Culture Blues

John Burgman: The Rant: Futile Feuds

100 years from now, the early 21st Century might be viewed retrospectively as a time of celebrity-obsessed technomania; drama and competition in the television and movie worlds was played out on micro-devices that, themselves, represented competition between worlds such as Apple, Amazon.com, Verizon, and Google (Blackberry v. iPod, or Kindle v. Nook, and so forth). 2009, which began largely as a year of Barackian harmony, might be recalled as a year of antagonism. People will remember all the industrial competition. The international political battles. The environmental debates. Opposition everywhere and rivalries rampant. People will not, however, remember this week’s paltry feud between Isiah Thomas and Magic Johnson. And that’s a shame, because it represents much more than the boring, post-career exploits of two former athletic greats.

Better days

For the uninformed, today's grudge between Thomas and Johnson stems from comments Johnson made for an upcoming book, When the Game Was Ours, about the classic 1980s NBA rivalry between Magic Johnson and Larry Bird. In the book, Johnson accuses Thomas of spreading lies in the aftermath of Johnson’s well-publicized HIV diagnosis and subsequent retirement from professional basketball. Among other points, Johnson claims that Thomas gossiped about his (Johnson’s) sexual orientation. Thomas, of course, has retorted and expressed sheer surprise at Johnson’s accusations. And despite the fact that any argument seems somewhat childish when backdropped by the cruel reality of HIV, Thomas’ and Johnson's argument continues to gain momentum as they each make the press rounds to substantiate their respective sides of the story.

And almost from the moment the story broke, the press referred to the disagreement as a “feud.” Forget the concept of differing opinions or variance of memory. Johnson and Thomas, who are former friends, are engaged—in the eyes and words of the media—in what is defined as a “prolonged or inveterate” vendetta. And they’re hardly the first public figures whose quarrel has been so tremendously labeled. The modern media seems obsessed with feuds—or at least obsessed with attaching that label—"feud"—to celebrity squabbles.

In the mid-1990s, Tupac Shakur and Notorious B.I.G. “feuded” and became martyrs for the larger rivalry between East Coast and West Coast hip hop. Largely driven by the strong localism of various artists (rappers from New York City claimed that the East Coast had the superior hip hop talent and culture, while Los Angeles rappers plugged the superiority of the West Coast’s scene), the feud amounted to a blurred line between fact and fiction, between boastful showmanship and violent authenticity. Money, drugs and gangs were heavily associated with the feud, and eventually the panorama of the whole brouhaha swelled and, sadly, surpassed most of the artistic merit of the performers. As most music fans know, Shakur was killed in a drive-by in Las Vegas; Notorious B.I.G. was killed in a Suburban in Los Angeles.

OMG pistols at dawn ya bitch k?

Another modern feud that amounted to less violence but seemingly analogous media coverage was the famed Paris Hilton/Nicole Richie feud surrounding their complex balancing of The Simple Life with the simple Hollywood social scene. It was, essentially, a quarrel devoid of consequence, an inflated tabloid tiff that benefited each woman more than any PR firm ever could. But it was labeled a “feud” nonetheless, and is recalled as such today.

So what is the average citizen to make of “feuds,” in the contemporary context? For starters, a feud is, nowadays, an exclusive club. The concept of the feud is one of society’s best examples of the gaping disconnect between celebrities and the rest of the nation. Indeed, feuds between pop culture stars are all-too-common, whereas you’d be hard-pressed to find any layperson who has ever “feuded” with anyone. We don’t feud with our neighbors, our bosses, or our coworkers. Such melodramatic, categorical taxonomy is reserved for public figures, which only furthers the feeling of celebrities being caricatures, distortions and personification of our hubris, people who aren’t real and thus, can be exploited without guilt by the media, the paparazzi, the fans.

Naturally, the question to ask is when, exactly, did feuds switch from being legitimate, multi-generational blood brawls between families and factions (think the Montagues and Capulets) into the bickering TMZgasms that they are today?

It’s tough to say. And the answer is complicated by the fact that feuds and their resulting fatalities were once considered a somewhat legitimate way of settling disagreements. Thus, pinpointing the beginning of feuding is correlated with pinpointing the beginning of judicial law itself.

Tsugaru clan kept it real

But what can easily be determined is that long before Jay-Z and Nas had beef, long before Rosie O’Donnell and Donald Trump traded jabs, the men of the biblical age, Japanese Samurais, and Celtic warriors all engaged in personal vendettas revolving around reputation, moral honor, family reputation and respect. Thousands of individuals lost their lives to the violence of these early feuds. And as much as hip hop’s inane bravado can energize a feud for a year (or at least an album), it’s hard to imagine any modern celebrity grudge lasting as long as some of the early, decade-long clan feuds.

Of course, aside from mobster-style grit, as well as certain incarnations of fighting among street gangs, the family-wide, generational style of feuding of ancient times is mostly dead in America. But that hardly means we should create a new concept of feuding that showcases vapid celebrity spats that are quickly forgotten and ultimately a waste of everyone’s time.

Which brings us back to Johnson and Thomas, apparently divided by deception, but nonetheless forever connected by NBA nostalgia and lore. Assuming their feud started this week, as Thomas purports, they have been legends for much longer than they have been enemies. And undoubtedly people 100 years from now will group them together for their eye-catching talent and renowned charisma on the court rather than this measly bickering. And that’s where both men are at their best—on the court, amid the modern feud of sport, rather than engaging in what sadly passes for a vendetta in this civilized day and age.