Sound Check
1998; Johns Hopkins University Press; Volume: 21; Issue: 1 Linguagem: Inglês
10.1353/cal.1998.0035
ISSN1080-6512
Autores ResumoSound Check* Dominic A. Taylor (bio) Character M.C. Black Woman Setting A bare stage in a Rock and Roll Club. Center stage is a microphone and a microphone stand. Time Any time At Rise, M.C. walks to center stage and speaks into the microphone. Check, check . . . check. I was . . . I was . . . I used to be looking for . . . I’m a little bit nervous. . . . This woman. This man. Emancipation. America. Lies. The Constitution. A spotlight is placed on her. I was walking down the street, and I heard these footsteps coming behind me. I started to slow down, and then they started to speed up. I started to speed up, and then they started to slow down. I stopped, turned around, and saw nothing. Turned back around and there was a couple, in front of me. Walking away from me. I didn’t experience them passing me, but there they were in front of me. So, I then started to speed up to catch them. I couldn’t do it. I was running real fast, and I just never made up ground. I was then exhausted, so I stopped. When I stopped, I heard the footsteps coming behind me again, and I haven’t stopped since. Walking, walking, walking. I like walking. The thing I found out about police walking the beat . . . There was this police officer, a male officer . . . The spotlight becomes more narrow, now just holding her head and upper chest. [End Page 111] who was walking his beat. Well, I ask for directions. He says, “Are you sure that you want to take those pretty little legs to that side of town?” He says, “I can give you a ride.” I say, “No thanks.” He still hasn’t given me directions yet. When he does give me directions, I feel his eyes grope me. I walk away, turn around and his eyes are attached to what was once my behind, but now is my crotch. He says, “Just looking out for you, ma’am.” Today I went in search of truth. I don’t want to give you the impression that I feel imprisoned by this maleness. But today, I’ve been called: sugar, cookie, cup cake, sweetie pie, honey, crumpet, twinkle, dumpling, candy, tomato, number, shake, sauce, dressing, correct, wrong, cold, hot, soft, hard, sweet, and a bitch. All by the same person, and in the same sentence. So, I’m standing talking to this male friend of mine, and we were talking about things: work, pool, sports, literature . . . well he is standing there. He had just said something, I’m not sure what it was, well then he kissed me. Why did he do that ? That’s what I asked him. He said that he “felt that he had to.” He then said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know that you were like that.” I said, “Like what? Repulsed, yes. This has nothing to do with anything, other than the fact that I did not, ask, expect, or want you to put your lips on mine. Not now, not ever. Unless I ask you.” One of my friends. Spotlight shrinks even more, now contains her face. The emancipation proclamation freed no one. It helped kill a tree. Oh . . . Emancipate slaves in armed rebellion against the Union. If they were in armed rebellion, it is painfully obvious that Lincoln had no control. [Laughs] Mother fucker this, mother fucker that. It’s intriguing that only mothers get fucked. I went in search of truth today. Am I open season, for any man who thinks he may be stronger than I, to say anything to me regarding sexuality? [End Page 112] I know that I shouldn’t blame Playboy. Hugh and Christina are believers in Dollarism. A hum is heard in the background. We raise our daughters, and pamper our sons; So that we worry about our daughters for the rest of our lives, because we never raised our sons right. I was wondering what makes these brothers . . . It’s just because I happened to go in search of truth today. I had to know not what, but how it meant. How I carried myself to...
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