May 30, 2002

Racial Profiling for Dummies. I suppose there's some folks out there living in cities that get positive coverage, but if, like me, you live in a place like Jersey City and you see your city's name on the cover of this month's GQ, it's a pretty safe bet that the article ain't going to be a travel feature. The article is "Misadventures of a Racial Profiler" by Walter Kirn (not available online), and details Kirn's trip to the city that "is to Islamic-fundamentalist violence as Dodge City was to cattle rustling." Kirn heads to the belly of the beast to interview Arab Muslims, and along the way paints a lovely picture of my current home:
Looking for a Muslim, any Muslim, I walk the streets. They're stupendously depressing. The center of Jersey City, whose whole economy seems to be based on the sale of discount phone cards used for twenty minutes of long distance to countries such as Tonga and Turkmenistan, reeks of disconnection and thwarted dreams.
Besides complaining about his "miserable visit," the recurring image of the article is Kirn's difficulty in finding or recognizing Muslims to talk to, a difficulty that creates huge doubts in his mind about the effectiveness of racial profiling.

It could be an interesting point, and might be far more persuasive if Kirn's attempts to find and talk to Muslims didn't make him look like a retarded monkey who had been living in the Black Hills before GQ gave him a plane ticket and an expense account. Some examples of Kirn's investigative technique:
In the V.I.P. Diner where Mohammed Atta ate, I venture leading remarks to patrons and waitresses. "Lots of Arabs around here?" Blank reactions.

If one abiding feature of Muslimhood remains in my brain after all this second-guessing, it's this: a proclivity for driving cabs.

[The owner of Boulevard Drinks] squints at me. "Why would you want to pick up Arabic?"
"I don't know. To read the holy Koran." [...] "Are you a Muslim?"
If Kirn's point is that racial profiling won't do any good if the practitioners are morons who seek information by randomly accosting strangers and hailing cabs, then I guess the point is made. And don't let the Pulaski Skyway hit your ass on the way out.


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