I am sure you have heard the “Bed Intruder Song” on YouTube, in which an angry news interview with a man named Antoine Dodson about an attempted sexual assault on his sister has been turned into an R&B song using the musical software AutoTune. Fifteen million other people have seen it. You may even be among the thousands that have paid $1.39 to download the song from iTunes, where it currently resides on the best-seller list at number 39, or maybe you are one of the hundreds that have posted your own cover of the song.
But not everyone is a fan. Some, such as Baratunde Thurston, web editor of the satirical news site TheOnion.com, feel that the meme at best makes light of sexual assault victims, and at worst is a blatantly racist case of smug, middle class kids mocking a poorer community’s problems and discontent.
Granted, it is difficult to pinpoint what exactly makes the video so popular. It may be the imagery created by Mr. Dodson’s vivid word choice of “he’s climbing in your windows and snatching your people up.” Or it may be the bizarre dystopia he describes when he tells his neighbors to “hide your kids, hide your wife and hide your husbands, ‘cause they’re raping er’body out here.” Or it could be his rough understanding of forensic investigation when he triumphantly tells the attacker in the audience that “we got your T-shirt, you done left fingerprints and all.” Or it might be the sight of this skinny, flamboyant and slightly effeminate man threatening to dish out vigilante justice when he declares “you don’t have to come and confess! We’re gonna find you!”
Insensitivity towards the victim is a legitimate concern, and one that I’m not sure I can get over. Sure, we can point out the brother’s rant is the focus of the meme, not his sister’s victimization, but that doesn’t change the fact that we are all laughing at and singing along with a song that is about rape. And after all, there’s plenty to get upset about. According to University statistics, one in four women in college will be the victim of an attempted sexual assault. The fact that the Dodsons have not angrily climbed atop their soapboxes is clearly a sign that they are more resilient than the average person thrust into the public spotlight.
If we can move past the meme’s traumatic origin, we still have to ask ourselves: are we laughing with the Dodsons or at them? Yes, Antoine Dodson talks, dresses and acts in ways that are considerably different from the white Brooklyn musicians that created the song. But a simple YouTube search will show that the phenomenon transcends class, geography and race. Covers of the song have been made in all types of genres by all types of people, all the way up to a full instrumentation by the North Carolina A&T marching band.
I think that the video’s popularity has to do with something that we do not see too much anymore: genuine, justified anger. When we watch the video or listen to the song, we are observing something different than the egotistical posturing seen on reality shows like “Jersey Shore,” or the self-righteous lecturing handed out by pundits. The ignorance of Antoine Dodson’s hyperboles and the vernacular that he phrases it in are not what make the interview humorous, it is his passion and sincerity. Caught in the midst of a family crisis, Mr. Dodson did something pretty exceptional: he acted like a real person in front of a camera. The fact that this has created such a sensation says far more about the current state of our culture than it does about his intelligence or emotional stability.