Wednesday, March 2, 2016
150 Substitutions for the R-Word (for motherfucking grown-ups)
Tuesday, February 16, 2016
The Responsibility of Storytellers and the R-Word
Tuesday, February 9, 2016
Facing Fears: The R-Word in Tropic Thunder
It took me EIGHT YEARS to get enough courage up to watch it.
Here's some related background on my relationship with Ben Stiller, the R-word, and 'comedies': When I saw There's Something About Mary, it was so unnecessarily offensive and malicious that I had to leave the room halfway through.
I was eleven.
I don't even remember what the specific moment of mockery was that triggered me to leave, if there even was one, though regardless of the specific instance of derision it was a cumulative effect from the first half of the movie (and I did subsequently go back and watch the rest of it just to be able to form a fully-fledged opinion about it - which, as it turned out, was that it was callously, unapologetically, and maliciously offensive), but, regardless, I had had enough of that movie disparaging people with disabilities to watch any more of it on that particular night.
So when Tropic Thunder hit and the controversy raged, I boycotted the thing without seeing it. Because I didn't need to. I didn't want any more hate and rage and venom in my life.
But now? I think a little rage might be exactly what's needed. Tropic Thunder was part of the catalyst that brought the Spread The Word To End The Word campaign to life, so it seems as appropriate a catalyst for me to use this year as any.
Let's all be clear about something: it is ridiculous the way that this country, our "artists," our politicians (although - props to Obama on Rosa's Law), and the people with ALL THE MONEY treat those in our community who have the least-supported voice of all.
Hey, I know! Let's play a fun Tropic Thunder game!
Below you will find a transcript of the several-minute long scene that sparked the controversy (not even taking into account the t-shirt line and film-within-the-film website {which was wisely taken down by the studio executives} promoting "You Never Go Full Retard" and "Once upon a time there was a retard...").
Here's the game:
1) Read the scene with the understanding that every time you see [_____], the script of Tropic Thunder used a derivative of the word "retard" or "retarded" as a derogatory slang word, blatantly belittling people with intellectual disabilities and demeaning this whole community of people by directly stating that they are "stupid," "moronic," "dumb," and "imbecilic" (to quote the movie, itself).
2) Next, pick your personal pejorative trigger word.
The N-word. The C-word. Fa**ot (please excuse the excess on that example - writing "the F-word" does not evoke the label I intend to call to mind). The K-word. Whichever word is the one that sets your blood boiling and makes you want to go throw up, punch something, and/or cry. Pick that one.
3) Finally, re-read the scene with that trigger word substituted when you see [_____], adapting your word to the proper grammatical structure to complete the sentence (i.e. If you're using the N-word, "Watched a lot of [_____] people" may need to become "watched a lot of N-word's" rather than "watched a lot of N-word people." Or "I brushed my teeth [___]" may need to be "I brushed my teeth like a N-word." etc. You're smart. You understand.
And...... GO!
Watched a lot of [_____] people.
Spent time with them. Observed them.
Watched all the [_____] stuff they did.
Then again,
I always found mere observation
in and of itself is a tad rudimentary.
Sometimes, we gotta dig deeper
to mine the true emotional pay dirt.
Thus, we can diagram the source
of the pain and then live it, you know.
Yeah, yeah, live it. Yeah, exactly.
You know, there were times
when I was doing Jack
that I actually felt [_____],
like really [_____].
Oh, yeah.
I mean, I brushed my teeth [_____],
I rode the bus [_____].
Damn.
In a weird way,
I had to sort of just free myself up
to believe that it was okay
to be stupid or dumb.
To be a moron.
Yeah.
To be moronical.
Exactly, to be a moron.
An imbecile.
Yeah.
Like the dumbest motherfucker
that ever lived.
When I was playing the character.
When you was the character.
Yeah, as Jack, definitely.
Jack, stupid ass Jack.
Trying to come back from that.
In a weird way it was almost like
I had to sort of fool my mind
into believing that it wasn't [_____],
and by the end of the whole thing,
I was like,
"Wait a minute, I flushed so much out,
how am I gonna jumpstart it up again?"
It's just like... Right?
Yeah.
You was farting in bathtubs
and laughing your ass off.
Yeah.
But Simple Jack thought he was smart,
or rather, didn't think he was [_____],
so you can't afford to play [_____],
being a smart actor.
Playing a guy who ain't smart
but thinks he is,
that's tricky.
Tricky.
It's like working with mercury.
It's high science, man. It's an art form.
Yeah.
You an artist.
That's what we do, right? Yeah.
Yeah.
Hats off for going there,
especially knowing how
the Academy is about that shit.
About what?
You're serious? You don't know?
Everybody knows
you never go full [_____].
What do you mean?
Check it out.
Dustin Hoffman, Rain Man, looked
[_____], act [_____], not [_____].
Count toothpicks, cheat at cards.
Autistic, sure. Not [_____].
Then you got Tom Hanks,
Forrest Gump.
Slow, yes, [_____], maybe,
braces on his legs.
But he charmed the pants off Nixon,
and he won a Ping-Pong competition.
That ain't [_____].
And he was a goddamn war hero.
You know any [_____] war heroes?
You went full [_____], man.
Never go full [_____].
You don't buy that?
Ask Sean Penn, 2001, I Am Sam.
Remember? Went full [_____]?
Went home empty-handed.
Y'all having fun yet?
No? What's that? You're offended? That was ignorant, hateful, crass, malicious, unnecessary, and un-funny? Gee, you don't say.
COUNTER ARGUMENT:
Team America.
Matt Parker. Trey Stone. You know what? Props, homies.
They pan EVERYONE EQUALLY. No one is safe. And none of it is malicious. All of it is tongue in cheek with the understanding that it's meant to be not hurtful, but satirical. To point the finger at the people who actually abuse their fellow human beings. To say "Hey guess what? Y'all are the weak-minded cowards we're mocking here. And we're the ones who are brave enough to show that to you. Now it's on you to internalize that and change your attitude." They leave no room for anyone to walk away from the movie feeling like their offensive and ignorant behavior is acceptable or that it has been validated.
Well done, gentlemen. Seriously. Well done.
But Tropic Thunder? Here's a film whose primary sub-plot is rooted in a bunch of Hollywood icons - role models (albeit not good ones) - verbally assaulting people who live with intellectual disabilities, but drop ONE N-bomb and it's "OOOOHHH NO! WE HAVE TO MAKE A WHOLE THING ABOUT IT! WE HAVE TO MAKE IT MEANINGFUL AND SHOW THAT IT WAS A JOKE AND THAT IT'S NOT OKAY TO USE THAT WORD."
Robert Downy mother-f***ing Junior actually says the words "For 400 years that word has kept us down," regarding the N-word after spending nearly a full 5 minutes earlier in the film dropping the R-word as callously as I've ever heard it used (and, in fact, justified the use of the R-word and the content associated with it to CBS news by saying that it's "any artist's right to say and do whatever they wanna do." (Oh you mean like doing bunches and bunches of drugs, driving under the influence, and breaking into houses? Ooooooo... Too soon?)
Now, I'm all about the whole bit of him being an American who's playing an Australian who's playing a black man. The way they satirize that Russian nesting doll of compounded caricature, the way they have Brandon T. Jackson be the one to call it out, the way they use it to make a point about the imbedded white supremacy in Hollywood and America (shall we talk about the whole Joseph Fiennes / Michael Jackson thing?)... That's a good bit. However...
If you justify his satirically playing a black man precisely by calling attention to the fact that he's a white American playing an Australian playing a black man and then using it as a vehicle to point the finger back on yourself and, in the end, using it to reclaim the N-word and evoke the understanding that the use of that word is offensive... but you DON'T do the same to reclaim the R-word... guess what?
That is what oppression is.
That is what the willingly ignorant social subjugation of one group of people by another is.
That is an act of hate. A malicious attack on an entire community of people. And an ignorant, closed-minded, selfish, arrogant, bigoted, unintelligent affront to the cash-paying, movie-watching, t-shirt-buying public.
"Perez, you sound so angry about this. It was eight years ago, man. Calm down. It's over."
Yeah I am angry!
And yeah - the movie was eight years ago but this derogatory treatment of the entire disabled community in this so-called Greatest Country In The World has not stopped, slowed, or even declined.
Show me a state where there is enough public healthcare for someone in my brother's condition to live a full life without a team of people constantly researching private funding streams to get him the support he needs JUST TO EAT EVERY DAY.
Show me a city where any person - working legs or no - can get into - and can reach any floor in - any building.
Show me a school where ZERO teachers use the R-word to belittle their own students in their classrooms.
(Oh yes, there's a story there alright. After a newspaper article about my brother and me came out an elementary school teacher contacted us, had her students write letters to us about how the article made them feel, and reached out to say (and apologize) that she had spent her entire 20+ year career as a teacher calling her own students 'retards' when they got something wrong. Yeah. That's real.)
So yeah. I'm angry. And yeah. It's still a problem. So yeah. I'm going to say something.
No, I didn't see the movie until this year. But you know what I did do? I took ten seconds to empathize with another human being and changed my attitude about using the R-word when I was SIX.
So let me wrap this up by saying this:
If the squishy little brain of a six-year-old can grasp the fact that using the R-word as a derogatory slang term is offensive because it implies that any person with an intellectual disability is - to quote Mr's Stiller and Downey Jr - "stupid," "dumb," "a moron," "moronical," "an imbecile," "the dumbest motherfucker that ever lived" and incapable of achieving greatness, then what's your excuse, oh wise grown-ass adult person?
Now, I don't presume to assume that you, dear reader who has read this far, uses this word.
Even if you do, I don't presume to assume you intend any malice when you do.
But to quote John Logan's Tony Award-Winning play "Red," "your intention is immaterial." And to quote Rachel Dawes and Batman, "it's not who you are underneath, but what you do that defines you."
You wanna be like Batman? Then it's time to take action and change the attitudes of the American people about this word and the people it hurts. And like Ghandi, Michael Jackson, Socrates, Dr. Martin Luther King Jr, and all great artists and philosophers of all time have said - that change has to start with you.
So let's make the choice to change our attitudes about this word. Today. Now.
And....... Go.
Thursday, October 22, 2015
OSF Translates Shakespeare... Is it still "Shakespeare?"
A) Why didn't they call any of US with this job, because seriously? Someone's getting paid to do this?
B) Here's the thing...
First off, here's an article from NPR about the whole thing: http://www.npr.org/2015/10/17/449270557/o-romeo-romeo-what-the-heck-are-you-saying
I'll have to do more digging than just the NPR story when I have time (so, you know, November 18th), but I'm kind of ambivalent at first glance. UNLESS it catches on and becomes the norm. I think calling ANYTHING that's been translated by any other name than "TITLE OF PLAY by William Shakespeare, Translated by TRANSLATOR'S NAME" would be wrong. You don't call Elektra "Elektra by Frank McGuinness" you call it "Elektra by Sophocles, translated by Frank McGuinness." I say, go for it. But recognize that it's no longer Shakespeare.
You know, like, MOST of Shakespeare's works were borrowed stories, stolen plotlessness, and common folklore or history. Very little of his shit was new. But he was the one who wrote it down the way we know it. So he kind of gets the right to own that. But everything from R&J to Macbeth were existing stories, right down to the details.
That being said, if we're going to translate them and make them our own, they are no longer his words, and they can't really be called "SHAKESPEARE." Because, frankly, if you're not using his words and his poetry, you're not using HIM.
So, yeah, I guess I do have an opinion. Go for it. Translate the hell out of it. But don't you dare call it "Shakespeare" straight up with a twist of lime. Call it what it is. It's a cocktail that has 1 part Shakespeare, 1 part translator, and some bitters.
Saturday, June 28, 2014
Theatre Review: The Mother Ship - Sacred Fools Theater Company
Sacred Fools Theater Company
Written and Directed by Jonas Oppenheim
660 N Heliotrope
Los Angeles, CA 90004
310.281.8337
www.sacredfools.org
June 27 - August 4, 2014
Fridays and Saturdays at 8pm (excluding July 4)
Sundays 7/6, 13, and 20 at 7pm
What do you get when you slam the 1960's British sex farce genre into the mattress of science fiction while trying, desperately and unsuccessfully, to impregnate it? Obviously you get THE MOTHER SHIP by Jonas Oppenheim currently playing at Sacred Fools Theater Company.
This world-premier show takes on the taboo and altogether touchy subjects of marital strife and infertility in an extremely unique and hilarious way.
Trevor and Penelope are trying to get pregnant. Trevor's sister, Ilene, and her husband, Kirby, haven't seemed to have any problem with the process. In fact, they seem to be rather overly-proficient and procreation. Even Trevor's mother, the prickly Rose, has had substantial sexual success. Meanwhile Trevor and Penelope's sex life, and ability to bear children, are waning fast. Fortunately, an unlikely intergalactic, teleportation mix-up on the space vessel Infinium could turn the tables for everyone.
Bryan Bellomo, a Sacred Fools veteran, as Trevor takes on a hefty load of the show and carries it with much sweat, gusto, and deftness. Right alongside him is Aviva Pressman as Penelope. Much like Bellomo (and quite a lot of the cast, in fact) she sprints from scene to scene in not much more than her skivvies delivering gut punch after gut punch on the emotional roller coaster Penelope rides. Other shout-outs must be given to Scott Golden as Willy/Werner for his unflappability and lighting-fast improvisational reflexes, Carrie Keranen as Ilene/Doctor Ilsa for her incredible comedic timing and precision, Lynn Odell as the nymphomaniacal and stinging mother, Rose, and villainous Rrrxorkzyx, and Stephen Simon as Captain Pex who masterfully utilizes his sheer physical presence on stage for bit after hilarious bit.
I could not have asked for a more outrageous, hilarious, or enjoyable show to introduce me to the Sacred Fools Theater Company. After taking a ride on THE MOTHER SHIP, I'll be back for more.
Friday, April 20, 2012
Where Do Tomatoes Come From?
Most of you will probably say, "But Andrew - isn't Tomato good for you? Doesn't Lycopene, an antioxidant property of Tomato, fight Cancer? Isn't eating Tomato extract way better for us than eating bugs?"
To you, I say "Yea, Kinda and Nay!"
Here's the thing:
Lycopene, an antioxidant-rich carotenoid that gives tomatoes (and various other red/pink fruits and veggies) their color, does have Cancer-fighting properties (Dr. T. Colin Campbell, author of The China Study). However, the beneficial effects are most helpful to an eater if said eater-of-tomatoes is either eating whole tomatoes or a whole-tomato-based tomato sauce (Greta Macaire - Nutritionist at USF). For example, a glass of straight-up Tomato Juice is going to contain enough Lycopene (if consumed daily) to constitute a useful serving whereas one would need to eat somewhere in the ballpark of 14 tomatoes to get the same quantity of Lycopene from whole fruit. Or you could eat some nasty processed fake-o tomato dye crap that Starbucks puts in your drink instead of beetles.
Okay, that's Thing 1. Thing 2:
The Tomato Industry is gaining ground in the world market at a pace that sets it in the league of the Corn Industry. Not only does this create the opportunity for mass-marketing Monopolizing Tomato Corporations (yes, Dave Barry, that would make a good name for a rock band, or at least a demo album), but this also creates the opportunity for those Monopolizing Tomato Corporations to destroy local growers and distributers across the globe. Starbucks, like Dominos Pizza, is not simply an American chain. You can find Starbucks across the globe. And the challenge with that is simply this: how do local tomato growers in, say, Ghana, compete with an American Tomato Monopoly (3rd album in a series, like Bat Out Of Hell 3) when the Primary Tomato Users (a "Monopolizing Tomato Corporation" cover band) are buying all their tomatoes and tomato products from narsty, pesticide-filled, factory farms halfway around the globe? (http://www.menshealth.com/nutrition/dominos-effect/page/2)? They don't. They go out of business, default on their loans, lose their farms and their livelihood and they do all this at the expense of a few slices of Pepperoni with extra cheese and a Vente Frap (which, incidentally, each cost about the same as a gallon of gas these days - but that's another rant).
Should Starbucks be destroyed? Of course not. Starbucks has created millions of jobs, given hundreds of thousands of people across the planet access to income, health care and peace of mind. They also lend an aesthetic of recognition to any city on Earth these days since any person can get the same Vente Frap anywhere they go. Starbucks is a good company and, as the USA Today article says, the fact that such a large corporation is willing to make and is capable of making such a drastic ingredient change within 6 months of a first major shift in ingredients is not only admirable, but also impressive.
I ask, however, that we as consumers do our research and know what we're ingesting and supporting.
After all, as LelaLight so eloquently put it on Starbucks Corporate Blog: "Maybe I'm a little naive but last I check strawberries are red. So if you are using 'REAL' strawberries in your drinks and food, there'd be no need for dyes/food coloring!" (http://blogs.starbucks.com/blogs/customer/archive/2012/04/19/cochineal-extract-update.aspx)
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Del Paso Detective
CHAPTER 1
DEL PASO HEIST
I pulled my harvest-gold van into the angled parking spot along side the Artisan Theatre building just off of Del Paso Boulevard and took stock of everything around. The "Decepti-Kon: Fusion of Japanese and American Animation" car was there, as was Danielle's. She must already be inside. She did say she was leaving downtown at 4:30 and it was around 5:15, so the Stage Manager must be on duty by now.
I grabbed up my bags and saw Erin outside the front door of the theatre looking equanimous as always. I sent Danielle a text message letting her know I was outside and greeted Erin, who, oddly, informed me that she'd been trying to get in touch with Danielle for about 45 minutes and that she'd been waiting outside for someone with a key to arrive.
"Her car's here, though," I stated plainly.
"Well that's weird," Erin replied, "are you sure it's hers?"
I nearly responded but instead walked back toward the parking to investigate further. There's usually another red Pontiac that parks alongside this building. Maybe it was that one that I saw and Danielle was stuck in traffic, powerfully obeying the no-cell-phone laws of California. As I approached, however, it was clear that this was, in fact, Danielle's car. Those Kentucky license plates unmistakable. The more troublesome piece of the puzzle, though, was the fact that her bag, laptop, planner, purse and backpack were all inside and in plain view. With hesitation and trepidation I tried the front passenger door.
It opened without fuss.
I returned to Erin.
"I don't want to seem alarmist," I said, trying to seem unruffled, "but it's definitely her car, all her stuff is inside and it's unlocked."
"That's…" she hesitated, as though desperate to disbelieve all the now possible situations we were facing before continuing, "…concerning."
We immediately started calling anyone we could track down with a key. We found some of the Decepti-Kon people and asked if they had a key. We called the building manager, the theater's artistic director, and Danielle repeatedly. Finally, the director arrived and let us in. By this point, we were in an utter panic.
Had she been taken? It's not like her to leave her things in her car, let alone to leave it unattended and unlocked. Had she been hit by a car shortly after exiting her own and rushed to a hospital? Had she gotten inside the theater only to notice something elevated that needed repair, climbed a ladder, fallen and been knocked unconscious? No explanation for what could be happening was pleasant to think on. All we could do was hope against logic that she was inside the theater, safe, and simply unaware of anything happening around her or the calls on her phone.
As I rounded the corner to run into the space behind everyone else, I heard Erin cry out.
"She's here!"
What kind of reaction was that? Panic at finding the motionless, unconscious body of Danielle prostrate on the stage? Terror at the sight of some kidnapper holding her hostage?
"She's here!" Erin cried out again, still unclear as to the emotion behind her verbal outbursts.
"She's in the booth running cues…"
She's in the booth running cues.
This took me a minute to process. Surely that can't be right. She can't simply be in the booth running cues! Her car is unlocked with all of her personal belongings inside it sitting just off of Del Paso Boulevard in North Sacramento across from the single sketchiest Bank of America I've ever been to. Something must have happened to cause her to respond in such a way. And why the unresponsiveness to our calls? Obviously her phone was stolen when she was jumped just outside the theater before she could get inside or call for help. Clearly this must be the case!
"You've been calling? That's weird because I don't have any missed calls or texts from anyone. And I've been here for, like, an hour and a half!"
Unbelievable. How could this be? All that panic. All the chaos. All the phone calls to people we hardly know. All this and she's simply been enthralled by running light cues…
CHAPTER 2
NAME: WITHHELD
Two hours after all the commotion, we opened our show.
Two hours after that we gathered at Craig's house for an after party.
Four hours after that, Danielle's car was broken into on the block where she lives, her backpack, laptop and bag - again left in the car - were all taken.
Six hours later, she moved to a new apartment.
I went over to help her and her roommate, Carly, move. Our mutual friend and associate Tony was also there to lend a hand. We moved all their furniture, built and repaired anything that needed building or repairing, and ate some Mexican food at Tres Hermanas on K Street.
I went about my day until our show that night when, to my surprise, Danielle informed me that the actress in the one-woman show she was working on at another theater had sent her a text message a little while before letting her know that a man had sent an email stating the he had the script to that one-woman show and several books that belonged to Danielle. I was personally very excited by this news since one of those books was, in fact, not Danielle's, but mine on loan to her: The China Study - a nutrition text written from a massive nutrition research project. I asked if she'd contacted him yet, and she said she hadn't. She sent him an email, somewhat terse, saying "I understand you have my script and books. Can I get those back from you?"
Over the course of the next several hours the two of them exchanged emails - apparently all rather laconic in nature - since by the time our show was letting out they were to the point of him saying "I don't know why you're being so inconsiderate and rude when I'm trying to do the right thing and help you." I took over the emailing over the next couple hours while we mingled after the show at a local Leather-Daddy bar called The Bolt where the safest place to pee was the corner of the backyard where they keep firewood. I placated until I got him to leave the items under a car at an address in Midtown. Danielle and I convoyed to the stated location and retrieved the items.
Mission accomplished.
So I thought.
The next day when I went over to hang pictures for the girls' new apartment, I asked Danielle if she'd sent him an email thanking him for returning her items to her. She looked at me with a look half of sheepishness and half of incredulousness. I took her phone from her and sent a very polite but conclusive email thanking him for taking the time to return the items and apologizing for the miscommunication the night before.
Unfortunately, he took too much heart from this email. Later that evening Danielle received an email from him to the effect of: "Hey - no problem. I really feel like we've bonded during all this. Are you on Facebook?"
I was left with no choice but to track him down and learn a bit about him to determine whether or not Danielle should respond to the obviously desperate attempt to connect with a female, even a faceless one. Nevertheless, I would be remiss to deny you, my readers, a peek into the life of this man:
Name: WITHHELD
Gender: Male
Occupation: Southwest Airlines since 1996
Education: BS in Physical Education, Portland State University 1990
Approximate Age: 44 years
Assumed Relationship Status: painfully single
Sorry Patrick. Access denied.