Last night, Discovery aired KKK: Beneath the Hood, a documentary that purported to offer previously unavailable access to various Ku Klux Klan chapters. Such unveiling feels like an act of desperation for a dying breed of people who are irrationally fixated on racial purity and white supremacy while claiming that they don't hate anyone. Bigotry is alive, of course, but I wonder how well it is when even the Klan is too cowardly to own up to its hatred. (Note: Hamilton Nolan's "My Kasual Kountry Weekend With the Knights of the Ku Klux Klan" Gawker story from last year touches on this very phenomenon.)
It is 1986. We are 13- and 14-year-olds, rank-smelling in unwashed teenager jeans, unsupervised and latch-keyed after school, huddled around the face of the future: The screen of a first-generation Apple Macintosh personal computer. Within the machine's non-dairy creamer-colored casing is a malleable visual playground unlike anything we had seen before: Manic fonts, brick-wall patterns summoned with a mouse-click and distorted at will, spray-paint lines of variable size and density.