Monday, October 15, 2007

50 cent v. David Letterman: Abridged Reflections of Ellison's Trueblood and Mr. Norton

In a recent viewing of a popular late evening show, David Letterman introduced as his final guest, the rapper Curtis Jackson also known as NYC's 50 Cent. 50, pronounced for you non-native speakers of the ebonic dialect, as fitty (rhymes with shitty, but sounds like giddy) was "singing" his latest song, "Ayo Technology." The cameraman was keen to focus only on 50 and not on David, who I am sure was getting ready to break it down.

Now mind you--this is not a rant on musical tastes, albeit those that have them, but an analysis of a greater injustice, which I have witnessed. The network is CBS. The Late Night host is seasoned veteran David Letterman. The musical guest is 50 Cent. The limited audience that is captured by the camerman, who we hope still has a job, captures a mass of tangled white arms undulating like wave crests and troughs paying homage to the beat, and trying to raise the roof as it were. This action is not so far removed from the spectacle, or the gaze upon the beautifully exotic slave, or [O/]other as long as it is contained [by those in power]. As 50 Cent completed his minstrel show, David Letterman stood up from behind his desk, a seat of power and division, and proceeded to close the show with his typical remarks. Simple enough right? Not exactly friends. What happened next is typical of this blog's sobriquet--a Callide Curtus, or a subtle defection. Follow me.

When 50 Cent crooned his final, sleepy vocal, he then turned to shake David Letterman's hand. The hand, an extension of the arm, the shaft of diplomacy, the elongation of a civil existence, the breaking of bread and the giving of thanks, yes, the arm attached to the beat and pulse of the smile , the gaze, the face...was ignored. You say, but I saw the show and he only ignored 50 Cent for a short while--perhaps, a half minute or so. Still, the hand, and extended and distended function of embrace, which shuns exclusion, sought it. What was it exactly? That is, what is it to receive acknowledgment from a seasoned host, of salt and blood complexion? Did the extended arm go unnoticed by the cameraman? No. All viewers in several languages were able to witness and discern for themselves what took place, and trust me that there are folks reading this blog who do not know or care to "see" the larger picture painted in the mind by this event.

This is what Derrida assumes to be thought, or Hannah Arendt, a "thought-train," but I digress right? No. Thinkers "see" the diss[missal] of 50 Cent's hand, not racial profilers and compilers ready to point a finger, and invoke culpabilis but still invoke cowardice and utilize their blind spot so as not to offend. And yet, I observed it; I "saw" Ellison's Trueblood and Mr. Norton right there in High Definition (oh! that we could spend the time and unpack this phrasing, no), and America thought nothing of it. Eventually what did happen? What resoultion took place?

It was 50 Cent that desired closure and respect. His extended hand and arm were personifiably [a]shamed, and so he did what any "Bigger Thomas" would do (when embarassed by fear)--he took, and he did it by force. In fact, he created his own reality then and there. By shaking the seasoned veteran's hand forcefully and covering the [mis] communication with a patented "yes suh!" smile, Curtis "50 Cent" Jackson was awarded with a quick "We're off the air. Please exit stage left" moment, and yes that action was caught by our faithful camerman.

The example above is a slice from a mouth-watering, jagged rock and I hope it produces the necessary agitation I have since read, lived and written about. I welcome your comments.

F.

4 comments:

Jeffrey said...

This is a case of subtle racism, an ideology more treacherous than blatant racism. The fact that 50 Cent is denied a handshake from Letterman speaks to the notion of black invisiblity. Fiddy's image as a street hustler, masculine thug contrasts Letterman's image of a a white, upper-class male. As a result, it seems that Letterman fears 50 Cent and revisits the ideology that the white man fears the black man. Some will dismiss this event as non-racial, but it speaks to the fact that racism is structurally interwoven into the fabric of American society. It behooves all to learn the subtleties of racism, or we shall all perish.

Casey said...

Interesting post--and I love the allusion to Trueblood and Norton. That is a ridiculously profound scene.

But just to complicate things, watch the clip again.

If you look closely, Dave shook hands with 50 cent before turning to the audience and (possibly, I'm arguing) "simply" not seeing 50 cent's extended hand.

But as Jeffrey suggested, that very well might speak to a subtle racism... I suppose we might ask, why didn't Letterman see Fiddy's hand extended? Still, I think "he just didn't see it" must remain on the table as a possible explanation.

Black Phoenix said...

As Casey is wise to point out, there was a moment of Letterman shaking 50 Cent's hand (seemingly as a matter of formality), however I am more concerned with the [diss]missal at the end. After all, as far as I know there is no CFR (Code of Federal Regulations), or quota of hand shakes between host and guest. Just a thought, no.

k_grant_wilson said...

To say we all fear what we don't know or understand is a dangerous oversimplification. Letterman's reaction is common when placed in an awkward situation. However, this is not to connote any sort of defense of Letterman. The reason for his "awkwardness" is probably in result of his own choices made in life. So in his case, he may fear what he chooses not to know or understand because of his discriminations on a more non-cognizant level. Letterman is a white, upper-class male and probably has been for a good deal of his life which means he spent a good deal of time shaking hands of those alike. It is fun times like these when we see the true colors (no pun intended) of people. To conclude, these non-decisions are actual implicit choices that are threaded into our futures, in one way or another. K.