People are upset about this ad that ran nationwide during the Super Bowl. It concerns the Michigan race for U.S. Senate:
Not many are able to articulate what exactly is so awful about it, they just say it’s obviously racist, end of discussion. Is the ad racist? Absolutely. Not as overtly as it could be. Go-for-broke racism caricaturizes; the only thing that gets close to grotesquery here is when the young lady’s lack of an accent posits an apparently much more stubborn Chinese misconjugation problem (“your economy get very weak”).
No, the Chinese people as depicted by the actress are good-looking, intelligent, and significantly westernized– not the typical racial cartooning at all. So, great! Well, no.
We have here a Chinese woman in her early twenties, living humbly but happily in a farming community. Riding her bike along a dirt road. She’s humdrum. She has no political relevance.
Yet she is giddy because America might be negatively affected by a macroeconomic issue that’s mediated nowhere near her tiny piece of Earth.
More than giddy, she actually uses body language that indicates she’s sexually aroused when talking about her government owning America’s national debt. It’s a good thing that China owns only 8% of the debt; a 15% or a 20% video and she’d be violating YouTube’s terms of service.
This is guileless xenophobia– portraying another nation’s citizenry all the way down to the proleiest of the proletariat as extremely enthusiastic, actively pernicious antagonists of ours. It’s their national character, you’re meant to believe. That’s where the racism lies. Even China’s farmgirls are sarcastically thanking you and reveling in your imminent destruction by debt, America, are you going to just sit there and let them? Er, did I say America? I mean Michigan. Let’s go Michigan, clearly you need to vote for the guy who’s so fiscally responsible he ran a nationwide ad during the most expensive ad time possible to win a state election.
This was an ad made by a GOP candidate for national office. Vote for me, or fetching rural bicyclists will enslave you. This is where we are at as a country. What a joke.
I was just about to turn 11 when George H.W. Bush came to my hometown of Westbrook, Maine campaigning for re-election as Reagan’s Vice President. I was wearing a sign around my neck made by cutting a rectangle out of a manila folder. Written on it in ball-point pen was the word “REPORTER”. One word, but five times: once big in the middle, and once at an angle in each corner. With me were three other sixth graders, with their own badge designs.
Sarah Palin hasn’t been seen since she handed over the largest state to her lieutenant governor, what’s-his-name. The one she sarcastically admonished the media not to hound in her