On my cat’s frequent use of the n-word

First off, it’s totally OK that my cat says it – nobody has any proof he isn’t descended from some Egyptian cat, and Egypt is clearly part of Africa, and in this country “African-American” generally signifies someone as being black, and "being black” is such a nebulous thing anyway – I mean if a black Jamaican can say it, and so can a black Canadian, and I don’t believe anyone would object too much if an Aboriginal Australian said it, or a Congolese Pygmy, or Filipino Negrito, or Jason Kidd or Barack Obama, who are both US citizens from mixed race parents – then why not my possibly Egyptian cat? Would anyone have stopped Anwar Sadat from saying it? I doubt it.

So, with that out of the way let’s get to the point of it – most middle-class white folk like myself want a cool black friend who would call them the n-word (“-ah” not “-er”, of course) in a casual, jocular way, like if you were getting some lunch together they’d be all “N-word, give me some those fries,” and then they’d totally grab some of your French fries off of your plate, and you’d totally think, “He/she called me that, but it’s OK, because we’re friends and they’re black, or black enough that it’s OK for them to say that (see above discussion).”

Basically, we all just want to hang out with Dave Chapelle, who’s hilarious and non-threatening enough to appeal to white America, but still has some idea of “street-cred” because he was on that show and those rappers liked him, and rap’s street, right?

So, since I live in a town that’s less than 1% black, and cool, funny black friends have been few and far between, in the dry spells I’m forced to project my want of a hip black friend on my cat. When he meows at me from outside so that I’ll come let him in I imagine he’s actually saying “Come let me in, n-word, if I could work the door knob I’d do it myself, but I can’t!” Or when I’m reading a book and he jumps up in my lap, I like to imagine him saying “Lookout, n-word, I’m coming up!”

Now, some of you are doubtless thinking that I’m somehow commodifying the abstract concept of hip, urban blackness, and thus reducing a large group of people to an idea or product that can be acquired, and thus denying a group their individuality, and here’s what I say to that – no, I’m not. My cat’s hip and urban, and sometimes - and that’s the thing, it isn’t always that he says it, just sometimes – he drops the n-word in casual conversation. Paramount to all of that, though, is the fact that we’ve known each other for over 7 years and in that time have developed an understanding with each-other built on mutual respect, and that relationship is really what makes it OK. Plus, I like to imagine he does a great L’il Jon impression.