Thursday, November 6, 2008

Ralph Nader is stupider than eight chickens...


Uncle Tom

Today I read that Ralph Nader called our President-elect an Uncle Tom, and nearly swallowed my bridgework. For one thing, this is a dog-whistle to us sixties types that Ralph may be past his sell-by date. It's such a moldy label now that I wonder if our text-messaging youth even knows what it means. Back in the day, a lot of whities didn't know what it meant.

Calling an African American an Uncle Tom started around 1967, and was interchangeable with hankie-head and Oreo. I first heard it used by Black Panthers in the East Coast, and I often heard it in reference to Martin Luther King. In the counter-culture, there was a feeling floating around that social justice for blacks was just taking too damned long. A lot of people were sick of police corruption, sick of getting beat to shit in demonstrations, and were about to blow-off non-violence as a strategy.

Anyway, calling a black an Uncle Tom meant he was a black appeaser, someone who made nice with Mr. Charlie, a yassuh, yessuh guy and was, rightfully, an incredible insult. This is pretty ironic, since Uncle Tom is a stand-up character in the book, and defies his white oppressors. But, despite Woodstock and anything else you might have read or seen, most white people weren't thinking much about Uncle Tom or Martin Luther King. Instead they spent their time watching The Smothers Brothers, working their day jobs, and wishing the goddamned war would end. Given the obliviousness of the general public, I'm fairly sure a number of whites and maybe blacks too got Uncle Tom mixed up with Uncle Ben (see below).

http://www.aolcdn.com/channels/09/01/461e6486-001ba-06ef2-400cb8e1
Uncle Ben

A confession here: I've never read Uncle Tom's Cabin: Life Among the Lowly. I don't think I ever will either, after peering into it from time to time. It's pretty sticky, heavily Christian with a Puritan slant, and the characters have long since been absorbed into stereotypes. As to Uncle Ben, I was sad when he disappeared off the rice box. Turns out, I thought he was a train porter instead of a waiter. (Why I thought a train porter would bring anyone a hot dish of rice is one of those mysteries. Nonetheless, I greatly admired porters, since I'd often been turned over to their care during solitary childhood train trips.)

I imagine we'll hear all the old crap in the years ahead. Hopefully it'll be ridiculed out of existence and I stand ready to ridicule as my citizen duty. The years ahead will be hard on racists of all stripes. The old epithets just don't apply.

And Ralph Nader should shut up.

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