MAIN EVENT. A Good Place to Get Started --- a.k.a "Table of Contents"
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MAIN EVENT. A Good Place to Get Started --- a.k.a "Table of Contents" |
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LOS ANGELES - Grab your Mao caps,
In some towns, convicted prostitutes and their clients are shamed on local television; in other towns those convicted of vice crimes are actually trotted out into the public sphere so that disapproving community members may ridicule them. There is nothing like a ripping public lynching to rationalize self-righteous indignation--there is power and frenzy in numbers. Perhaps public executions will become an auxiliary fad in our zero-tolerance epoch. Stop bitching and start snitching! Nag and lynch, too!
I believe that I am simply a typical patron of a typical neighborhood liquor store, but now I need to reassess my position as potential police officer. If I call a tip-line, shall I don a domineering ensemble, say jodhpurs and spit-shined boots? Do I get to crack a whip? If my self-righteousness is in sync with the collective righteousness, then I am in a position to Punish and Gloat. If I had a beef with the liquor store proprietor, if something about his face pissed me off, couldn't I call that telephone number just to make his life difficult? Who cares. Quotas need to met. Statistics need to be skewed and spewed. Scourge needs to be scrubbed. We Need To Be Saved.
But how effective is the Informant-a-gO-gO? A little over a month ago, a black-masked SWAT team invaded a house in Compton, California, USA, and shot the grandfather of that household to death. The grandfather was lying prone on his bed, as per command of black-masked SWAT team; and then the old guy moved, perhaps he had an itch, who the hell knows, so one of the black-masked SWAT teamsters shot the old guy in the back. This is an old guy lying on his stomach surrounded by several scary-looking authority figures with guns. The pleas of the SWAT team that they felt "threatened," are a little difficult to digest.
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Informants have been quite helpful
Epochal expressions tend to swing like a pendulum; the reigning expressions of today are metaphysical and puritanical (and gluttonous), so the next epoch will probably produce predominately sensual and promiscuous (and thrifty) expressions. A sumptuous slice of expression exists in between epochs; when the pendulum is in the middle of two extremes, there is a blend effect, an alchemy. When the extremes coexist together, tolerantly, for even a sliver of space and time, we experience Poetry. We will have achieved Poetry when, let's say, Tipper Gore embraces a Rap-artist Rastafarian. The sun will be shining, birdies will be tweeting and the Rap-artist Rastafarian will say "It's a fuckin' beautiful day, Mrs. Gore." And Tipper, her chaste blonde hair reflecting the warmth of the Sun, will reply (through un-gnashed teeth) "Why it certainly is, Mr. Rap-artist Rastafarian." And then they will both flash peace symbols and all will rejoice, momentarily.
I theorize that best way to reach Poetry is to move the extremity of this epoch along. Stretch the tautology to its limit so that the pendulum may snap back toward that tasty slack of tolerant Poetry. That we are encouraged to police each other is a positive sign of maximum extremity expression. Can you feel the tension? The agony is gorgeous. But it can be even more agonizingly gorgeous; the stakes need to be boosted:
Americans thrive in competition:
In order to foment more excitement about snitching, I suggest a monthly competition, the Snitch of the Month Club, replete with shiny medallions, trophies for the den shelves of Average Americans and crisp ribbons. Photo- ops with Movie Stars and an interview with Larry King on television would further entice Participation. My nomination for NEXT MONTH'S SNITCH is:
"Skippy." aliases "Skip," "Skipster," and "The Meat Hook." Currently in a witness protection program under the aegis of the benevolent Government (a.k.a. "Big Daddy," "Pops," "the Great Protector."). Skippy is a scampish snitch extraordinaire; his stoolie sessions have resulted in property seizures in the six digit realm. Ka ching! Hooray for Skippy! As a neo-liberal humanitarian, Skippy knows what's best for you; he'll convince you with a quick, speed-dial press of his finger to the telephone. Stop Bitching! Start Snitching! +++ The Previous CULTURECAST +++ THE NEXT CULTURECAST +++
paste on a Stalinesque mustache and fasten your totalitarian seatbelts. Scarlet letters, informants, tip-off telephone lines, surveillance cameras, ratfinks, snitches, stoolies and forfeiture of property prevail during our hysterical roller coaster ride through proper lifestyle indoctrination in the land o' plenty. Hide or disguise those vices. Bone-up on sociopathic presentation of self to the public world; don't arouse suspicion with subversive fashion such as tie-dye, dreadlocks, goatee's or black trench coats. Stick to innocuous khaki's and sporty visors. Continuously chant "I've got nothing to hide." If you're in a legal pinch,
then you can save your ass as a snitch.
Cut that deal. Or maybe you would like to impose your own beliefs on other people; then pursue the intrusive approach and butt right the hell in. You are duly encouraged to become involved in the upbringing of other people's children. Snitching is encouraged, particularly in the realms of personal vice and behaviors/attitudes that are incongruent with submission and/or apathy; "just say no" is pass, we are all too impressionable; control-freaking despots wink and nudge. What ever happened to social and ecological consciousness? Homeless people, starving people, pollution, save the whale, thinning earth resources, atomic weaponry, garbage, waste and other plagues have been shoved under the rug of ennui. Have we really become this rich and frivolous?
As I approached my local liquor store,
I viewed a new poster in its filmy front window: a red and black dog snarled, bearing its stiletto teeth at me, the spectator; the poster's rhetoric demanded that any liquor store proprietor selling cigarettes to people under the age of 18 should be reported to the blood-red phone number printed at the dog's feet. How do I distinguish if the proprietor is breaking the law? Do I ask for identification of those who have purchased cigarettes within the store? Do I tail people that I suspect are under 18 years of age? If the proprietor is indeed guilty of selling cigarettes to someone under 18 years of age, am I bestowed with an opportunity to view the proprietor torn-up by the dog in the poster?
That fiasco was a result of a drug raid. Drug raids happen all the time; there is a war declared on drugs for chrissakes. Unfortunately, too frequently for comfort, the SWAT teams invade the wrong address, or invade the right address but the wrong people due to outdated information received from informants; innocent people who are in the wrong place at the wrong time are terrorized if not shot. There was an incident in New York City where the police invaded the wrong building. They threw a stun bomb into the wrong apartment, terrorizing the wrong people. Two young girls in Davis, California received a visit by a black-masked squad. As the two girls were getting settled into their very first home away from home, they were invaded by a SWAT squad; they were thrown on the ground; guns were held to their heads. An amphetamine manufacturer was a prior resident in that apartment. These are all scenarios that involved snitches. Sort of arbitrary and suspenseful for anyone given that we live in a fairly nomadic society; people move a lot. The next time you change residences, could you be moving to an address that an informant would give-up based on his/her activities back in 1988?
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in the war on drugs. Miscommunication here, misinformation there, a few innocent people lost their lives or property or maybe their hair is a permanent shade of horror-show-grey-- but, look at the stats of successes! We Will Win. However, in the realm of tobacco, my empirical observations espy opposite results, that is, I have not noticed an Overkill Effect (yet). I haven't witnessed any news of police squads roughing-up liquor/convenience store owners. I see more teens smoking more than ever. Perhaps people aren't inclined to snitch unless they are cornered. Free-will snitching may be encouraged, but maybe the average person finds this suggestion repulsive. Mao caps, Stalinesque mustaches and totalitarian seatbelts are difficult to rationalize in a place that continuously drones on and on about its Freedom.
high school swim meets, best apple pie at the town fair and fitting as many bodies as possible in a telephone booth--we are serious in these pursuits. An initially friendly game of Scrabble or Monopoly can trigger a melee. This competitive edge is drilled into our heads.
© 1999, GENERATOR 21.
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