Funny as Hell. Literally.

This was today’s The Argyle Sweater by Scott Hilburn, a very popular comic strip which runs in many newspapers across the country and also online via any website that uses GoComics. For those who cannot read it, the book is entitled, "How to Show Love by Chris Brown."

When is domestic violence funny? Personally, I think it never is. Nevertheless, it seems that we, as a nation, are having yet another bout of laughter over the apparently still recent Rihanna-Chris Brown incident—getting her borrowed stuff back. I think this whole thing is sad because we missed an opportunity to have a very real and very frank conversation about the current state of domestic violence. Yet, for reasons beyond me, jokes and humor are presented as medicine for the pain. Sadly, history has shown yet again that they have served more as ineffective and noxious placebos rather than the real thing.

First and foremost, this is not an isolated incident. It is imperative that we not forget this. Domestic violence is much more prevalent in today’s society than people think. According to a National Institute of Justice study of all 50 states and DC, “nearly 25% of women and 7.6% of men were raped and/or physically assaulted by a current or former spouse, cohabiting partner, or dating partner/acquaintance at some time in their lifetime.” Sadly the “official” statistics point to a graver picture for more disadvantaged pockets of the population as domestic violence often goes under-acknowledged and/or under-reported in wealthier populations. Either way, I repeat that the Chris Brown-Rihanna incident is not an isolated case. Statistically speaking, Rihanna stands as one out of four women one sees on the street on any given day. Funny? I think not. An incident with so much publicity and notoriety could have been the chance the nation so desperately needed to begin the process of addressing such a prevalent problem.


It is disheartening to see shirts that read “I’ll Chris Brown A B*tch” being sold let alone worn by members of any community as I do not see this as a racial issue as others have. Rihanna and Chris Brown’s role as entertainer and popular-culture figures only serve to shed the spotlight on their relationship. Some scholars like Kimberle Crenshaw have argued that black women are the social and cultural bearers of their race and orient their behaviors toward protecting their men. This may be true but I do not believe it is necessarily race specific. And instead of acknowledging commonality in light of difference to have, again, a frank discussion about the internal dynamics of relationship across racial, sexual orientation, and class lines, we find ourselves back at square one: wondering why Rihanna—seen as an individual—took Chris Brown back.

The lackadaisical response to such issues is discouraging. Focusing on the role of misogyny in hip hop and rap music, this time, is more of a red herring—something to take our attention away from a more pressing, more ingrained problem that plagues the nation as a whole. Focusing on individual choices in such incidents is yet another one. It is so sad that we are paying so much attention to these individual trees that we cannot begin to even think of the forest.