I’d Rather Drink Battery Acid Than Argue with Racists on Twitter About the Little Mermaid
They keep moving the goalpost.
Being a racist is the hardest job in the world.
You’re probably waiting for a sarcastic qualifier for that statement, but I have none. It’s true.
The role is unimaginably taxing. It requires the analytical and technical know-how of skilled engineers, the flexibility of Olympic gymnasts, the delusion of starving artists, the unmitigated creativity of undergrad students writing a 5000-word essay the night it’s due and the desperation of politicians backed into an impossible corner.
I’ve always admired the mental fortitude of racists. I imagine it is exhausting, back-breaking work to reposition goalposts after every failed talking point.
Nowhere is this clearer than with the whole Little Mermaid debacle.
I had planned to do a broader examination of the consequences of “review bombing” in film and TV, paying specific attention to the new Rings of Power show and the Little Mermaid teaser trailer. However, I’ve concluded that I don’t care about the Lord of the Rings — at all. Best to let the Tolkien warriors argue amongst themselves.
