John Vlismas is Once Again The Good Racist
With Revelations II
Posted: Feb 05 2017
After the success of The Good Racist in 2016, John Vlismas is back with his encore; Revelations 2: The Good Racist.
He'll be on for only two nights at The Lyric Theatre, Montecasino on 10 and 11 March.
If you missed the sold out 2016 edition, below is an excerpt of the review we did following the show:
At John Vlismas’ ‘comedy’ show, I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. The show was basically a tactic in which to get about 2500 unsuspecting white people into a theatre and explain white privilege to them for a cost of R150 a head. It was fucking brilliant.At least it was fucking brilliant until I realised that the people whose laughter roared at certain points were not laughing in acknowledgement of the truth and horror of what our white condition means in other people's lives, they were laughing at the generalised racist ‘humour’ Vlismas was using in an attempt to make his point.
They were laughing at every coloured impression and referral to a faceless domestic worker named ‘Florence’. They laughed, deeply and from their bellies at the same ‘jokes’ that white people have told at braais and white children have learnt to laugh at for so many years.And then they stopped laughing when Vlismas said something along the lines of, “And stop fucking telling the lady who’s bagging your groceries to smile, or questioning why she doesn’t seem thrilled to be doing her job. How do you think she feels bagging groceries for you that she can’t afford to give her family?”Exit the theatre. Swarmed by my fellow whites I made a point to listen closely, the brazen eavesdropper smoking her cigarette and mentally logging people’s words, as writers do, only to hear, “but bro, I thought it would be funnier” and “I don’t know. I think the whole thing was a bit too serious, especially what he said about the grocery lady,” and the white sentiment that overrides them all, “It just wasn’t what I expected.”How roomy and glorious it is to be white. That when we utter the words, “not what I expected” we mean something was less pleasant than anticipated, instead of the other way around. We always expect the best because we’ve always been given the best.And so when a mischievous white man gathers us into a room, and turns us on with racist humour, and then fucks us when he drops what white people still manage to think is a ‘bomb’ (instead of a pervasive and roaring reality that underlies everyday of our lives) of white privilege on our heads, we’re super forlorn because, well, it wasn’t funny. The reality of the role we play in our society just doesn’t tickle us pink, and bro, it’s a bit too serious of a conversation to have.The mischievous white man who attempted to impart the lesson that I greatly suspect fell on mostly deaf ears, that the only thing white people in our country understand less than what it means to not be doused in privilege, is that a shift is necessary and inevitable. That our biggest ‘battles’ still involve glitter, and that a group of black high school students pack more of a punch than 2500 white people crowded into a theatre who are being spoonfed information.