Though they depict families at differentnends of the economic spectrum,nboth shows present a mass audiencenwith characters and situations that arenrecognizable without being realistic.n(When people want reality, they turnnthe set off.) Whatever Roseanne’s pretensionsn(or offenses), it was conceivednby its creators and is perceived by itsnconsumers as television — the entertainmentnequivalent of fast food — andntherefore has all the “social impact” ofna stop at McDonald’s.nSomething vital has been ignored innthe many deep-thinking analyses ofnRoseanne Barr’s sitcom character andnprofessional persona. For feminists andnother social philosophers who thinknlarge truths are revealed when a bluecollarnTV character handles an insensitivenboss by telling him he has “a littlenprize hanging out of [his] nose,” it’sneasy to overlook the fact that RoseannenBarr is first and last a part of the bignAmerican pop-entertainment machinen— which just happens to operate rightnin the middle of the commercial marketplace.nBarr is an agent not of politicsnor art but of commerce, and thereforenthe only philosophical question withnany relevance to her comedy goesnsomething like this: if a comediennenWHISTLING DIXIEnDispatches from the SouthnJohn Shelton ReednForeword by Eugene Genovesentells a joke in the forest and there is nonone around to hear it, is she funny? Ifnthat question comes up often enough,nthe comedienne ends up declaringnherself a “survivor” and working on ancomeback.nWhen Roseanne Barr sang “ThenStar-Spangled Banner” in San Diego,nthere was an instantaneous shift innpublic attitude toward her—not becausenshe sang it badly (lots of peoplenhave messed up that song withoutngetting booed), but because she was sonpleased to sing it badly. The commentatorsnwho compared her performancento flag burning were as off base as thenfeminists who defended her as thenvictim of a double standard. There wasnno political message in her actions, justnas there is no political significance innher television show. Her performancenof the national anthem was a case ofncelebrity ego run amok, a vocal mooningnin which thirty thousand peoplenwere made the captive objects of anprivate joke. And because audiencesndon’t take kindly to being left out onnthe joke (not to mention that it’s a badnidea to moon the national anthem), thengears began to turn (“boo!”), the bignmachine began to hum (“booooo!”),nand Roseanne Barr took her first stepn’ A, PHII OSC^I’HK AI DAYBOOKnPost-CviticaI Ini>csti(iationsnWilli.im W. roical– -i «. » .*/nT’ *» «** 1 I -s ‘ ^ J*’ “•> -^intoward the silent show-biz forest.nThe day after she discovered thatnirony and the national anthem don’tnmix, Barr held a press conference tonexplain herself The event showcasednthe Blue-Collar Queen as a case ofnarrested development. She was petulant,nevasive, and defensive. In fact, shendisplayed the behavior of one who feelsn”jilted” and “despised.” She demonstratednher usual command of thenlanguage by explaining that, you know,nshe did, like, the best she could andneverything. She said more or less thatnthe Padres fans had been mean to her,nand she defiantly asserted, though thenquestion hadn’t come up, “It’s mynnational anthem too.” When told thatnPresident Bush had called her performancen”disgraceful,” she responded,n”I’d like to see him sing it.” (ThatnBush was ridiculed for his commentnwas amazing. What was the Presidentnof the United States supposed to saynabout such a performance — that henliked it?) The crotch-grabbing and thenspitting? The players had suggested it.nAnd she said she would do the wholenthing again, “but I’d do it for a hipperncrowd. If this is the worst thing they’venever heard, then their lives have beennpretty easy.” That’s it! All those boosn^tS.j’n”U ii’li .ni’iiMl tMm».s’Mini.ii (H(.i ‘iiliciii iin’i Tills, \ iIiMniii+nt ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ • • . -• •n’tht|gi<>i nj.Ui(i’J.nTtA •yliiUis<>|j|n i^M tlu .liunian ^^ jj; fj-n||^.”^’i”^;^’:W^ ijL i, f > %k .i n. •? -n’ iHh MI;N I HAVK CHO.SHN FOR PATHF.RSn|r •*» M’ ‘^i’ ‘jr- **> *'”l •* •’ ‘ -. ••>• > .’ .nLiterary and PhilosophicalnWhistliitfj Dixie ^”h genuinely witty, sometimes hilarious. . . JK ^ a,:, -p: y^ ^ tf. ‘.!• hnliMarion Mc>nts;onicr.nSimply, it is tun reading. But it is also a deadly serious booknPassaqcsn•. ^noFsoeial criticism. . . . Reed’s imderstanding of thenfel-l!in’ie’. ,fc)«( oiuiMi, RiilHjt KrnM, Alevjuder Snl/hciiiisn,ncontemporary South is historicallv grounded, sound, and l;-T^,’!*,-W-^.«!”W’*«; «= «r ^ ,*• r. •¥» •’• -.nntough-minded.”—Eiijjaic GcniivcscnSl-rii. (ieu,elin ‘Maiiuii .li)nmonier tinds .i commonn264 pages, SI9.95nf?gr()Uiii.l’ainoiig»rl!i’in .>l«regi!mahsni;>i; ^ all ^ av.-iiiTparii>.ipaiiMn in-a ipadiiiDn’n% %n.^20 paues; S24 95nUniversity of Missouri Pressn2910 LeMone Boulevard •n48/CHRONICLESnInFnInColumbia, Missouri 65201nnn•nVinI’ s: . •njn1-800-828-1894n