(Sigh!) The New Yorker Cover

Damn, the news that moves the blogoshere is so fast a blogger can get whip-lash. Just when we were digging our teeth into Jesse's furious facination with Obama's nuts, the New Yorker magazine sucker-punches us with its quasi-satirical cover of Barck and wife Michelle dressed as terrorists (Barack, the turban-wearing, Middle Eastern kind, and Michelle, the fornlorn '60s black nationalist kind). But so much has been said and screamed about the wrong-headed move of the magazine that I don't have much to say. I saw what they were trying to do (being the latte-drinking, cultural elitist East Coaster that I am...LOL) and, for a brief moment, I chuckled. Sorry, I'm a fan of the publication. But, as many have pointed out, satire is about exaggerating the characteristics of the intended target, not playing up the stereotypes of the person or group you're trying to defend. If David Remnick was attemtping to satirize the racist fears of white people, primarily those in the south and mid-section of the country, he should have made this type of voter the focus of his cover. Say, a Nascar-loving, greasy baseball cap-wearing, gun-obsessed hick with buck-teeth, if we're sending up stereotypes here. But making fun of rednecks doesn't sell magazines, and to crack on ignorance, white supremacy, and fear in the face of a possible black president would be too much work for an illustrator with a weekly deadline. So, there you have it. Poor satire because of poor aim at the intended target. For a refresher course go to the latest by Jib Jab. And better luck next time.