Cartoons

It may be the first known case of a sportscaster being traded for a cartoon character. Then again, there’s not really much difference between the two species anyway, is there?

And speaking of cartoon characters (by “cartoon character”, I’m referring to the author of this piece, and not to Curious George):

Not only does the story reveals the sinister side of a corrupt wildlife trade with perilous roots in Western imperialism, but recent ethical, legal and scientific considerations on the personhood of primates makes a traditional reading of Curious George both impossible and irresponsible.

She’s joking, right? Does anyone really write a sentence using phrases like “scientfic considerations on the personhood of primates” and not expect people to start howling with laughter?

Did I mention how happy I am that I get my husband back tomorrow? I was going to show a picture of my big grin, but my religion doesn’t allow visual representations of myself. At least not when they’re unflattering…

That Word

Somehow, I missed the news about Al Sharpton’s issue with certain language in the TV version of The Boondocks until I read about it in the comic strip version this week. Today’s journal entry, though, is not so much about that controversy as it is about the trend for news outlets to use the cutesy term “the n-word” instead of the real word in question, which is “nigger”.

There. I typed it. Do you find the word rather repulsive? Yeah, so do I. That’s the point, after all. It’s hard to demostrate how offensive a word can be without using the actual word. When newspapers use stupid euphemisms like “the n-word”, the word is stripped of its outrageousness, and it sounds like nothing more severe occurred than little Betsy Wetsy saying “I have to tinkle.” In fact, it makes the whole thing sound sort of cute and endearing, like a fight between Bobby and Cindy Brady.

Surely no one could really object to the use of the word “nigger” in the context of a discussion about the use of that very word, could they?

I remember once, many years ago, that my grandmother was talking about a man she knew. She whispered the word “homosexual” but defined it out loud it as “you know, in love with another man.” In her universe, the word was apparently more upsetting and delicate than the idea behind it. It’s apparently the same for most newspapers.

If someone is using words like “nigger” or “spic” or “faggot”, I want to know about it. They’re not using cute little sanitized family-friendly words and I don’t want to read some wimpy newspaper’s cute little sanitized family-friendly minimization that masks the impact of what was really said.

What I Like About the South

That’s what I like about the south:

  • Standing in line at the cafeteria behind the elderly Chinese couple who are having chicken pie, black-eyed peas, and turnip greens.
  • Talking to the very proper, almost geeky librarian who tries to supress her southern accent, but — if given the opportunity — wouldn’t get rid of it entirely for anything in the world.
  • Knowing that any small town big enough to have a Wal-Mart Supercenter probably also still has a daily newspaper.

Mood Lifter

I can wake up in the bleakest, nastiest of moods and feel as happy as a clam after a few hours spent in the library and a few dollars spent on photocopies. In fact, I can only think of two other things that can make me that happy that fast. One of them is food and the other isn’t — or is, depending on how you’re mind is working today.

I had a realization today, one that I’ve had before and will probably have again. There’s probably no better career choice for me than to become a librarian. Whenever I think of it, I can’t come up with any compelling arguments against it aside from the potential of having to deal with the public. It’s something I really need to think more about.

But now I’m going to read about the grand opening of Charlotte’s first self-service A&P store in 1938.