I�ve tried to take some time to let my thoughts marinate and settle on the death of Osama Bin Laden. I�m not quite sure I�ve done that yet. I, like many Americans, remember almost to the minute what I was doing on September 11, 2001. I was a senior in high school in trigonometry class (don�t believe the hype � sexy name, ugly struggle). I saw the 2nd plane crash live. And I remember the panic of wondering where my mother was � she happened to be in D.C. on business that day.

Then there was the beyond ugly 9/11 immediate aftermath where a classmate Allan (name changed for privacy) was viciously beaten and his bones broken because he was of middle eastern descent. The fear and anger that seethed through America�s open wounds at that time festered then and fester now.

Osama Bin Laden, Family Guy style
With Bin Laden�s death I can�t help but think about the implications his memory conjures about 21st century Americanness and the Other. He, if not any other figure besides Obama, has framed this most recent manifestation of how America perceives itself. More specifically, I�d argue Bin Laden�s memory is Janus-faced, both feared and commodified in Post 9/11 American public and popular culture. One face is feared and hated. The other is softened by cartoon-esque violence and parody that sucks out the poison and vileness that Bin Laden represents on American soil. Both (re)presentations, however, influence and bleed into each other. If Bin Laden wasn�t regarded as the ultimate antagonist, the mockery and jokes that cater to his image would not and could not be sustained.


A recent episode of South Park, for example, aired a plot that depicted Al-Qaeda and Bin Laden using planes to bomb an �infestation� of people from New Jersey to the fictional town of South Park, Colorado.  A desperate final attempt to rid South Park of the Jersey intruders (a serious roast of the popular reality television show Jersey Shore), South Park sends a recorded message to Bin Laden begging for his help. The obvious joke subverted what �neo-colonization� or the antithesis of America�s immigration problems looks like.  A more striking and certainly complicated punch line is questioning if enough time has passed to joke about Bin Laden and Al-Qaeda to the extent South Park producers decided to include the celebration of crashing planes by Americans.  There are also moments of historical relevance, including Bin Laden�s training and ties to the United States pre-9/11.   The end of the episode pulled whatever shred of patriotism was left, assassinating Bin Laden as he accepted the town�s thanks (which, eerily, is strikingly similar to reports of his reported death).  

Other shows like Family Guy went straight for the jugular.  One episode opens with Bin Laden doing a recorded feed from a cave �somewhere in the desert.�  The seriousness of the event taking place was lightened by Bin Laden�s lighthearted banter between himself and the cameraman.  There were numerous �takes� because Bin Laden kept laughing and stuttering through his lines. The laughter and jokes attempt to portray Bin Laden�s humanity and not a vicious and cruel mass murderer. This Bin Laden characterization too is defeated by Americans in the form of Stewie, the baby character of Family Guy�s Griffin family. 

The death of Osama Bin Laden ushers in another shift in social-political memory and consciousness.  Interpretation and the definition of Americanness has changed because the standard that influenced and framed its present meaning is now deceased. What will America look like post-Bin Laden?  Part of this question will play out in the tinkering of Bin Laden�s character in popular culture and the impact of his figure on this most recent generation.

Bluntly, who are we going to call the boogeyman now?