In "Divorce Song," Liz Phair sings, "They put it in my
hand a loaded gun, and then told me not to fire it."
This seems to be the philosophy of MTV these days:
give its viewers a "loaded gun" in the form of myriad
misogynist and homophobic videos, but then tell them
not to hate women or queers. Plug Aerosmith videos
that turn women into cardboard cut-outs (quite
literally, in "Love In an Elevator" video), but then
proclaim, with all kinds of self-righteousness, that
women are not to be raped, abused, or disrespected.
Play Eminem's "The Real Slim Shady," in which the
video-god du jour vomits at the sight of two "fags"
exchanging wedding vows, but then air Judy Shepard's
public service announcement urging young people to
refrain from using hateful speech against queers. How
touching. And how utterly and grossly hypocritical.
Some of this makes sense. After all, MTV long ago
stopped being the place where innovative ideas came to
fruition and where struggling and/or unique artists
had a chance at real exposure. It has long been a
victim of its own need to grow bigger, faster, and
with a greater kiss-ass aesthetic than can be
witnessed perhaps anywhere else on cable television.
MTV is a whore, and has been for at least the last 10
years, if not longer. Hiding behind "viewer demand,"
MTV avoids taking responsibility for the commercial
success for artists like Eminem, perhaps the most
openly violent, homophobic, misogynist to ever be both
a critics' favorite and a TRL hottie. MTV claims that
it has a duty to respond to the wishes of its viewers.
And it is right on that point.
Eminem isn't a radio star so much as he is a video
star: there's no denying that videos like "Stan" and
"The Real Slim Shady" have made Eminem the near-iconic
figure he is. MTV is what made Eminem a star: he was
even granted his own airtime block over a weekend back
in 2000, called EmTV. For the network to now pull back
from all that celebratory exploitation and act as
though Eminem is something that happened to them,
instead of something that happened because of them,
is as transparently calculating as it patronizing.
All of this is why MTV's "Fight For Your Rights: Stop
Hate Crimes" campaign is so repulsive. Certainly one
could make the argument that any exposure is better
than no exposure, but MTV's self-congratulatory
histrionics have turned a serious, deadly issue into a
circus. And there is no better example of this than
its airing of the MTV original film Anatomy of a Hate
Crime, a horribly pedantic and artistically void
interpretation of Matthew Shepard's violent murder,
followed by 17 hours of pseudo-blackout. In an attempt
to "honor" and "remember" the victims of past and
present hate crimes, the network has halted its
regular programming in favor of listing victims of
hate crimes and the circumstances surrounding their
victimization. This seems fine, perhaps even
benevolent. Except that all MTV is really giving up is
some cheap commercial time: the "blackout" starts at
the tail end of prime time, and stops,
oh-so-conveniently, just in time for the daily showing
of TRL, MTV's latest cash cow and kiddie-draw. My,
what a coincidence!
Perhaps MTV's opaque attempt at political correctness
and sensitivity training would be a bit more
convincing if it really put its money where its mouth
is. If MTV actually stood up against hostile
representations of queers that negatively influence
its young viewers, if it stopped glorifying violent
behavior, and if its own programs actually treated
women as something other than sexual objects, MTV
might actually earn some respect. But it doesn't have
the balls for that. Instead, MTV has given us
sensitivity-lite, empathy chic. It has turned
nonviolence and anti-homophobia into a fashion
accessory, a hula hoop for generation Y, something to
be used while it's hot and then discarded like so many
flare-pants or belly chains.
But no doubt MTV feels good about itself right now,
pleased with the kick-off to its year of anti-hate
programming. No doubt it is counting on the collective
ignorance of its viewership, presuming that we put two
and two together and get something other than four.
Unfortunately, it's probably right. Let the
self-back-patting begin.