...
For the first time in years, Les Visible, or whatever he's come to call himself lately, who writes scripts for this guy with the great voice, came up with something pretty close to perfect... or started to... but couldn't forego turning the piece itself into a shining example of that about which it laments.... In a puerile bid for a good closing irony, he totally fucked himself, and us, in the very last line. Jackass. Jackass. Jackass.
That beautiful signer may well have been placed there by malignancy itself as a special signal to those who might be threatening to begin doing their jobs, and certainly was not having a psychotic episode. That might be the only excuse that could keep him from being lynched or otherwise murdered, but, only an idiot believes that was psychosis at work. I can allow as how he could have gotten that gig in South Africa, believe their Stasi would not be as thoroughgoing as others we might name, but there is a heavy likelihood he was sent there to do that by exactly someone whose authority would not be questioned, by any security service anywhere. Even so, whatever the provenance, it was gorgeous, and definitely a truth worth hearing, and one the deaf could hear.
Funny how not an hour ago I passed up on an opportunity to take Zizek to the mat for his pussy piece in the Guardian on the grounds that what he had written had been censored, and so had perhaps intended something stronger and more to the heart of the matter. But now I'm moved to pipe up because... fuck... excuse me, but with friends like these, who needs enemies?
The video, though, is totally worth watching... for white people, anyway. In the opening sequence we get to witness a white guy with very evidently better rhythm than all the black people around him. Another old saw put to bed.
