Wanna be a Member?

There is an old Betty Boop cartoon which I love called “Bimbo’s Initiation” where Betty’s odd canine love interest, Bimbo, is beset upon by droves of frat-boy like creatures who insist that he become a member of their organization. The chorus repeats endlessly: “Wanna be a member? . . . Wanna be a member? . . . Wanna be a member? . . .” Bimbo replies over and over: NO!!!!! In the end, the oddly druidic frat-creatures take off their robes and reveal that they are all replicant Betty Boops.

For some reason, the rhetorical strategy (and the tune which plays when you surf in) of NRA Blacklist sounds much the same. The every-changing parade of celebrities in the top corner says something about our culture. “Wanna be a member? Wanna be a member?” [via Dust from a Distant Sun]

Methinks they are barking up the wrong tree of the rugged individualist American vibe, although they are likely to gain many signatures. It reminds me of something the director of an arts council said to me once—“I don’t mind politics in art, as long as I agree with the politics.” Why on earth would it be supposed that I might want to have my name placed next to Ben Affleck? NO!!!!!!

Perhaps it’s just the hope that a surfer will identify with at least one of the names that flash across the top. After all, that’s probably what the whole Charleton Heston/NRA connection was all about. However, though I am anti-gun, I am also anti-Whitney Houston. The connection is not persuasive to me at all.