By staff writer JD Rebello
August 7, 2006
Here’s a story I’ve been dying to share. Back in the fall of last year, I was the humble editorial page editor for Northeastern’s student newspaper, The Northeastern News. One fateful week, I decided to write an All Hail, essentially an op-ed piece written by a student. (You may need to register; don’t worry, it’s free and worth it. The News is a solid paper.)
Well, I wrote the piece. A few people told me it was funny and I didn’t think twice about it. Then I learned that the student advisor, this real friendly guy who I’ll refer to as “Vagina Jones,” demanded to speak with me. Not only did he claim the column was horribly offensive, he suggested I resign from the paper. Then he even went so far as to proclaim that my piece could be construed as a criminal act, and actually alerted judicial affairs about me in case the University wanted to prosecute.
“I’ve taken some cheap shots in my time, but to openly decimate the 9-11 widows… that takes a special brand of balls.”
Now, in retrospect, I wish I hadn’t written the first paragraph, but only because it wasn’t very funny. Do I want to kill homeless people? Of course not. But this ass-spelunker thought I did. What Vagina Jones failed to realize is that it was an opinion column—just me talking, not plotting some grand scheme to eradicate the homeless.
After that, and a preceding incident involving the president of journalism at NU, it occurred to me that our society has become unrelentingly prude when it comes to what is said and what is perceived as offensive. Now, I’m not one of those flag-wavers who thinks you can say anything and everything—I understand free speech has its limits—but with all the political correctness, anti-defamatory leagues, and just plain bitches in general, I think it’s time for someone to clarify our all-important First Amendment.
Yes, I’ll be that someone. How lovely of you to ask.
“Anything said while drunk should be allowed.”
Let’s start with Braveheart himself. As someone who’s half-Jewish, I was at first taken aback by Gibson’s comments, particularly since he did make the modern day “Birth of the Nation” and his father thinks the Holocaust was created by Dreamworks.
But then, I remembered. He was fucking drunk.
Show of hands if you’ve never said something you’ve regretted after hitting the sauce. Not long ago, I told a close girlfriend of mine that I regularly think about her while jerking off. But I’d been drinking. She can’t hold that against me. That’s ridiculous. That’s why we have alcohol in the first place, so you can say all sorts of stupid shit just to see what happens.
Does Gibson really believe Jews start all the wars? I have no idea, although the numbers seem to support his drunken claim. But still, who gives a shit? I think we should be more concerned that his next film, Apocalypto, looks like a live-action Fantasia crossed with the Mayan exhibit at the museum. Where the fuck is “Braveheart 2”?
The Keith Hernandez Rule:
“Anything said about women should be allowed.”
Keith Hernandez, former Mets star and radio analyst, went on this jokey tirade a month ago after seeing a woman in the Padres dugout during a game.
“Who is the girl in the dugout, with the long hair? What’s going on here? You have got to be kidding me. Only player personnel in the dugout.”
Then he heard she was a member of the training staff and said:
“I won’t say that women belong in the kitchen, but they don’t belong in the dugout. You know I am only teasing. I love you gals out there—always have.”
Naturally, everyone went up in arms. But you know, I’m tired of hearing women bitch when a man says something offensive. So, it’s OK to keep making sitcoms where the man’s a dumbass and his wife is a saint? Or for those douchebags on Sex and the City to regularly demean men as sex objects? Hey ladies, if you can’t take the heat, get your ass back in the kitchen.
Men are guilty of this, too. We’ve become so pussy-whipped by political correctness that we’re programmed to freak out if someone says something even remotely offensive. After some driver joked that Danica Patrick couldn’t handle NASCAR because her period would bleed all over the track, the guys on Around the Horn absolutely freaked. Patrick, to her credit, laughed it off.
Well you know what, she should laugh it off. It was a perfectly innocuous, albeit stupid and not terribly funny, comment. Not for nothing, I know some very smart and funny women who can dish it out with the best of them. Women comprise 51% of this country, they can take care of themselves. And if some has-been like Keith Hernandez cracks a joke, fuck it.
The Scoop Jackson Theorem:
“Whatever Scoop says, do the opposite.”
I’ve mentioned Scoop before, proclaiming him the “2005 Dumbshit of the Year.” It’s not that he’s a bad columnist (I wouldn’t call his ESPN gig a column, it’s more like ghetto prose), I just have a hard time buying into his logic that everything, EVERYTHING, is racist.
We live in a racist world, fine. I understand that. But this fucker somehow managed to write that white fans who wore afros to support Rasheed Wallace were racist. He also claimed Dusty Baker gets a hard time from the Chicago media because they’re racist. Sure, has nothing to do with the fact that Dusty’s a bad coach, can’t manage a bullpen, and regularly throws his players under the bus.
And, AND! He wrote the single most infuriating column I’ve ever read by anybody a few weeks ago, about the state of black journalists in this country. He’s angry that only 4 of 305 sports editors in America are black. I hate this logic that because pro sports are dominated by black athletes, everything connected to pro sports must be dominated by blacks as well. There’s a big difference between hitting a jump shot and being a good writer.
Besides, journalism is a shitty business for everyone, black or white. I majored in journalism. I have no job and no prospects. I wake up every day (after 2 p.m., because again, I have no fucking job) and I regret majoring in journalism. It’s a shitty business predicated entirely on having connections and putting only a modicum of emphasis on real writing ability, as Scoop himself can attest. In his “column,” he asked a school of kids to name 300 NBA players. Then he asked them to name 300 black journalists. Huh? Can anyone name 300 white journalists? I majored in the goddamned subject and even I would get shaky after 75.
What the fuck is Scoop’s problem anyway? He was hired by ESPN because he gave them that ghetto voice they so desperately needed when Ralph Wiley died. Isn’t this biting the hand that so unnecessarily feeds you? I’ve been rejected by two newspapers because their next hire had to be a minority. Shouldn’t we all be a little more upset about that? That because of people like Scoop (not black people, just ignorant people), newspapers and magazines are in such a bind they’re forced to make hires based on skin color and agenda-laden psuedo-columnists? Fuck that. I’d major in women studies if I knew I’d have to put up with this horseshit.
So, in conclusion, for everything that Scoop Jackson says is racist, I’m going to beat it into the ground.
-He thinks the NBA dress code is racist, I suggest we make it stricter.
-He defends Dusty Baker. I say the Cubs not only fire him, but strap him to a rocket and shoot it at the sun.
-He likes the White Sox. Let’s all root for the Tigers. Go Verlander!
To follow George Costanza’s philosophy, if everything Scoop Jackson says is wrong, the opposite would have to be right.
God, I hate Scoop Jackson worse than poison.
Ugh. Moving on…
The Isaac Hayes Edict:
“If you can dish it out, you better be prepared to take it.”
Isaac Hayes, the voice of Chef, resigned last year because he couldn’t take South Park creators Trey Parker and Matt Stone and their ambiguity toward mocking religion. Hayes came to this decision shortly after an episode that mocked Scientology, of which Hayes is a subscriber.
Strangely, Hayes had no problem when the show hilariously insulted Catholics, Jews, Mormons and Muslims. Again, if you’re willing to kick others when they’re down, you better be cool when the boot goes flying up your black ass. There is nothing bitchier than someone who is more than willing to mock other people’s cultures, but can’t take someone mocking their own. What is this? First grade?
And not for nothing, but Scientology is not even a religion. It’s psychological mumbo-jumbo for pretentious asshats like John Travolta and Tom Cruise to subscribe. Hey, shitheads, just believe in God. Or Buddha. Or Allah. Or nothing. Don’t try to pawn off a fucking sci-fi novel as your Lord and Savior. Are you kidding me? I was raised Catholic. My religion got “The Ten Commandments” and Ben-Hur. Scientologists get Battlefield: Earth.
Nice. Well, I guess it beats being a Jew. Right, Mel?
The Ernest Borgnine Axiom:
“Anyone over the age of 70 can say whatever the hell they
Borgnine, you may recall, publicly claimed he wouldn’t vote for BrokebackMountain for Best Picture because he was offended by its theme of homosexuality. Naturally, all the liberals went crazy, even though Brokeback was a) a bad movie, and b) a really bad movie.
Look, I went out of my way in my review to claim my issue with the film was that it was contrived, badly acted, and about as exciting as giving your grandma a sponge bath. It would have been wrong for me to say, “Brokeback? That’s the fag movie, right? Thumbs down!” I didn’t say that, and I didn’t think that.
But I’m 22. I have no qualms with gays or anyone else for that matter. If a bill came along granting gays the right to marry, I’d be the first to sign. But Borgnine is 89. 89! Cut the man some slack. When he was born, women couldn’t vote and blacks were about 50 years from civil rights. To paraphrase Happy Gilmore, “He’s old. You can’t do this to him, he’s too old.”
The JD Rebello Dictum:
“It’s a fucking college humor column.”
In a year when I went above and beyond the call of duty to offend anyone and everyone, who could have known my most controversial column would have been about fucking MySpace? I received a lot of hate feedback for that, none better than this ditty:
You’re article is depressing if you are the next journalism wave…
What has happened to the english language? It does not seem possible for anyone these days to put forth an opinion that does not revolve around sex or profanity!
I challenge those who seek to practice real journalism to deliver articles of merit or worth….
Surely your profession should seek to make a difference rather than deliver vapid and specious ( you might want to look that up) material..
Is it possible for you to write anything without your hormones getting in the way of your articles?
Anyway, to adopt one of your better known colloquialisms ‘that’s my two cents worth’….
L | Email | Homepage | 08/01/06 – 4:51 am
L, which I believe is the first initial for “Little Cuntrag,” has made several mistakes here.
One: If I’ve said this once, I’ll say it a thousand times—please don’t question my journalism skills in reference to my PIC column. I write an Oscar column where I’ve regularly seen only one or two nominees. I don’t double check facts, hence my egregious error when I claimed MySpace ripped off Facebook, even though MySpace came out first. Whoops.
Two: If you think the English language shouldn’t involve sex and profanity, you would never have read my column because they don’t have the internet in fucking Amish country. If you get offended, my suggestion is stay off this website, which cheerfully advertises free condoms and t-shirts that mock the Duke lacrosse rape victim on the sidebar. In fact, stay off all college humor websites altogether. This is 2006. We’re way past “And what’s the deal with shower caddies? How does it get so dirty? It takes a shower everyday!”
Three: I know what specious means you pedomorph.
Four. Yes, it’s exceedingly possible for me to write an article without my hormones getting in the way. But just because it can
be done, doesn’t mean it should be done. I can eat my dog’s asshole, doesn’t mean I’m going to.
Seriously, if you’re going to leave dumb feedback, do me a favor and say it to a brick wall. Then break your fucking skull against it. Christ.
The Ann Coulter Truism:
“Don’t say something just to be a douchebag.”
Seriously, this is one evil lady. She wrote in her book that 9-11 widows were, and I quote, “self-obsessed broads who were enjoying their husbands’ deaths so much. How do we know their husbands weren’t planning to divorce these harpies?” My word. I’ve taken some cheap shots in my time, but to openly decimate the 9-11 widows… that takes a special brand of balls.
You know, there should be rules. You can’t just say anything. In Ann Coulter’s case, her sole reason for exercising free speech is to sell a few books, and that’s retarded. I refuse to believe anyone—even an ultra-conservative with a nice rack—would mean that.
In the reasons given above, not once is anything said for personal gain, it’s just someone spouting an opinion, whether they’re drunk (Gibson), old (Borgnine), or jobless and horny (moi). And that’s all this column is, me spouting an opinion. I’m not always right. In fact, I’m alarmingly consistent in my wrongness. But it’s my opinion. And I try to make it funny, give you a little haha, maybe even an LOL or a LMAO on a good day.
That’s all. It’s just me talking. And at the end of the day, that’s all any of this is.
Now shut the fuck up about it.