As you have noticed by now, every blogger and newspaper person with a personal computer that they randomly use for downloading midget porn and other deviant sex acts, has waxed poetic about Michael Richards' use of the "N-Word". Personally I didn't think it was a big deal, not when we have real problems in the world like the spread of AIDS in the black community and our own government pulling out their collective cocks and taking an R. Kelly-style piss all over our constitution. It also wasn't a big deal to me because sure I feel that Richards is a racist, but that was more of a guy that didn't have the mental capacity to produce a significant enough of a retort, so he went to what he knew worked when attacking black folks. Its like this white guy that I knew in college named Jesse, a tree-hugger of a fellow that was on a mission to save the planet, equipped with blond dreadlocks, a nap-sack full of books that you could randomly find him reading, an a knowledge of The Black Panthers that would put most black folks to shame. This is the type of melanin-challenged individual who I thought, if born 30 years earlier, would have marched with Dr. King and taken rocks to the head while walking with the other protesters, arm and arm, while singing some soulful church hymn with a smile on his face. I thought that Jesse was down with the brothers, that was until his girlfriend got assaulted and robbed by a couple of black teens, an act that resulted in a group of my friends overhearing Jesse use so many racial slurs and epithets that it would have made the guy who wrote the script for "Mississippi Burning" cringe in disgust. A few days later Jesse approached me with a sort of embarrassing half grin on his face, the type of facial gesture that a friend would give you the day after he got shitfaced and tried to drunkenly sodomize your dog, he said "I guess you heard what I said huh?? Dude, I'm sorry, I was just mad that my girl got mugged!! (now smiling) Come on bro, what other white dude in the world knows as much about the COINTELPRO as I do??" I think I just looked him in the eyes, shook my head, and simply said something like "Smoke and Mirrors man.. smoke and fucking mirrors!", and walked away with his hand still out-stretched awaiting a hand shake that would never be reciprocated. For the next couple of years after that I was battling the good that I felt people had in them versus my father's sentiments that "All white people are racist!!".
Based on the fact that one of my fantasies is to fill Janeane Garofalo out like an application is proof that good prevailed over evil, but hearing someone expose their racism not only isn't shocking to me, but who fucking cares anyway?? I mean, when somebody like Richards spews some sort of racial epithet people want him to apologize on every television show in existence, take sensitivity classes, say 40 Hail Mary's, learn "Welcome to the Terrordome" verbatim, masturbate to an issue of "Black Tail", or some other form of PR rehabilitation that isn't needed because at the end of the day I'm glad that he said it because now I know where he stands and not to fuck with him.
I feel that there are more important matters anyway, like the stereotypes that people live their life by and the racial fears that they have held close to their chests for as far back as they can remember. Hell, people who would never dare say the dreaded N-Word still might clutch their purse when a black male walks by, think that all Hip Hop songs advocate the killing of police officers, and that the black male is intellectually inferior and lazy, these widely held beliefs by people are far more dangerous and destructive than a racial epithet that someone with a lack of vocabulary spits out moments before they are spitting out teeth. Therein lies my dilemma, I noticed the other day that instead of blasting people for their fears and stereotypes, even going against my better judgment and schooling them on black folks, I have eased their racially fears even by the subtlest of actions. Let me break it those examples down.
I recently flashed a smile at an old lady: A few weeks ago I found myself in this fancy-shmancy hotel in downtown Norfolk, trying to get some late-night ass from this woman from California that I had drunkenly wooed in a bar a few nights earlier. Yes, I'm a germaphobe who fears nothing more than casual sex that results in me washing my balls in the sink immediately after the act and a few nervous visits to the clinic in the months to following, but I distinctly remember the woman saying how much she loved giving "mouth-hugs" so I knew that there was a good chance that I could get serviced without having to reciprocate, or even have to part a set of roast-beef flaps that I was unfamiliar with. She was on the 20th floor so I approached the elevator and catch the doors before they close, noticing an elderly woman in her 70's standing in the corner of said elevator. After I punch the 20 button on the elevator I lean back against the other side of the elevator, wondering how this chick is going to react after I attempt to bounce after leaving her with a mouth full of monkey spit, then I look over and notice that the woman is not only clutching her purse but she is gently shaking. I mean, I am a chubby black guy with extremely long-dreadlocks and a grizzly Adams beard, sort of looking like a black Jesus with a thyroid problem, but I don't think I'm that scary. Anyway, I found myself flashing the woman a welcoming smile and hitting her with some small talk to ease her fears, and act that I immediately became ashamed of. I mean, why should I try to ease the racial fears of this dusty broad anyway?? Looking back, I should have gone on and on about my recent acquittal, and how stupid the D.A was because of his failure to pin those decapitated heads of all those elderly white women I had in my freezer on me. But I didn't, I just farted silently before I got off the elevator and laughed at the thought of her dying at my digested steak and eggs "Denny's" breakfast, and as the door closed I kept screaming "Do you smell that racism!!! Do you smell it!!!" Yes, I'm immature.
I moved to the other side of the lane one dark night: I have no idea why I was in that soulless monument of consumerism that is "Wal-Mart", but I was there for some reason late one night. As I walked to my car on the left side of one parking lot lane I saw a small white woman approaching the store on that same side. I saw her body clinch up, her eyes widen, and she acted as if she was about to be abducted by aliens and get the business end of an anal probe. Do you know what my dumb ass does, I switched to the other side of the lane to put this fucking broad at ease. What kind of mind-fuck is that exactly, what in the fuck is wrong with me?? I guess I could be less upset with myself if I consciously said, "OK, I'm going to make this Caucasian woman feel comfortable!!", no, I did it unconsciously the same way boxers have that muscle memory and know without thinking to throw that right hook as soon as his opponent throws his left jab. Looking back, I thought that I should have just stayed in that lane, and when I got beside her screamed "Boo!!" or some shit, but her heart might have exploded out of her chest.
I went on and on about politics, haiku poems, even transcendentalism: I went to this trendy bar with an artist friend of mine last week, a watering hole where failed poets, wanna-be intellectuals, and people of that ilk can be found ruining their livers. As me and my boy were chatting it up, some of his friends come to our table and started talking about politics and other issues of the day, I just sat there quiet and listened because I was trying to get drunk and me talking about the incompetence of Bush would have slowed that agenda down. Then, all of a sudden, one of them looks to me and says "OK, we are excluding this gentleman from the conversation.. Lets change topics, so, what do you think of the new jay-Z album??" in the most condescending way. My boy gave me a "please don't beat his ass" look, so instead of socking the guy I somehow felt the need to show these gentleman how much smarter I was than them, talking about everything from politics, haiku poems, even transcendentalism.. Looking back, I had nothing to prove to these ass-hats, I shouldn't have to enlighten every Caucasian person in the world like its my birthright to do so. So as me and my boy smoked a cigarette outside, as he praised me for my restraint, one of the guys that I was speaking with earlier walks up to me and says, "You know, you are a pretty smart fella. I just wanted to tell you how much of an honor it was.." *Whap* That's when I hit that motherfucker mid sentence, him falling on the ground, with me bending over and whispering in his ear "If you ever talk down to me again I'll fucking kill ya, I'll fucking kill ya!!" That's when me and my friend walked off, me turning to him and saying "I just dispelled one stereotype and perpetuated another on, Shit!!"