To the Max

if max were arab, muslim, or black, and angry enough to kill 32 people, would his writings still be protected under u.s. freedom of speech? would the aclu still come to his defense? if he wrote satire or spoke so casually of say, 9-11 and new york, rather than the virginia tech case, or "asians," would you still find it appropriate? i'm not saying i don't appreciate sattire; i am a writer myself, but what about being responsible with our "freedoms"?

I've heard so many unintelligent, automated sound bites on this issue, it sickens me. Step on a lever, "Freedom of speech", insert applause Step on a lever, "It's satire.", insert applause. Step on a lever, "What race hasn't been attacked...", insert applause. People don't read the news anymore, they memorize sound bites to make themselves sound clever. Journalists don't write news anymore, they just regurgitate and vomit a press release. What happened on Campus Press is a microcosm of all that is wrong with mainstream media. I expect Campus Press to produce stories that are well written and well articulated, rather than poorly written and barely though out. I expect Campus Press to care more about truth, accuracy and relevance than controversy, edginess, and publicity. I expect Campus Press to strive to produce A-list journalists instead of D-list wannabes. Are they marketers, or journalists?

It doesn't matter if it's funny. It doesn't even matter that it's racist. Mein Kompf is racist, but at least Hitler articulated his point well. The question is, is this good writing? Is this good journalism. I am for free speech all across the board. But as a journalist and staff writer, as an operative of the fourth estate, Karson and crew have the RESPONSIBLITY to write well. If it were a schmoe like me that wrote the article, it's one thing. He is a staff writer. He is a journalist (or at least he thinks he is one). I fault Karson for not writing a BETTER piece. I fautl the editor for not knowing the difference good writing and bad writing. But I don't think anyone needs to be suspended or fired. If they voluntarily quit, however, I think that would put faith back into the Campus Press.

MAX KARSON’S PET PROJECT: A SATIRE written by a non-journalist I was walking out of Illegal Pete’s the other day, when I happened to see Max Karson come out of the women’s restroom. I didn’t say anything. I figured Max Karson has a right to do what he wants. It’s not like he’s violated an actual law. So I decided to do the stereotypical Asian thing, and just keep my opinion to myself. “Hey, aren’t you Max Karson?” I asked. “Wow, I’m so glad you recognized me. I’ve worked very hard to get recognized in public,” Max bragged. “So…where ya headed Max?” Not that I actually cared. Just making polite conversation. “Well, coincidentally, I’m off to buy a dog,” giving me a little nudge. “What do you mean, ‘coincidentally’?” I nudged back. “You’re people are experts on dog, no?” I was about to say something, but then I decided he had a right to his opinion, and once again, I decided to do the stereotypical thing, and just keep my opinion to myself. “Why are you getting a dog?” I diverted. “Well, let me ask you this: do you think if I put peanut butter where the sun don't shine, and made the puppy lick me, would that be controversial?” Did he really ask me that? I couldn’t have heard that correctly. How would one not know if that would be controversial? “Sure,” I said in my most non-judgmental voice. After all, he’s only talking about it. It’s not like he’s actually going to do this, right? It’s just talk. So, he has the right to say what he is or is not going to do. So I said nothing. “So you think it would get a lot of attention?” Max asked. “Definitely. Especially with that recent Arvada dog case,” I said. “What dog case?” “You know. Rolo, the German shepherd that might get euthanized?” It’s been all over the papers. I don’t even own a dog, and I know about it. Hmm. I guess we do know a lot about dogs. Max just had a blank look on his face. Then his face lit up as if he had just reached enlightenment. “That’s perfect!” he exclaimed, “I can say it’s a satire about putting animals down. And it’ll get a lot of press, which means more people will know about me,” he explained. I was going to tell him that perhaps he should rethink his position, but that would be self-righteous of me, wouldn’t it? I mean, it’s just satire, right? It’s not like he actually DID anything. It’s just talk, right? Max turned around and went back into the women’s restroom, “I need to talk to my editor.” I wanted to stop him, but who am I to tell him what’s right and what’s wrong? He’s entitled to his opinion. It’s not like he actually DID anything. He’s just talking for now, right? So I decided to do the stereotypical Asian thing, and just keep my opinion to myself.

MAX KARSON THROUGH THE LOOKING GLASS written by a non-journalist As I walked out of the UMC, and let my eyes adjust to the light, someone from behind me slammed into me. It was Cassie Hewlings, the editor of the Campus Press, dressed like a Kittredge duckling “I’m sorry, quack, quack,” she said. Her eyes focused away from me. I turned around and there was a mob of Korean students running toward her. Well, they looked Korean anyway. “I’M SORRY! Quack, quack.” she exclaimed as she ran off, “I’m sorry! Quack, quack. I’m sorry! Double-quack.” The mob of Koreans chased after her, still holding their fingers in their ears. I stopped one of them. She pulled her fingers out of her ears. “Why do you have fingers in your ears?” I asked. “Because we don’t trust her words anymore,” she said, and then continued the chase. I walk over to a newsstand, and noticed all the copies of the Campus Press newspapers were gone. I go to another stand. Gone. Then I noticed a large pile of Campus Press newspapers sitting in the recycling bin. There were several days’ worth in there, and none of them had been read. I pulled one out, and I noticed there were no advertisements. On top of that, all the articles were about the same topic, but just different tones. They looked like they were all authored by different people, but then I just realized the names were just anagrams of the same name. The subject matter was closet space efficiency. A Japanese-looking student walked by, and dumped more Campus Press newspapers into the bin. “Why are you throwing these away?” I inquired. “Because we don’t trust their words anymore,” she explained. That’s when I noticed a whole line of Japanese students who have come to recycle the trash. Gotta love Japanese efficiency. I walked outside, and noticed a podium at the end of the UMC fountain, which happened to be filled with some kind of Kool-Aid. A bunch of Vietnamese students were standing in front of the podium with their ears duct taped. I don’t know how I knew they were Vietnamese considering their eyes were also covered in duct tape, but some how, I just knew. We always know. Then I saw Max Karson go up to the podium. Karson admired his audience for a second, lowered the mic, and turned around. Karson bent over, and grabbed hold of his cheeks to spread them apart. Everything then started to spin. His anus began to speak: "When I wrote my Pulitzer Prize winning satire, I was speaking for the Asian people because God knows they don't know enough English to speak for themselves. I know what it's like to be an Asian. Correction, Asian-American. I love pho, kung-fu movies, and Japanese bondage. I didn’t need to interview anyone. That would have made me a common journalist. I’m above that. I know what’s it’s like to be an Asian-American. I know their pain and suffering first hand. I grew up as an Asian-American. I AM ASIAN-AMERICA! So I don't owe Asian-Americans an apology. If anything, Asian-Americans owe me an apology…as soon as they pass their ESL classes.” I got so dizzy, I had to take my fingers put them in my ears, and shut my eyes.