On Telling People Off, the Nice Way.

Great YouTube video, snagged from Racialicious on 'how to tell people they said something racist.'



So, so true what this man says, especially the part about deflection away from the spoken act towards a consideration of the speaker's character. From that 'nappy headed ho' character to the most recent cover of the New Yorker, individual and corporate accountability gets flushed out the window when the speakers start to deflect the blame.

I'll admit to not being so successful in the calling people out program, as I go straight for the jugular to calling them racist. At the same time, by the time I've actually gotten around to calling them racist, I've been around them long enough to have witnessed multiple incidents of f-upedness along the way- meaning, I try to reserve this comment for those I've simply had enough of, not the one-time slip or misspoken 'joke'. Let's just say these conversations never end well, but damn if it doesn't feel good to tell someone off every once in a while.

So, who do we need to have a 'you said something racist' conversation with these days? Any suggestions, folks?

Sheepishly wandering back

It's been almost a year since my last blog post here, dear friends. If any of you are still reading, thanks for your patience. I can't promise much now (oh, the joys of grad school) but I need to at least try to get back on the wagon.

I thought of this blog in the fall when, mired in episodes of the first (I can't believe there is already a second!) A Shot of Love with Tila Tequila, I pondered the radical potential for queer love on reality tv, and promptly threw it away once that little hussy dumped dear Dani. Oh, Dani. The first contestant on a reality dating show I actually believed was really after some love. So butch, so tender, and with fabulous muscle tone. Once Tila chose that numbskull, Bobby, I found myself really upset and angry. Then it hit me... was I hating Tila, or myself? Why was I so upset that Tila, an avowed bisexual, had picked a boy over a girl? Did this mean she was really straight? Did this mean she was a self-hating bisexual? Or... did it mean she was exercising her sexuality freely? Bisexual invisibility is a bitch, isn't it?!

I thought of this blog again when, in a fit of desperation during the writers' striker, I started watching shows like October Road and Eli Stone, and (gasp!) really enjoying them. What's not to love about worlds free of angry brown people, queers, and feminazis? Feel the pain of love and loss right there with those white kids in Boston or SF or wherever it may be. Sadly, I found myself identifying more with the hometown-boy-made-good character of Nick Garrett (from October Road)than that free-wheeling Asian American bisexual Tila Tequila. Again, this prompted a crisis of identity I wished I could share on this blog. Alas, the moment passed.

Oh, and Lost! The things I could have written about Lost! All I need to say is this: the day Desmond dies is the last episode of this show I will ever watch. And you can quote me on that.

Not to mention this business called Election 2008, the state of hip-hop today (I was the last to hear about "Wow", and that truly made me sad), and my first ventures in sci fi and real comics (not graphic novels)! So many things, and radio silence from me. A damn shame.

Dear blog family, I am so sorry for having left you all this time. It's hurt me as much as it's hurt you. I'll be back soon, I promise.

Junebugs

Sorry, dear friends, for the lapse in posting. I finished up my first year in grad school just two weeks ago and have been trying to regain my sanity since then. I'm sure you didn't need me anyway, you pop-savvy bunch. It's been business as usual: folks waited/are waiting in line for a silly little white phone; Ann Coulter is still a lunatic; NYC lost power again; and those nasty girls are still at it: Britney, Paris, and probably Firecrotch too.

And HELLO people, I can't believe no one told me about the director's cut of the J.T. video for "What Goes Around Comes Around"! What kind of friends are you?!? If you haven't seen this, do. It's epic-ly overacted and overblown like mid-90s R. Kelly. Not up to par with "Keep it on the Down Low" (how can you top Ron Isley?), but still pretty amazing for its sheer audacity.



Not to give too much away (the lyrics are pretty obvious), but when J.T. catches Scarlett cheating on him (around minute 6) the scene is so raw it kind of stings. Who hasn't had the following heated exchange with a partner-- "You don't know me!" "I fucking know you! I know you!" Maybe it's just my terrible history with people, but I've been down that road before. Minus the whole cheating, Justin walking in, kicking dude's ass, etc. etc. So, actually I haven't been down that road. Whatever. You get it.

So... the world keeps going round and round. I'll be back when something exciting happens. Stay cool in the heat, folks!

Filipino vibes?

So maybe it's a tangent, but I'm wondering if Orientalism has made its way into sex toys under the radar. Yes, we all know about Asian fetishes in pornography and other horrible racist/sexist/heterosexist depictions of Asian men and women endemic to US popular culture. But what of supposedly sex-positive and women-friendly sex toys that invoke tropes of liberatory travel by alluding to the exotic 'other'?

Case in point:
Babeland, formerly Toys in Babeland, is the premier women-owned queer-friendly adult store in the country. They are at the forefront of forwarding body-positive expressions of sexuality that are not limited to following proscribed norms about gender and sexual orientation/practice. In short, I love them.

So they're now carrying this new toy, the "Laya Spot," whose description reads: "Tuck the splashproof Laya Spot in your backpack next to your travel guide and prepare for a fantasy getaway. Breeze through customs, enjoy a buzz in the surf and massage the kinks out of road-weary muscles. An ergonomic shape and three distinct buzz patterns will make even at-home use seem like a vacation from ordinary sex toys."

So what's the big deal here? I mean, there are fluffy descriptions all the time in these kinds of write-ups; it's not like they're selling utilitarian things like trasch cans or power tools (well...). Intentionally or not, something about this name and description hits a nerve with me; perhaps it's because "Laya" means "freedom" in Tagalog, and my what a telling story this little vibrator makes on a one-page description.

For the liberated Western consumer, you can buy a little piece of plastic that will transport you away, or even better, perhaps a plane ticket to a 'fantasy getaway' filled with all the sex and love you could ever want. What then of the Filipino, the one who actually understands what the word "Laya" means but so very rarely can experience 'freedom' herself? What of the constant sexual exploitation Filipina women in the Philippines and all over the world (thanks, labor export policies!) are subjected to, for the purposes of fullfilling western consumer's needs for cheap labor (which produces cheap goods) and more importantly, warm bodies for which the western sexual consumer can possess not only symbolically (through the ownership of a "Laya Spot") but also materially (through the purchase of a Filipina prostitute or domestic worker).

The fact is that most people who go onto Babeland's site are 1) most likely female-identified, 2) potentially queer-identified or queer-friendly, and 3) generally think of themselves as progressive folks. And all those things are probably true. But does that mean that these folks will understand the implications of a toy being named the "Laya Spot," and how that by purchasing such a toy actually feed into a culture that exoticizes and eroticizes Filipina women for the purposes of sexual consumption? Probably not. Shoot, I probably wouldn't had I not been so steeped in thinking about and working with these issues (by choice) nearly every day for the past five years.

Am I calling for a boycott of Babeland, sex toys, of the Laya Spot? No. I am just musing on the implications, no matter how unintentional, our liberated western sexual freedom has on others whose only choices are based on basic survival.

May media update

a list, if you will:

- Bjork's new album, Volta, is her best effort since Homogenic. Medulla was unlistenable, an aural rendition of the idiocy that passes for Matthew Barney's performance art. Vespertine was sweet but ultimately too quiet and forgettable. I was worried the Timbaland-produced tracks would flop, and granted "Earth Intruders" sounds half-baked, like they forget to stir in the bass, but overall they weren't as jarring as feared. I know "Declaration of Independence" is slated to be the third single, but are you serious? This, along with the first duet with Antony from Antony and the Johnsons, has got to the most irritating track on the album. Am loving "Wanderlust" to pieces. Really wish I had made it out to Coachella to see her perform this album, but who wants to get sunburned in the desert anyway? (I'm totally jealous, am trying to get over the pain.)

- The National's third full-length release, Boxer, is slated for May 22nd, though they have the full album up for preview on their myspace page already. I am not disappointed at all, though I miss some of the fierceness (mmm, boys growling) that undergirded Alligator. It's a much prettier album, I'll say that much. Got to hear "Fake Empire" and "Start a War" last fall while they were on tour, and those tracks are solid- though "Fake Empire" drags a bit more in the album version than live. Current standouts tracks for me are "Mistaken for Strangers," "Squalor Victoria," and "Apartment Story," though you know I'll be listening to the whole album all. summer. long. Ever the troopers, The National's touring now and will be through the summer, with a few opening gigs for Arcade Fire mixed in with their headliner shows. Catch them if you can- they put on a fantastic live show.

-- It's basically been a Gael Garcia Bernal lovefest in my house lately; I've been catching up on movies I've been long overdue to see (thanks, corporate video rental place!). Almadovar's Bad Education was stunning- absolutely heartbreaking and Gael's twisted character is among his best. I've also been watching and re-watching Michel Gondry's The Science of Sleep. If you'll remember, Gondry is the music video director (for Bjork, among others) that went on to feature length films. This effort is far more complex and resolves much less cleanly than his mainstream hit Eternal Sunshine. There are points in the film where Gael's character, Stephane, is so pathetic I don't know whether I want to hug him or slap him. A lovely, dreamlike film about memory, loss, and love that you shouldn't miss.

Ok, nothing more for now. This little broke grad student is heading to New York, then Paris for the week!

GREAM (Google Rules Everything Around Me)

It takes a minute to get used to, but this new iGoogle customizable webpage is the shizz. Finally, an aesthetically-pleasing home page where I can view my Gmail, news, blog feeds, weather, and random other things (Sesame Street terror levels, live webcam photos of the Eiffel Tower, for example) in one place. One of the themes you can set, "Tea House," is particularly cute- the little fox in the landscape does different things depending on what time of the day it is. Right now he's looking through the telescope at the stars. What can I say- I'm a sucker for anthropomorphsized animals.

Any particularly interesting little gadgets you have on your iGoogle? Seems like the possibilities are endless, and I'm curious to see what makes it on your front pages! If I could figure out how to do it, I'd so put up a screenshot of mine.

By way of (yet another) shameless promotion, here's a link you can click to get my popcult blog syndicated on your iGoogle homepage or show up on your Google RSS reader. Just in case you really really wanted it, or something. It's also now permanently featured on the right sidebar, directly above the search function.

In Our Dark Heart, by Esther Yoon-Ji Kang

'It could have been anybody'
By Esther Yoon-Ji Kang

April 22, 2007

On the morning after Monday's massacre at Virginia Tech, I awoke to news that the gunman from the deadliest shooting rampage in U.S. history had been identified.

My fears from the night before -- when all we knew about the killer was that he was an Asian man in a T-shirt and ammunition vest -- were confirmed: He was, like me, Korean-American.

Never mind that this was, at its core, a great human tragedy or that the gunman, Seung Hui Cho, was deeply disturbed and reportedly depressed. Never mind that, with his anti-social behavior and unspeakable act of violence, he had more in common with Oklahoma City bomber Timothy McVeigh than with me.

All I could think about was Cho's "Korean-ness" -- his yellow skin, his black hair, his difficult-to-pronounce name and his parents with the dry-cleaning business and modest townhouse in Centreville, Va.

"It really could have been anybody," said Ji-Yeon Yuh, an associate professor of history and director of the Asian American Studies Program at Northwestern University. "His ethnicity, his immigrant background, his race -- the things so emphasized in the media -- are not crucial to the violence that he perpetuated."

I grew up in northern Virginia, not far from where Cho's family lives. My family immigrated to the U.S. when I was 9, about the same age as Cho when he arrived here. My brother attended the University of Virginia, just a couple of hours from Tech, and I came to Chicago to attend Northwestern. Like Cho's parents, my folks, who have worked a dozen different jobs in our 18 years in the States, have tried their hand at dry cleaning, the ubiquitous job for many Korean-American immigrants.

Thinking of our shared history, I recalled my first day of school in America, when I didn't know a lick of English and my teachers scrambled to find a translator for me. I pictured my older brother as a college student in Charlottesville, feeling homesick and lonely during those first few weeks. When I imagined Cho's parents grieving in seclusion, all I could see were the faces of my own mother and father.

It is strange to identify in so many ways with the perpetrator of one of the most horrific murder sprees in recent history. Yet I was not alone. After the slayings, many Korean leaders responded with statements of deep sorrow.


'Troubled and saddened'

The Korean-American Association of Chicago released a statement in which Gil Young Kim, the association's president, said he was "troubled and saddened" to find that the gunman was from the Korean-American community. News reports said the South Korean president and foreign minister offered condolences, as did UN Secretary General Ban Ki Moon, formerly South Korea's foreign minister.

Many leaders worried that the tragedy would result in prejudice toward Korean-Americans. A Washington Post headline quoting a young Korean-American woman from northern Virginia read, "
'Every Korean Person Is So Very Sorry.'
" I don't remember the last time a horrible crime by a single person evoked such a collective apology.

A Korean-American community leader told the Los Angeles Times, "As if the killing weren't bad enough, it was one of our children who did it."

"Our children." That is such a Korean sentiment. I've known this -- though not always liked it -- all my life. Korean sons and daughters are not just the children of one set of parents; for better or worse, we carry with us the weight of an entire people's expectations.


Strong solidarity

Andrew Sung Park, a professor who specializes in Korean studies at the United Theological Seminary in Trotwood, Ohio, said Koreans feel such strong solidarity with one another because of the history of their native land and the shared adversity among its people -- including foreign invasions, the Japanese occupation, the Korean War and immigration resulting in the loss of their homeland.

"We have a very strong geopolitical connection with one another, and there is a feeling that we are all related by blood," said Park, the author of "Racial Conflict and Healing: An Asian-American Theological Perspective," which explores identity and culture.

Park also said that many Asians belong to a "culture of apology."

"I think the apologies stem from this feeling that we didn't take good care of one of our own," he said. "Because [Korean-Americans] are a very small minority, we have this kind of feeling of being responsible for all our brothers."

Northwestern's Yuh said that while the expressions of sorrow, grief and identification from the Korean community are appropriate on a human level, the sense of shame and fear of retaliation and prejudice against Korean-Americans speak more to the state of racial politics in the nation.

"That fear that Koreans had -- 'Please let him be some other Asian' -- is a direct response to the racial politics of our nation," she said. "If someone who is not white commits this kind of horrific crime, then our racial politics says that this becomes a stigma on the entire racial collective. If a white person commits a crime, well, then it's an individual thing. They blame it on the specific perpetrators, the subculture, their marginalization. But it is not a reflection of white Americans at large."

Muslims and Arabs -- and anyone thought to be Muslim or Arab -- can attest to that after the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks. So the emphasis, Yuh said, should be on the fact that this was an American crime and a human tragedy.

"We have to be careful not to demonize [Cho]," she said. "This young man needed help but did not get it for whatever reason. And he just became an extreme example of the worst in all of us, whether we're Korean, white, Latino or black."
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Esther Yoon-Ji Kang is the online editor for Chicago Magazine.

Copyright © 2007, Chicago Tribune