to have some hardcore conversations with the sort of white folks who think they can jump stupid because their guy lost. Let's get all the cards on the table and let me know how you really feel so I can behave accordingly. If they want to be disrespectful, that means I can drop my veneer of respectability as well. Ain't no thing at all. I like when folks speak their mind.

Cause then I get to speak my mind.

So to my friend, who is also a regular reader of the blog, I say that you need to find a pair of cojones and buy you a sturdy rattail comb. Keep the Vaseline ready too.

If it's a scrap they want, then it's a scrap we need to be ready to have.

Share

Tuesday, October 28, 2008

What's Going On?

I'm going to be honest with y'all.

I'm just a tad bit vain.

I write a blog because I have something to get off my chest and because I'm really interested in hearing what y'all think about my feelings. On one hand I think I'm providing a service, but on the other hand it's pretty much a way to get my ego stroked.

Y'all haven't been stroking much lately.

According to StatCounter, I get about 5,000 visitors a month to the blog. Sometimes traffic spikes when I link to a popular site, but that's the average. For the first few months, the site was growing quickly, but lately things have been pretty stagnant.

And, that's been reflected in the comments on the blog.

I guess I'm wondering if I'm doing something wrong. At times I wonder if I'm repeating myself, if I'm not being creative enough. Would the blog benefit from me posting less frequently, or rigidly?

So, for those of you who are inclined, I'd like to hear from you. Not praise or good wishes, but genuine advice on what you think the blog is lacking and what would increase your interest. And maybe attract new people.

I would appreciate it.


Share



Raving Black Lunatic