So there's this uproar both from Barack Obama and from sources far around the political spectrum from him regarding the cover of the New Yorker, which I believe would intentionally damage Barack Obama about as much as I believe the son of god (any god) was begotten by a human woman and the child went on to do wondrous deeds.
The feeling of offense must be genuinely felt by Obama's supporters, among whom I don't classify myself (I'm one of his voters, but I wouldn't say I think he's the best candidate), because many of them get the New Yorker and like it's tone, generally. And in a sense, it is a funny cartoon, not aimed at Obama at all, but using him as the subject. The problem is that, being a political cartoon, and being a quite sophisticated joke, it is killed by the fact that there just isn't a lot of room for humor surrounding Barack Obama becoming the President of the United States of America.
In particular, the time surrounding his inauguration is a sensitive subject for his backers, who fear assassination (and for good reason of course). And more broadly, for people of leftist ideologies in general, the chilling effect of his assassination, yet another liberal Icon murdered in the long 20th century, would likely send shockwaves through the country. Drawing a picture, however funny it may be on a sophisticated level, that might easily be considered emblematic by the opposition, whether by isolated fundamentalists or by the broader conservative movement, while it isn't exactly irresponsible, is just effing scary.
There's just not a lot of room for humor surrounding the topic of Barack Obama becoming President. I mean, an unsophisticated person, i. e. an idealized voter of the red state presidential strategy, might easily look at that picture, go "Yeah, that's exactly what we're going to have if that nigger becomes President; a Black Muslim Anti-American Militant and his Black Bitch of a wife."
There's just not a lot of room for humor surrounding the topic of any black man doing something for the first time. Doesn't everyone know what a cross it was for Jackie Robinson to bear, being the first black man in Major League Baseball? How all his career, spikes would be turned up at him covering second base, how he was under near constant death threats all his life.
There's just not a lot of room for humor surrounding the topic of a black man risking his life to do something a white man might dream of doing all his life without the slightest knowledge that people of other backgrounds must fear for their lives when aspiring to the same ambition.
I don't blame the New Yorker for trying; heck, maybe they hoped to elicit that passionate response from the left, to stir emotions in preparation for the final campaign. I think that's basically the actual result, but really publishing it seems a lot like playing with fire in the old fireworks warehouse.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
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