I'm Not Racist. Some Of My Best T-Shirts Are Black.
Marvin J. Chompsky, John Erman, David Greene, Gilbert Moses
I've learned a lot from Roots, through the television miniseries' subtle examination of the history of the African in America, tracing their journey from slavery to The Flavor of Love 2. I don't know what the crap is up with that show, but that seems an awfully tacky way to cap a 250-year journey, like ending a 5 course meal with a bucket of fried chicken. For those of you unfamiliar with that particular reality TV gem, I feel like it gives a much better perspective of the black experience than Roots. In it, disfigured retard Flavor Flav lounges around in his nouveau riche mansion, enveloped in garish clown clothing and surrounded by gaggles of ugly hood rats vying for the honor of getting an STD from the confused half of Public Enemy. But still, I learned more from Roots. In fact, I've learned so much, I think my brain is so full I'll have to stop watching this pedantic, lecturing nonsense. In this episode, Geordie Laforge grows up into that guy from Good Times, and gets his foot cut off by slave catchers. Also, Louis Gossett Jr dies, though sadly not soon enough to prevent his role in Diggstown. While I may not continue with the series much further, I will nevertheless take the time to share some of the important lessons I've learned from this enlightening show, which presumes that the viewer is some sort of ignorant plantation owner requiring slow repetition of an after-school-special-quality.
1) You used to be able to buy and sell black people. Why you would want to do that is beyond me. The overhead costs for owning a Negro must be astronomical. The malt liquor bills alone would bankrupt all but the wealthiest tobacco farmer, plus I prefer my silverware in the kitchen drawer, not pawned to buy Jamaican press. This explains why life is so cheap in the 'hood, or so the nearly indecipherable mumblings of 50 Cent would have me believe.
2) Coloreds were forbidden to read in the days of the slave trade. This explains why they refuse to do so now, and every rap album is titled with a crude approximation of phonetics.
3) Slaves were assigned their names instead of being allowed to use their own. This explains the term 'slave name', and the myriad of modern colored names created by mixing attitudes of rebellion, a bunch of 'y's, and the suffix '-esha'.
And, I think that's about it for me and Roots. I might try to pick up the rest of the series later on, but odds are I'm done. After all, I know how the plight of the African American ends. In a gaudy mansion, surrounded by scabby hookers.