Not if it’s based on Rastafarianism. And Leviticus 18:22 and 20:13. Sorry.
Well, I did it. I was alone for awhile, with a candle – a weird feeling to protest alone. It makes you feel awkward and…, well, oddly vulnerable. Talked to some kids and had some good conversations. One guy kept running by and blowing out my candle. Eventually I was joined by a couple of people. Someone else was up at the gate trying to hand out purple armbands. Pretty lame turnout compared to the ruckus on Thank Jah this morning, but it was short notice.
I was right last night. This is a generational thing.
Esteban, who protests each Friday at noon in Garberville, wanted to be there. He was going to try to talk Carol into getting us an audience with Banton. I don’t know that it would have accomplished much, but anyway Esteban was unable to make it due to familial obligations. Quite frankly, I don’t think I have a whole lot to say to the Banton anyways other than “stop being a dick.”
I wish I’d had time to get on the phone and coax more people out, but I had to cook tonight, and the kids needed some attention. I’ve never really been cut out for the activist role anyway.
Quite frankly I found the spokeswoman for Banton Estelle attempted to interview to be evasive, manipulative, and annoying. I really don’t want to hear about how “spiritual” Buju Banton is – Pat Robertson and Bin Laden are also spiritual. Nor do I care how great his music is. And I don’t think encouraging people to pour acid over homosexuals’ heads or burn them alive is in any way mitigated by the fact that he was motivated by some child molestation in the news. That he was 15 is mitigation, negated by the fact that he continues to sing it. Nor to I believe that his recent performances of the song are about telling us “where he came from.” Nowhere in her statement was there any indication that he feels badly about the song, nor its impact, nor any desire to reconcile with the people he’s hurt. And I’ve found nothing in any independent source to support her vague explanation of repudiation of the the song in 1992. I didn’t even hear any recognition from her that the lyrics are patently evil, mitigated by youth or not. And Amnesty International is not about to change their minds about the evidence against him in the bashing incident by coming to a concert and listening to his music.
Oh, and as I was listening to the full interview, Estelle took a call from Heather, Carol Bruno’s daughter. She claimed that Banton would not be making any apologies because he would face reprisals at home if he did so. Estelle saw fit not to report that, probably because it’s patently stupid. He’s not going to apologize because he hates homosexuals – plain and simple.
I’ll give Carol Bruno the benefit of the doubt that she was ignorant of all this when she booked him, and probably she heard from his attorneys after canceling the show. However, since yesterday I’m hearing that there have been incidents at Reggae on the River in recent years – such that organizers in one instance felt compelled to come onto the stage and apologize to gay and lesbian members of the audience. One person to whom I spoke said “it’s getting out of control.”
It’s a culture clash. I understand that some of these artists were raised with these bigotries. But we wouldn’t tolerate it from anybody else, and it certainly undermines the notion of “one love.”
Consider me seriously disillusioned.
Here are the lyric by the way.
Buju Banton – Boom Bye Bye
Boom bye bye
Boom [as in gun sound] goodbye, goodbye [as in we won’t be seeing you again, you’re dead]
Inna batty bwoy head
In a queer’s head
Rude bwoy no promote no nasty man
Rude boys don’t promote no queer men
Dem haffi dead
They have to die
Send fi di matic an
Send for the automatic [gun] and
Di Uzi instead
The Uzi instead
Shoot dem no come if we shot dem
Shoot them, don’t come if we shoot them [as in don’t come to help them]
Guy come near we
If a man comes near me
Then his skin must peel
Then his skin must peel [as in pour acid over him]
Burn him up bad like an old tire wheel
Burn him up badly, like you would burn an old tire wheel