I’m mad as hell and I’m not going to take it anymore.
Why is the suffix “-gate” tacked onto the end of every scandal, semi-scandal and not-really-but-doesn’t-it-sound-good-as-a-scandal? Of course, its use originates from the Watergate scandal of 1972, in which President Richard Nixon was suspected of ordering the break-in of the Democratic National Committee headquarters at the Watergate office complex. But why bother using the suffix at all?
Here’s a brief list of other recent “scandals” that have since used the suffix:
• Bigotgate: British Prime Ministerial incumbent candidate Gordon Brown leaves a microphone on as he leaves a campaign stop, and is heard calling a voter a “bigoted woman.”
• Nipplegate: Pop singer Justin Timberlake rips open Janet Jackson’s brassiere to reveal her breast during a Super Bowl halftime show, causing DVRs everywhere to short out from consecutive replays.
• And who could forget the slipperiest scandal of them all, Greasegate, in which an MMA fighter’s coach was found to be illegally applying Vaseline to his skin between rounds?
When I look at this list of infractions, I realize the real crime is that somewhere in the media, some soulless husk of a human being received a paycheck for failing to be clever or original. What’s worse is that it seems nonevents become repackaged as scandals for the sake of creating easily-salable conflict.
The honesty and straightforwardness of the American dialect is taking its last breaths. It will soon be entirely usurped by the branding, superficiality and manufactured traditionalism – in other words, image is everything. Didn’t we learn anything from the Sprite ads, people?
The issue is unfortunately not limited to the realm of manufactured scandal.
Magazines like Esquire and Playboy were once known for publishing cutting-edge short fiction by emerging authors. Some of it was good, some of it was bad, but every published story was a fresh product with a fresh voice. Today, the appearance of short fiction is rare in either publication, and short fiction space is reserved for proven authors who made their start during those bygone days of relevance, or famous actors who want to show off their portfolio from the writing class they’re dabbling in. Whether it’s good or bad is a nonfactor, because it’s only there to construct an illusion that will allow the publications to coast for another year.
Perhaps most egregious is the misappropriation, over the last decade, of the idea of American Exceptionalism. At one time, for a long time, American Exceptionalism referred to the combination of factors – like the fact that we were a republic that used slave labor within the mainland – making us unique among nations.
Following World War II, as America became a manufacturing powerhouse and the country found itself in the grip of Cold War fear, “exceptionalism” began to be interpreted as a superiority among nations and that wasn’t an incorrect evaluation for the time.
Today though, the cart has managed to overtake the horse and “American Exceptionalism” transformed into a philosophy of circular logic: America is superior to other countries and we’re superior because we’re American, not because of any actual economic or political capital. Furthermore, attempts by the executive branch to gain said capital seem to be met with indignity, as if we should wield a power backed by image and reputation alone.
I say indignity, and not rage, because effective rage is something lacking from modern political conversation. Effective rage requires context and understanding, something our culture tries to divorce from the things we see because a society that says and does things without understanding the meaning is neutered.
Hence “-gate.” At one time, Watergate directly reference a specific grievous crime that occurred at a specific place. The “-gate” attached to any issue doesn’t just reference that earlier crime, it cheapens it. It brings a serious offense lower and lower until it’s on the same level as name-calling, greasy pecs and nipslippery.