I grew up in the 1980s, and entered my teens as they turned into the 1990s. I knew old-school parenting: I remember not fastening my seat belt on the backseat and sleeping on that weird place separating it from the trunk. I remember reciting the ABCs in kindergarten (or was that pre-school?), and moving on to ''sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me'' in elementary school.
And when I was 11, a Chinese student stood up in front of a tank in Tiananmen Square and suddenly, even broken bones didn't seem so bad.
Oh how we get soft fast.
Political correctness grew like cancer and poisoned our society to levels unimaginable in 1988 when it was still a joke. Don't get me wrong: I am fully aware that not all humans are treated equally in any given country, let alone from one to the next, that racism is still both institutionalized and prevalent even in the Land Of The Free, and, within the borders I myself inhabit (notice I'm not using the word ''country''...) gender equality - which used to be a given and what was believed to be the basis of our society to some extent, and my father will argue that it led to the ''womanization'' (read: super-sensibility) of the masses, though I fully, entirely and completely disagree - is under attack at both the federal and provincial levels, so pretty much everywhere. So, yes, I realize there is plenty of reason out there for outrage, anger, fighting (for your rights), heated debates, compromise, rebuilding and evolving.
But there shouldn't be so much room for victimization.
Particularly, we have to stop being offended by words and pictures. And not just those of the Prophet, by the way. I'll get to pictures later, because the real reason I'm writing this post today is a post on Louder Than War on Monday talking about ''censorship'' and shitty band names.
This month's culprit of bad taste is Viet Cong, but a few years ago in my own town there was Rape Faction, and the 1980s saw Joy Division (a Nazi reference), New Order and Dead Kennedys get questioned for their wit (or lack thereof).
Just to ''clear the air'' (though it won't): Nazis were bad people, rape is the worst or second-worst thing you can do to a human, totalitarian states are not fun, and murdering political figures (and normal humans) is questionable at the very least.
But not only was there always offensive shit in music (Did you know all of Mozart's piece titles were actually scatological references? What kind of backlash do you think Robert Johnson got for having made a deal with the Devil so he could play guitar well enough to steal everybody's else's wife as he so clearly states in over half his songs? Remember how Murder Was The Case they gave Snoop Doggy Dogg, who was on trial for murder a year later? How many heavy metal acts were accused of inspiring suicides? Don't get me started with Marilyn Manson, perhaps the smartest but also least dangerous figure of pretend-satanism...), but a lot of it is (gasp!)... on purpose!
When I was in New York (1998-99), there was a band who named themselves Gay Dad. It was mostly funny, but some got outraged, usually super-conservative types; nowadays, that would probably also offend the LGBT community, even though the band itself had no issue with any cause they might have.
There's a part in the article I linked to above where Viet Cong talk about receiving tons of complaint letters, including one from someone whose grandparents were killed by the army known as the Viet Cong (1959-1975). I want to say two things:
1. The band may have done your grandparents a favor by being such insensitive pricks, because as of yesterday morning, I had no idea they (your ancestors) had even existed, and now they have entered my brain as people who have suffered at the VC's hand.
2. The fact that the band stupidly went ahead and called themselves that has the added benefit of people - particularly kids who are 14-29 at the moment and have no fucking education to speak of - now looking it up and finding out more about Human History. And, believe it or not, that's good.
That's not to say the band get off scot-free: they were ignorant when they went ahead and called themselves that (they really had no clue and just thought it sounded cool), and they're assholes for continuing to go with it now that they know who they were, and choosing not to use it as a tool to educate people on the history I just touched upon.
I repeat: they're free to be stupid and call themselves that, but you're free to call them out as assholes.
Can we not go back to just calling out the assholes instead of being afraid of their band's name? As long as they don't use your fucking name to discredit it (people I know were in a band called the Bill Cosby Anarchist Society of America, that's debatable even in spite of what he's not-quite-yet-officially-accused of), I don't give a fuck if a band calls itself Dyke Nigger Nazi Inbreds Of French Decent (''Maroon 5'' for short), it's their cross to bear and no one should cry over it, even if there was a concentration camp survivor from 1944 who marched on Selma in 1965 only to get shot in the Stonewall riots in 1970 (spoiler alert: there wasn't).
Censorship is always bad, anti-liberal, and undemocratic. Toronto band Fucked Up incited a re-write of an entire tour funding program on account that one person was offended by their name. That's, well, fucked up. Just don't go to the fucking show you fucking asshole, no need to ruin it for everyone else.
Everybody wants to be an abused minority, for some reason. And instead of uniting and going for a ''Let's All Be Equal'' platform - which they could obtain because, well, when combined, they'd easily be a majority - they each want their piece of the pie and stomp on others along the way if need be.
Women make up 52% of the world right now, and in Québec universities, at least 60% of any field (some up to 90%), meaning as soon as the old men retire and/or die, they'll be the only ones even remotely qualified to be in charge - of everything.And the list goes on. This isn't meant as a sociocultural essay as much as a means to vent against those who cry wolf instead of standing up and making a meaningful change - for all, not just their own special-interest group.
I'll put myself in with ''the poor'', though I'm more of the ''working poor'' variety, but as a whole, we've metaphorically called ourselves the 99%; those of us in Canada who make less than $20K per year are probably not nearly that many, because the ''99%'' includes the middle class, but we do have decent numbers.
It's been generally accepted that 10% of the population is gay. That's a decent chunk. There's a stereotype that they have money, too, that could help their cause even more.
French-speaking Quebecers make up 85-90% of their territory, but less than a quarter of Canada's population. They're a super-minority on the continent, a minority in their guest country, and a majority in their annexed land - they're an anomaly, a fun one to look into if you're a history buff - I suggest you start with the writings of Howard Zinn if you're interested.
''Blacks'' (as Donald Trump likes to call them) represented roughly 15% of the U.S. when I was growing up, I think we're around 25% now, but if the United States want to play World Police, then should Black folks of the world combine, their numbers would rival China's - and their anger and right to protest might be unparalleled.
Aboriginals are actually the minorit-est of minorities, considering they are but a fraction of the numbers they once were and are consistently not provided for nor given the means to prosper, save for the corrupt few who are in charge and steal the rest of their tribe's cash - the way the rest of North America works.
And that's a point that encompasses something else that caught my attention this week, where clothing line company H&M created a host of fake metal bands to pretend to have a full roster of acts for its Heavy & Metal (get it?) line, complete with fake band websites, and fake songs.
So complete, in fact, that they tied two of those bands to the NSBM scene. Yes, fake white supremacist bands. So they can sell their t-shirts and patches:
A lot of my circle of friends were deeply offended by the whole idea. I'm torn between 25% of me finding it funny in an adolescent way, and 75% finding it the dumbest thing I've heard all week, but ''offended''? Nah. That black model in the picture looks angrier to have the world's worst agent than he is of wearing those patches (granted, none of them feature a swastika or anything), and I choose not to get offended by words, pictures, or stupidity.
I'm amazed by how idiotic of a species Mankind is, yes, most of the time. I wish we could repair our societies, our systems, or take a minute to create a new one. Yes. Of course. But there isn't much you can throw at me that'll ruin my day.
My ancestors were killed by the British, trying to protect their language, culture and identity - probably less than 100 yards of where I live right now, but here I am writing in English.
My sister died of cancer, and yet I watched X-Files and hated Cancer Man because he was evil, not because he chain-smoked.
Friends have died in street violence, and I've been a victim of sexual abuse - and yet I listen to 2Pac telling me he'll rape Notorious B.I.G.'s wife, then murder him. And in Toss 'Em Up, he calls Dr. Dre a ''faggot'', and yet I don't skip it when my gay friends come over. And I feel pretty much the same way as Louis C.K. (see: Chewed Up) about the word ''nigger'', and I've been listening to Patti Smith's Rock And Roll Nigger a lot this week as well.
''Actions speak louder than words''. ''Words will never hurt me''. It's about fucking time we start living up to the shit we taught our kids for centuries. Starting with ''All men (sic) were created equal''. If we can make that change, then maybe we can stop being afraid of words.
No comments:
Post a Comment