So I was walking down to Pike Place Market. The day was unseasonably warm, the sun was out, there were very few tourists clogging the the arteries of downtown. I’ve always felt like tourists are like the calories you get from a particularly rich ganache – unwanted, but necessary to enjoy the dessert. At any rate, I was diddy-bopping along, ready to get down to some serious organic produce shopping when someone called out to me. Something like “Hey, what do you think?” I didn’t think much of the Sidewalk Woman tapping on a picture of President Obama with one unpainted fingernail. And then my eyes focused and I realized that the photograph had been doctored with a Hitler mustache, and as my feet carried me forward, I heard the woman behind me again: “What do you think about sending Obama to the moon?” I think she must’ve been addressing people behind me, because I heard someone reply, “I think that’s terrible!” in carrying tones of disgust.
I managed to keep my violent tendencies in check (except for a few unfortunately squashed tomatoes) but the indignation hasn’t worn off. I can think of few things more un-American than wanting to jettison the President of the United States into the wild blue yonder.
All right – I’ll concede that Sidewalk Woman probably didn’t mean, Hey, let’s strap President Obama to a rocket and send it into outer space. Probably. She was so casual about it. There was a smile in her voice and the sun in her face and it was nothing to her to say something so awful.
It reminded me of a conversation I’d had with my brother. Apparently Dane Cook told a joke addressing rape – I’m paraphrasing here, but basically good, solid Dane pointed out that the word rape represents something truly horrible – a terrifying and violent act, one of the worst things someone can do to another person. Yet it’s lost all meaning in our vernacular, and that is uncool. Like, Yes, I’m sure if we were to go to a battered women’s shelter and asked a woman who resided there what her rape had been like, she’d reply, “Well, you know, it’s a lot like, in Halo, when you get hit from behind by a gravity hammer.”
Now I’m not going to get preachy at you, because I’m terrible at Halo and the urge to trash-talk and scream and throw the controller at my fellow Halo players is usually overwhelming. But that’s in the privacy of my home and directed at people who are killing me – and now it seems that I’ve wandered off the point, but I haven’t. Sidewalk Woman reminded me of Dane Cook’s joke because it’s demonstrative about how careless we’ve become with words. How low the public discourse has sunk.
And I know I haven’t talked about books this whole post, and you’ll have to tune in next week to find out what I thought about the fresh-friend doughnuts at Lola’s (also the lighting and its reading suitability). I’ll just finish by saying that there a lot of different viewpoints out there, and a lot of different ideas to consider, especially if we want to stay a Union. But surely we can agree we should say No! to advocating the death or permanent incapacitation of our state leaders!
Right?