Eternal Preparation

Every once in a while I get these stupid emails from Campus Progress. I get them because I once took a survey on which the only question was "Do you think college is too expensive?" My answer was Yes.

I finally decided to take a look at the email I got today. It pretty much just linked to the latest articles on the Campus Progress site: the possible perks of single life, why selling out is integral in achieving happiness, and there was an article on Imus. The man is still news.

I don't have anything against Imus. Last time I listened to him is when my dad would drive me to middle school. I thought he was pretty funny. I thought he had a swell radio voice. And once there was this guy on the show who was talking to someone, and he threatened to "tear off your head and pee down your neck, and when the pee comes out people will think that it's your pee." My dad and I both laughed at that one.

I will always advocate free speech, so objectively speaking I support Imus, except that I care as much about him as I do about anything else, in that I don't.

Still, it got me thinking - a dangerous endeavor for everyone involved.

I have never been offended by racism. In fact, I'd say I'm pretty jaded towards it. In fact, I think it's pretty funny. Should I finally realize my goal of becoming a DJ at Emerson - which will be difficult now that I live off campus, even more so since the only slots available for newbies will probably be early weekday mornings - what if I were to say something racially insensitive? Not that I condemn races on a regular basis, but what if I should let a not-subtle-enough joke slip out, or if I should play the YTMND Racist Kramer remix?

Here is the best case scenario.

Hopefully the fiasco would occur a month or two into the semester after I've gained momentum and a solid fanbase.

And hopefully, I would not be fired immediately. I will have been a responsible DJ up to that point, and my remark would be open to interpretation. I would merely be asked to apologize by the radio people, the Berkely Beacon, possibly the faculty.

And I would. But not right away.

I would put up fliers and send out Facebook messages, and I would personally spread the word of my public apology, live on WECB. I would update my companion web site on Blogspot in preparation for TERRY'S PUBLIC APOLOGY SPECIAL!!

I would not introduce the show. I would begin my prepared monologue about my conception of race, speech and predestiny. Periodically, I would interrupt my monologue to play music, just as usual.

"The fact of the matter is that I had a difficult time discovering a racial identity as I was growing up..." [cue One Night in Bangkok]

In reality, the music itself may actually have some sort of context, not so much in relation to my monologue, but in comparison to the songs before and after. The soundtrack would tell a different story, I think - a sort of parallel action. The listener would learn that this show is not just about my apology. There is something else at stake here.

Actually, I think I might like all my shows to be this way. I want a system to my songs, an idea and a story, to stitch together an assembly of artists' independent thoughts into a cohesive arc. Along with myself - I don't want to merely introduce each song and make stupid jokes. I want to be part of the listening experience in a greater capacity than as a custodial mouthpiece. Whatever I have to say will have a place and a reason in the grand theme of the episode.

And then in the end, I would finally say, "Sorry I said the N word on the air, guys."