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Crucified By The FCC.

Yeah, I know. I normally avoid talking about U.S politics, because - frankly - we get enough of that over here, usually at the expense of serious discussion of our own internal affairs. In this case, though, I'm going to make an exception, because I'm compelled to step up to bat for a hero of mine, who has endured vilification during the entire course of his career and now - because of his desire to voice his political opinion - he has been professionally castrated and legally threatened.

Howard Stern has been broadcasting his syndicated radio show for over twenty years. At one point, he was THE dominant figure in American radio, demolishing all of his opposition in any market he touched. He was, at the same time, a figure who garnered massive amounts of controversy due to the sexually explicit, barrier-breaking format of his program, which sought to provide listeners with a format in which there were no taboos. Everything could be discussed - and would be, from Howard's obsession with anal sex, prostitutes, strippers, lesbians, and bodily functions - to the childhood molestation of his co-host and sidekick Robin Quivers. The show wasn't simply a parade of sexual perversion and damaged behaviour, though - it was also uproariously funny. Stern was like an incendiary performance artist, hell-bent on provoking his listeners, and his guests, with his brutally honest questioning. He would demand to know the most intimate details of the sex lives of the famous - from their partners, to their fetishes - and his prey would often be stripped of the armour of celebrity that buffered them from the real world, and would be left naked and exposed - usually revealing the vapidity and self-indulgence of fame.

On February the 26th, 2004 - Clear Channel Radio suspended 'The Howard Stern Radio Show' from its syndicated network, citing an FCC violation during a call-in segment in which a listener used the word 'nigger'. During the segment, an interview with Rick Solomon - the star of the infamous Paris Hilton video, featuring the heiress engaged in a number of sex acts with Solomon - the subject of conversation turned to anal sex and penis size. The call in listener then asked Solomon if he'd had sex with any famous black women - using the word 'nigger', before being cut off by Stern. This, according to Clear Channel CEO John Hogan, presented Clear Channel with an opportunity to "(draw) a line in the sand today with regard to protecting our listeners from indecent content." Hogan also told the press that the show was "vulgar, offensive and insulting, not just to women and African-Americans but to anyone with a sense of common decency."

Fuck you.

I probably shouldn't care. Stern's show is largely inaccessible to anyone outside of the U.S, due to his reticense to embrace internet broadcasting - and so, for years I have made do with crackly samples of other people's favourite pieces of material. My introduction to Stern was his 1997 film 'Private Parts' - a fairly glib, soft-focus biopic on the man's career apotheosis, climaxing with his acceptance at New York's WNBC, his domination over both his radio rivals and his unsupportive administrative staff, and his self-declaration as 'The King Of All Media'. These were interesting times for me. I was beginning to evolve - slowly - from my traditional mistrust of any contemporary media, and I was starting to embrace the joys of living in the now. The idea that something was representative of MY time was very new and fresh to me in 1998 - I had, after all, spent the better part of the last 20 years absorbing material from the 1960's and 1970's, and to suddenly realise that art could, in addition to unlocking the experiences of dead time - could also be used to sandblast the dust and grime from the present in order us to see it with greater clarity and focus. And, as I started sailing the seas of contemporary media, one of my first ports of call was the Stern show.

It seemed so new at the time. So fresh, and vibrant - and, at the same time, so dangerous. Here was a man who posessed a tongue so savage and brutal that it could lash out and cut people to ribbons without a moment's notice - but at the same time, was so gentle at times, and while his self-deprecation may have been part of his schtick, the pain beneath it was obviously very real. Stern spoke from the heart, as well as from the brain and penis, and it seemed that the words were wrapped in that strangely nasal baritone, they were speaking the truth.

Stern's show also presented a kind of postmodern incarnation of the nuclear family. Here was a father (Howard), a mother (Robin), and their children - Stuttering John, Boy Gary, Jackie Martling, Billy West, and the rest of the show's regular cast. The one thing that struck me as ironic as charges of racism are levelled at Stern are that if we are to assume that the show presents a family - it is an interracial family. Robin Quivers is a black woman - and her colour is never an issue. She is what she is. Just as Howard is. Call Stern many things - tasteless, abusive, and pandering to lowest common denominator tastes - but racist he is not.

It is ironic that Stern's dumping from Clear Channel comes at a time when he has changed his tune on the issue of the Bush presidency - revoking his initial support for the Idiot Manchild, and focusing his energies on mocking Bush's economic and military policies, running the 'leader of the free world' down, via a market which touches the entire population of the United States. When Howard faced the press, for the first time in his career, the bravado seemed to have finally dried up. Gone was the overwhelmingly self-confident man of the mid-1990's, who took on the FCC and won, and seemed capable of cutting through the layers and layers of stinking bullshit that clogged and continue to clog the mass media - and would say what he believed, whenever he liked. He may have been an insulting, toilet-mouthed verbal pornographer - but there was always the possibility that, as he always swore in his defense, he was simply SAYING things that were too painful, embarassing, or primal to be said. And not only was he doing that - he was doing it over the airwaves of the United States, a country that consumes media with an almost frenzied abandon.

The Stern show has been castrated - and Stern is now a toothless dragon, unable to move without being monitored by the facists at the FCC, which has presented a sickening display of nepotism in the appointment of Michael Powell, son of Colin 'Me Lai' Powell, the architect of the Iraq war, part time James Earl Jones impersonator, and all-round All-American guy. The Stern show has been branded 'indecent' for doing exactly the same thing it has been doing for the last twenty years. When did Stern NOT obsess over his bowel movements, the breast implants of strippers, and the burgeoning idea of interracial coupling as represented in the mainstream media? When did he ever soften his touch? The show is what the show always was - a freewheeling, anarchic mess of ideas and honesty, which veers into blue humour when that is the subject. It is in no way 'pornographic'. If you want to see something pornographic, go and catch yourself some Shock And Awe on CNN, and as you watch the pretty lights, think about the people who are disintegrating beneath them.

The easy way to combat the idea that Stern should be banned due to indecency is to ressurect the age-old defense of 'If you don't like it, turn it off!'. Although that is a cliche that is completely true, I'm not going to use that to support my pro-Stern stance. Instead, I have a few examples of material that were broadcast on 'The Howard Stern Radio Show' that may just make you think about the price of free speech, and just how useful it can be.

Remember 9/11? Sure you do. 'The Day When Everything Changed', screamed CNN and NBC and the Murdoch Empire. In order to pay tribute to the 'heroes' of 9/11, endless loops of people leaping from burning buildings were intercut with footage of those doomed planes bisecting the phallic towers of American imperialism, resulting in the definitive image of the early part of this century. Maybe we won't ever get over the carnage of the WTC - and not because it was anything out of the ordinary. People die in horrific, inhuman ways every day - across all corners of the globe. They don't always die, however, in America, on television, in a media event the likes of which we probably won't see again, short of a suitcase nuke being set off beneath the Hollywood sign. And for all the talk of the 'horror' of that fateful day, the only piece of broadcast media that I felt connected to on any emotional level was the Stern show. September 11th 2001 was just another day for Stern and his crew - the show had been going for an hour or two and the usual cacophony of blue humour and cutting remarks about contemporary American life had been crackling across the airwaves. Then, reports began flooding into the studio about a catastrophe downtown. The World Trade Center had been attacked. Was it an accident? Could anyone seriously have the balls big enough to attack America on American soil? The Stern show began to writhe with panic and terror as the cast watched the horror of the day unfolding before them from the station windows, and - as with all other material coming from Stern - they didn't hold back. They expressed their mind-shattering panic and terror at the thought of their city being turned into chaos, ravaged by an unseen foe, with the inhabitants - the New Yorkers who made up their listening audience, and were more friends than anything - being murdered en masse. As CNN's carefully constructed soap-opera unfolded across the televisions of the world, presenting the attacks on the WTC as an incredibily dramatic narrative - not unlike an episode of 24 or Buffy - Stern's panic and fear-induced paralysis conveyed more truth and insight into the events of that day than any hour of people falling from buildings and bulbous fireballs erupting from towers ever could.

He's a funny guy. That much is a given. But even I can admit that sometimes, he crosses the line. Especially when he's dealing with members of the public who are neither as witty, nor as intelligent as he is. One morning, a naiive young lady called the Stern show, and almost immediately launched into a barrage of fan-worship, exaulting her love for Howard and his crew with an almost manic zeal. Howard seized on this opportunity to make her call a comedy bit - and he proceeded to sell her the Brooklyn Bridge. She bought it.

Then she called back.

Howard admitted that he had fooled her - and almost admitted that he thought she was a complete imbecile. He decided to give her a short test to ascertain her intelligence - and she had trouble with most of the questions. Then, she burst into tears - telling Howard that she loved him, and her husband loved him, and she just wanted to be their friend. Howard realises that he has been cruel - and it is an amazing thing to hear the voice of The Beast evaporate - as he proceeds to promise her a trip to New York for her and her husband, in which she could come into the studio and meet the stars of the show. Amusingly, he also promises her a watch which he will rub on his genitals.

Childish? Sure. Cruel? Maybe. The point is, by-now-bored-reader, that at the same time as Howard allows himself to run amok as a bile-spewing radio demon, he is also capable of extreme kindness. To hear him softly talking to the girl he has upset is to hear the sound of a complex, difficult man, who seems constantly at war within himself. He is three-dimensional - a real human being, who just happens to be on the radio. And at that moment, on that particular broadcast, he showed the kind of gentleness and sweetness that is all but barren from our mainstream media. Can you imagine someone like Neil Mitchell in Melbourne caring about whether he upset a listener? Sometimes, humanity can be found in the strangest places.

The bravest piece of radio I have ever heard involved a caller to the Stern show. His name was Daniel, and he was calling to tell Howard that he was a rapist. He had raped women, and continued to do so. Robin sounds upset - and unsure of whether they should let the airwaves serve as a forum for this sick individual's undoubtedly twisted worldview. But Howard keeps him on the line. And, instead of attempting to find humour in this eerie situation, he did something that I have never heard a broadcaster do in my entire life. He talked to Daniel The Rapist. He was calm. He wasn't rude. He wasn't impolite - and he wasn't accusatory. Instead, he wanted to know exactly how a rape happened - and he wanted to know how a rape could be avoided. He asked Daniel to tell the listeners what he looks for in a rape victim, how he chooses his women, and how the women can protect themselves. What could they do if they were cornered? How could they escape? Stern didn't flinch, and he let Daniel tell his disturbing, violent stories. Then, as quickly as he'd appeared, he disconnected. Stern had alerted the police during their discussion - and, in the aftermath, he seemed genuinely upset by the experience. But it had to be done. As he told both Robin and the listening audience - he has daughters of his own, and if broadcasting that information over the airwaves saved one girl from the indignity, and soul-destroying madness of a rape, then it was worth it.

Stern now spends his time flailing against the FCC, accusing Bush of tampering with the minds of the American people, and indulging in gloomy tirades on his own impending doom as a broadcaster. It's a sad state of affairs for one of the most complex - and certainly most misunderstood media personalities in American history. Maybe Stern is just a pornographer, peddling to the lowest common denominator in his obsessions with sapphic love, breast augmentation, and celebrity sex scandals. But, maybe, when you cut to the heart of what Stern is really about - he is simply a nodal point upon which the unspoken thoughts, feelings, and emotions of the American people can find a voice. A voice which is unafraid to say what it shouldn't. And a voice which allows itself to be as damaged, scared, tortured, complicated, angry, and contradictory as that of its owner.

Can you say the same thing about yourself?

Posted by David at March 30, 2004 10:00 PM | TrackBack