Tuesday, November 14, 2006

I'm Not Racist. Some Of My Best Friends Know Black People.

Roots, Episode 2
USA, 1977
Marvin J Chomsky, John Erman, David Greene, Gilbert Moses

Wow. After the powerful message of racial tolerance of the first episode of Roots, I didn't think there was more I could possibly learn. I thought I had absorbed enough valuable lessons from the first show (black people come from Africa, racism is bad), but it seems I still have a ways to go before I become either black, or Quentin Tarantino. In the last episode, slavers from America travel up the river Gambia to harvest a fresh crop of Negroes, whom as I understand it live an idyllic, pastoral existence in Africa not unlike Ewoks, but with a worse grasp of English. Among the batch netted and sent across the ocean is a young Geordie LaForge, who helps organize a revolt on the ship caused by the horrific living conditions and poor selection of Holodeck programming. In addition, he falls in love with a colored woman on sight. Also, apparently I'm an enormous idiot who requires ham-fisted proselytizing to understand my own prejudice. So be it.

The slave ship that brought Goerdie Laforge to America.

In this episode, the revolt rises and fails, and Geordie is bought and sold to a plantation owner. Separated from his imaginary girlfriend, Geordie makes a new friend on the farm in the form of that guy from Iron Eagle. Presumably, this is Geordie's first introduction to the science of engineering, and LaForge and Iron Eagle no doubt while away the summer nights with plenty of corn whiskey and talk of aerofoils. Geordie escapes, then is recaptured, and falls in love again with another woman he mistakes for the first one, apparently having just as much trouble distinguishing the coloreds as I do. I learned a great deal from this episode. Mainly, I learned about the roots of the socio-economic slavery that still plagues the colored community. I already knew that this link existed, but I hadn't realized that this slavery extended to picking tobacco as well as fucking up my order at Burger King and working the Lost and Found counter at the Buffalo bus station. Now that I know, I'll be more appreciative of the tobacco I roll into my Philly blunts, as well as the black guy I buy the drugs from. I can't wait for the lessons of episode three.


Blogger nijaz said...

I'm colored but what the hell...it's fucking true.

Except my great great great grandfather was just shipped downriver in a continent of a country called India.

And Australia has only one language...

4:13 a.m.  
Blogger Jerk Of All Trades 2.0 said...

....the language of Beer.

8:20 a.m.  
Blogger nijaz said...

And Foster's advertised as Australias beer cannot be found in Australia. Damn I should have guessed. Weren't they all shipped from gaols?

5:09 p.m.  
Blogger Jerk Of All Trades 2.0 said...

Who are you...Arthur Conan Doyle?

Um...I have no idea why I'm commenting like its my blog.

I miss Zilla.

6:24 p.m.  
Blogger Ash Karreau said...

She's in New York. She'll be back in a week. Try and hold on till then.

6:27 p.m.  
Blogger nijaz said...

Arthur Conan Doyle was addicted to cannabis. I'm addicted to something else. I just can't read the label at this state.

English language is funny. Gaol is pronounced the same as jail. The normal Brits are funny too. Can't imagine how the rapists shipped down under would have been like? Did they make a movie on them? Well someone ought to. That would have a lot of sex. And rape. (I can see someone smiling.)

10:10 p.m.  
Blogger Jerk Of All Trades 2.0 said...

No, I mean I MISS HER. I can get her lined up in the scope, but then she walks behind a tree or I'm not quick enough on the trigger....

That hotdog vendor was probably asking for it anyway.
The Mime was on purpose.

2:15 p.m.  
Anonymous broadzilla said...

I'd say something bitter and condescending about race-relations in Africa, but now that I'm living large - OK, in a crappy hostel - in a world-class economy - OK, the United States, you know... outta sight, outta mind.

2:25 p.m.  

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