A friend on Teh Twitteh makes these really fun, really silly movies on this site. When I had read so many grant proposal outlines that my eyes began to cross yesterday, I decided to have a looksy. And I am HOOKED! I’m proud to present to you, dear reader, my first film, scripted from an actual IM convo I had some years back with a guy friend: “A Pinch Of Cockblock.” Enjoy!
Juuuuuuuuuuuust trying some stuff out.
Between 1996-1998, this song played on my Walkman EVERY DAY. Enjoi!
I recently had the pleasure of visiting New Orleans for the very first time. Having grown up in South Florida, the city by the river was intriguing, but not as big a draw for me as the metropolises that grace the Eastern seaboard. Going to New Orleans – with its similar swamps, oppressive torpor, casual appropriation of local Native American culture, and alligator jerky – sounded about as appealing as hanging out with a rowdy, sweaty cousin. However, years of being regaled with tales of every manner of fun that could be had in the Big Easy had intrigued me. NO ONE comes home without an epic anecdote. More than one jaded and well-travelled New Yorker in my circle got that faraway look in their eyes talking about New Orleans. My recent desire to explore the regional diversity of Southern cultures (I blame True Blood) and shake off some one-horse-town dust pretty much sealed the deal. So, with a deep breath and a few mouse clicks, I was ready to go.
And New Orleans didn’t disappoint. From the start, I was smitten: by the architecture, the streetcars, the museums, the sweetness of the regional drawl, the overpriced souvenir shops, the heavenly food, the decidedly French celebration of debauchery, and (sweet merciful McGillicutty!) the take away cup. By the second day of my trip I was calculating moving and living expenses. (Really. I was.) These were the thoughts that danced merrily in my little tourist head as I strolled down Chartres Street on my way from viewing the grounds of the Saint Louis Cathedral. I was feeling better than I had in weeks, maybe even months. So I was most unprepared to meet one resident of New Orleans who I would not soon forget.
This is Nola Mae.
Nola Mae is the “flagship” doll of the Big Lips: “The Better To Kiss You With” New Orleans Doll Company collection by New Orleans-based artist Jamie Hayes. The Big Lips dolls, which are “inspired by Nola Mae”, come in a range of flesh and hair tones. They all feature large round eyes and brightly colored outsized lips, sometimes with teeth. There are brides, grooms and even tux boys. Hayes, who counts Vincent Van Gogh among his influencers, favors unusual designs and exceptionally bright tones and shades in all his work. His unique style lends itself beautifully to just about anything with a Mardi Gras theme. The sense of childlike whimsy evident in the prints almost made me smile.
Inside the gallery
"King Mardi Gras" by Jamie Hayes
"Star Kitty" by Jamie Hayes
Almost.
To make sure I wasn’t imagining this upsetting showcase of non-malicious racism* I decided to get some outside feedback. I attached a picture of the Nola Mae doll and sent it via IM to a friend who I value for his cool-headed objectivity. His response:
Him: WHAT THE FUCK
Him: Where did you find that at
Me: Yeah…
Me: At a gallery.
Him: was it a Klan gallery
Him: that’s some racist shit
Him: is this something you bought
Me: ROFF! No, an artist here makes them.
Me: And get this: dude is colorblind. So I feel like an ass for feeling like this is kinda really racist.
Him: bullshit
Me: No, he is. He can’t see color.
Him: BULLSHIT
Me: It’s really bugging me.
Me: I don’t want to think about it while I’m trying to enjoy my stay here.
Him: knock something out when you get home
Him: DAMN that’s racist
Although I agreed, it would have been facile for me to dismiss some of these works as deliberately racist. I decided that it was a good idea to see what I could learn about the man behind Nola Mae.
Hayes’ simultaneous assertion of color blindness and admission of being “a bit of a fibber” notwithstanding, I do think that subconscious, non-malicious racism is responsible for the more racially troubling visual elements of his work. Hayes, a son of New Orleans, in all likelihood grew up with these images all around him, on products and in advertisements. Hayes may have absorbed – but never bothered to critically examine – these images. So while Hayes genuinely have no clue as to where his inspiration for Nola Mae came from, I think I have some idea.
Sigh.
With her large round eyes, exaggerated lips and beribboned braids, Nola Mae is a textbook example of the classic pickaninny caricature, our very own stateside version of the Golliwogg. There’s even an accompanying children’s book cataloguing her adventures. (I couldn’t bring myself to buy the book, not even for research. Apparently, Nola Mae does three special things in it, and if those things have anyting to do with singing, dancing, or chicken and watermelon, my head will explode. It’s worth noting that, per Hayes himself, Nola Mae came years before the book.) I wasn’t surprised to discover that the Big Lips and Voodoo dolls are best-sellers. I heard more than one coing visitor describe the dolls as “adorable” and ”precious.” An interesting and telling theme that has coalesced around the pickaninny is the idea that these images - grotesque, dehumanized and occasionally sexualized images of Black children - are “cute.” Not offensive, not racist, not disturbing and unwholesome. Cute. Similarly “quaint” and “charming” postcards with images of Mammy, Tom and Rastus litter just about every souvenir shop in the French quarter, and according to one of the store owners I asked, they’re quite popular with tourists.**
The fact that there has been a healthy market for the consumption of these images since their inception almost two centuries ago belies declarations of a “post-racial” modern society. What has emerged instead is a diabolically sophisticated narrative that combines tenets of “color blindness” and “tolerance” with post-racialism. The result: a system of rhetorical gaslighting that permits individuals to indulge in the most blatant kinds of old-school racism while simultaneously denying its existence. Postcards featuring stereotypical depictions of Black women, men and children aren’t racist, toxic and harmful; they’re “cute” and enjoyable, a nice takeaway for nice hard-working folks who probably voted for Obama, and might even have a Black friend.
The more things change…
*I define non-malicious racism as unintentional, subconscious, and/or non-violent racism. This isn’t to suggest that its effects are neutral – they clearly aren’t.
** The owner I spoke with also informed me that, while her store doesn’t carry “lynch” postcards, they are often requested by tourists. Read more about them here.
According to friend and friend of the blog Joseph, yesterday a Google-sponsored ad for the America Israel Public Affairs Committee (AIPAC) showed up on this post. After some enlightening (albeit upsetting) discussion with him about hasbara and new media, I discovered that WordPress does sometimes place ads related to a post’s content on a page. WordPress is a free service; this is how they sometimes pay the bills:
Note: To support the service (and keep free features free), we also sometimes run advertisements. We’ve tested a lot of different ad providers and currently use Google AdSense and Skimlinks. We try hard to make the ads discreet and effective and only run them in limited places. If you would like to completely eliminate ads from appearing on your blog, we offer the No-Ads Upgrade.
I guess I can’t really finger-point. I’ve done things I’m ashamed of for money, too. Now, those things typically involved flirting and some nudity as opposed to, say, compromising my ethics and personal integrity…but okay.
Who knows? Maybe I’m being unfair, judging AIPAC this way. I wouldn’t necessarily write off a kind and brilliant person with crippling body odor, and by the same token, I shouldn’t necessarily dismiss this organization because of a little surface stench. Really, there’s got to be more to AIPAC than its decades of relentless obfuscation and creepy air of menace, right?
Or not. o_O
We didn’t talk about it when this happened. Or this. Or this. Or this. Or this. Or this. Or this. And now, we have this.
So can we talk about it now? I mean, really. Can we talk about how condemning the actions of the Israeli government is common sense? Can we have this discussion without having it all boil down to ridiculous polarization and accusations of anti-Semitism? And can we openly condemn anti-Semitism when it does appear -because it will - and remain confident that doing so only strengthens the case for right? Can we just come the fuck out and say it when we see shit is WRONG, know that its WRONG, and call it what it is? Can we do that?
I know that economic sanctions are just not going down (it’s a nice thought, though, isn’t it?), but appalled citizens are welcome to join the ongoing ethical boycott. World, get better.
::: blink, blink :::
I know I talked about this before, but it bears repeating. I read this sign a few times with my mouth hanging open…proof positive that one can become stupefied by stupidity. Maybe that’s what these folks are going for? I don’t know. I DO know that these were the same assholes who sat with their thumbs up their apolitical butts whilst the previous administration initiated and escalated two concurrent wars-for-profit that made a small cadre of elites rich at the expense of several countries, including this one. I also know that they are LARGELY responsible for this chick’s continued relevance.
Sarah Palin, pre-$50K makeover, no doubt in the middle of saying something incredibly stupid.
Sarah Palin stepped down from governing Alaska in the midst of a national economic crisis to hitch her moosey wagon to the Tea Party’s star and publicly admonish the President to do his job. Seriously. THAT was her plan. She quit to criticize Obama and promote her book. Here’s what I said about that on Teh Twitteh. Parenthetically – if she insists on not fading quietly into obscurity (and she does), can we at LEAST stop calling Sarah Palin a “pageant queen”? She won Miss Congeniality. MISS CONGENIALITY. Hell, I could win Miss Congeniality, right now, sitting here in my funky ole t-shirt and pajama pants with the hole in the crotch. I’m just saying. (Oh, and here’s the sister woman who beat her ass swept the talent portion of the Miss Alaska pageant and was crowned Miss Alaska 1984. Go on ahead and smirk. I am.)
Maryline Blackburn. Singer. Model. Democrat.
One thing I’m glad about? It took the tea baggers and their more violent, extremist ”fringe” (I’d say “core” was more accurate, but okay…) to shock mainstream media out of its reluctance to call them what they are: xenophobic, anti-intellectual, racist, reactionary, anti-progress and most emphatically un-American. Oh, and stupid. Really, REALLY fucking stupid. Did I say that already? Eh. One more time couldn’t hurt.
Folks Who Like the Taste of Possum Stew!