MIchael Richards

I saw Michael Richards perform not too long ago. My husband and I went down to the Improv on a whim, just to catch whatever acts were going up that night. We were delighted to see that he was one of them.

Richards wasn't the headliner, but it was clear that the red light flashing at the back of the room wasn't for him. He definitely took the most time out of any of the comics who appeared that night and it was absolutely worth it.

There's been a shift in style from comics of a few decades past to the ones of today. Neither style is better or worse, but I will always hold a torch for the more longwinded, story-oriented jokes of yesterdecade. Comics today tend to be more rapid fire, quicker anecdotes. Set ups are shorter, punch lines come faster. In the world of 3-joke a page sitcoms, the talent behind them understandably follows suit in their performances.

But Richards was different. His routine was heavier. Not serious, just weighty. With very real points being made. The bulk of his bit had to do with pet dogs and zoos and it was hilarious! Every time I take my dog for a walk, I think of his routine and laugh again.

But something went terribly terribly wrong. Both last night on stage and somewhere in history that allows the lack of backlash we've seen since the video of Richards nearly threatening some black kids in his crowd hit the internet.

After Mel Gibson was arrested, you couldn't log on to more than two or three web pages without seeing another retelling of the "sugartits" incident. The columnists were on fire, sending out missives about Mel, his alcoholism and his unforgiveable anti-Semitism.

Random searches through the day today turned up one, maybe two links to anyone who seems to be moved to action by Richard's outburst.

In case you missed it, here it is.


This is bad enough, but what’s worse is the number of people I’ve heard today who have said “it’s not that bad.” Or “black comedians do this all the time.”

One, it IS that bad. Two, black comedians do not do this all the time. And if they did, I can promise you, the people who are affirming that it happens do not frequent the kinds of clubs where it would.

There is a difference between telling a joke and splashing your venom all over the stage. The latter is not funny. It’s not comedy. It’s sad.

It’s interesting that more than one person has defended Richards today. But when Mel Gibson made the same kind of comments about Jews, no one would dare defend him. Is it b/c we're more comfortable defending people who while they may not "be white" could at least pass in most circumstances.
In addition to the “it’s not that bad”s, I’ve also been reminded today (again by more than one person) about how if Richards’ comments were out of turn, well, it’s just that blacks bring the comments on themselves by being so violent and loving rape and broken homes the way they do. It’s the blacks’ faults for filling up the prisons and getting AIDS and failing the math and science portions of standardized tests.

To those people, let me remind you. POOR PEOPLE make up the majority of people in prison. POOR STUDENTS do worse on standardized tests. POVERTY creates situations where people are more likely to have children born out of wedlock. It’s not being black that does any of these things. And if you believe that it is a person’s race that determines their proclivity for violence, you are on a very slippery slope and I suggest you take a careful step off.

It’s an economic situation that breeds suffering and heartache and desperation. You will find the same kinds of prison/unmarried families/low scores on tests in most poor communities, not black ones. There are in fact, more genetic differences among people of one race than there are differences between the races themselves. Consider the kids who grew up with me. In the nice suburb with the man-made lakes and expensive vacations. We were all doing fine. Black, white, whatever.

And whether you’re one to believe it or not, there are institutions in place that keep minorities poor. White families were allowed to own property and get an education generations before it could become the norm for blacks. I don’t have to go too far back in my family tree to find relatives in forced labor. Things like that makes a difference.

I have a white friend who was arrested for shoplifting, yet when we would go to a high end store together, I was the one gets the extra looks.

I’ve been spat at. I’ve had teachers question me at length to explain why I like classical music as opposed to hip hop. I’ve had more than one person try to set me up with someone and when I ask what they're like they say, "well, he's black."

I had a college counselor tell me that it was good I was black, so I didn't have to be smart to go to college. Never mind that I’d taken all advanced/college level courses and had a 4.0 GPA.

I’ve been called the n-word to my face just for walking into a grocery store. (This was just 4 years ago, btw) words cannot describe how horrible and humiliating that feels. To walk into a reputable place of business, hear that, then look over to find a group of guys cracking up at the little nigger girl who just walked in....and who promptly walked out again.

The word is not funny. It never has been. It never will be. And yes, there are black people who say it. Yes, black comedians. I don’t think it’s funny when they use it either. Though if anyone is going to handle the word, I’d rather it be someone in the family that someone outside of it. And I’ve had more than one white person tell me that’s unfair. Well, I say to them. Too bad. You have everything else. You’re the majority. You have the wealth. The power. The control. Let us have this.

Ideally, we would take the word, teach our children how awful it is and protect it. Keep it out of the hands of those who seek to do us harm through its use. Michael Richards was not trying to make a poignant statement the other night. He pulled a unique and decisive weapon out of his arsenal to make himself feel like the big man. The guy on the stage with the microphone and the power. And that’s not comedy. That’s sad

Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan

Fair warning, there are spoilers ahead. Not that these spoilers carry the same weight as telling you what the twist is at the end of the next M. Night Shamalyan movie that you totally couldn’t see coming, but I will give away bits of the movie nonetheless.

First thing first. You must see this movie.

Sacha (and yes, I will take the liberty of calling Mr. Baron Cohen by his given name) continues to do a great job at what he does so wonderfully. Making us cringe and laugh in the same breath at the wonder, folly and embarrassment of the human condition. And at rednecks.

One might say that this movie is offensive to people who live in Borat’s area of the world. As Borat walks us through his town, we see the village rapist and watch Borat make out with his sister who is also the “number four” prostitute in the village. The town is dilapidated and poor and Borat couldn’t be more proud of his roots.

But the thing is, we know this is a joke. We know that no matter where you go in the world, a man educated enough to produce a documentary would not be proud to stick his tongue into his sibling. We know that no town is proud of their local rapists. We know that while people may mix up English verb tenses in other countries, at least they have the respect to learn another language in the first place.

We are not really shocked until Borat comes to America and we see parts of our heartland for what it is.

For those of you who follow the show, it will come as no surprise that Borat makes people very uncomfortable and it’s effing hilarious when he does it. For those of you who don’t follow his show, stop reading this blog and rent Da Ali G Show immediately, watch it, then pick up where you left off.

But this blog isn’t about how great Sacha Baron Cohen’s acting skills are, it’s about minority representation in TV and film.

What Sacha is great at as a performer, is getting people to be frightfully honest. Most of the time this scares us because that honesty leads them to gleefully shout phrases like “throw the Jew down the well” and tell a cameraman that they want to hang all the gays from gallows.

Most of the time, the honesty we see from Baron Cohen’s show is great because it’s nothing like us. It’s a reflection on other people in other places who are stuck in some other time. But there’s a great moment in Borat that forces us to realize we’re not all that different. Maybe we don’t say things out loud in front of strangers, but the nastiness is inside of us nonetheless.

About 30 minutes into the movie, Borat and his producer are on the road to California and they drive through Atlanta. We see a close up of a sign reading “Martin Luther King, Jr. Blvd.” And there is an audible “oh shit” from the audience.

We’ve all heard the comedic bit about how MLK streets are always in the worst neighborhoods. Dangerous places that Dr. King tried to prevent from taking root. And from what we know of Borat, we’re pretty sure that he’s about to get his ass capped.

And that includes me. A woman of color who tries to avoid selling out my own people. But even my hackles were up and I was afraid for Sacha.

Borat and his producer drive up next to three or four black guys playing craps on the street. He, very much unafraid, gets out of the car and engages the young men who clearly have no idea what to make of this man.

And they turn out to be the nicest people in the movie.

Sure they’re casually dressed and definitely speak in what has been affectionately termed “African American English.” But they’re really nice guys who take Borat in for the few minutes he allows them. They treat him nicely and try to help him out in the ways that he asks. They don’t threaten him, they aren’t shown talking crap about him behind his back. They don’t make scary ass political statements about immigrants or gays. They’re just cool guys who want to help their new friend have some fun.

We all knew what we were expecting. A few scenes later, Borat gets booed out of a rodeo by frightening and nationalistic Texans. Most likely, everyone on the theater thought the same would happen with these black guys, but maybe with a glock and the shouting of the n-word. But it didn’t.

For the first time in a while, the black folks weren’t the scariest people in a movie, but they were still sincere and interesting characters. They weren’t squeaky-clean boys, but they weren’t hard-core thugs out for blood. They were just guys trying to live in the same country as the white folks at the rodeo who cheered when Borat said “And may George W. Bush drink the blood of every man, woman and child in Iraq!

God bless you SBC. And God bless America.