By Mary Dang
Daily Bruin Contributor
Between giving the finger to the Bush administration and
promoting his new book, “Stupid White Men “¦ and Other
Sorry Excuses for the State of the Nation,” Michael Moore is
one busy guy. However, he did find some time to swing by
UCLA’s Ackerman Grand Ballroom last Friday afternoon for a
quick book-signing.
As a social critic, Moore is best known for his documentary
“Roger & Me,” which covers the effects of a General
Motors layoff in his hometown of Flint, Mich. He also produced,
directed and wrote the television series “The Awful
Truth” for the Bravo channel, and wrote another bestselling
book “Downsize This!: A Threat from an Unarmed
American.”
Moore produced more of the same material for his new book. He
asserted his theory that George W. Bush might be a felon and
demonstrated how “Kill Whitey” is an acceptable
concept.
As Moore rushed onto the Grand Ballroom stage, the celebrity
aura quickly vanished as his average guy image emerged. While he
hemmed and hawed for a couple of minutes, brown tufts of hair stuck
out of his green baseball cap with a white “S.” He
shrugged uncomfortably in his black wrinkly sports coat and blue
T-shirt. However, any signs of discomfort disappeared as he began
to talk. Hanging on every word, the crowd seemed to be listening to
a scary story at a campfire rather than a speech by a political
satirist.
The content and wit of his words can reach the snobbiest of
intellectuals but his homespun delivery and straight talk allow
laymen to appreciate it as well. With his colloquialisms, Moore
sounded like a college buddy telling a crazed
“I-was-sooooo-drunk” story outside of a 7-11 store.
With his animated tone, Moore’s words captivated the audience
no matter what topic he discussed, be it the miraculous publication
of “Stupid White Men” or bin Laden’s severe
bladder problem.
“The mastermind of all evil … doesn’t have a pot
to piss in ““ now he can’t piss in a pot,” he
said.
With the crowd in good humor, Moore cited himself as proof that
small changes matter.
“I’m one of the original slackers. It may look like
I’m busy a lot but a good day for me is seven hours sitting
in front of the TV set,” he said.
One of his funny anecdotes about making changes was how, at the
age of 18, he became a school board member through 20 signatures.
There was also a story of how he put congressional investigators on
the Elks Club’s tail for discriminatory procedures all for
the sake of some Ruffles potato chips.
As Moore prophetically raised his hands, he addressed anyone
from the “slacker nation” to use their slack power and
half-ass their way into helping America.
“I learned a lesson as a kid very early on that you can do
a lot by doing very little,” he said.
Moore’s vibe leant itself to uplifting the mood, but
without all the dazzle of movie stardom. Instead, he tried to
spread hope that real life issues are solvable. He addressed the
apathetic attitudes of many Americans, especially young ones,
toward what seem like insurmountable problems.
“You don’t have to join political
organizations,” Moore said. “You don’t have to go
to four hour meetings. You don’t have to learn all the PC
language. You can do something just on your own. You can think of
things, simple things that can create such a havoc, that can throw
such a monkey wrench into the system, that can create such a ruckus
to where it might lead to doing some good, making this campus a
better campus, making this city a better city, and making this
country a better country.”