For the Sake of Art

If you have been in a coma for the past week, you won't have heard about Chris Brown's new tattoo. As much as it pains me to say this, the event took the top story position on Twitter and many news websites, as opposed to Andy Murray's historic US Open win, the publication of a list of nearly-extinct animals and the eleventh anniversary of the terrorist attacks on the World Trade Centre and the Pentagon that took the lives of 2,996 men and women. On 11^th September 2012, Chris Brown's neck tattoo took priority over conservation, victory and death. Choose to either remember or forget that fact.

His tattoo depicts a woman's face, complete with lacerations and bruising. Many have called his tattoo disgusting, as it has a staggering resemblance to the face of Brown's ex-girlfriend, Rihanna, after he assaulted her in 2009. The discussion of his new addition became so prevalent and extreme that Brown took to Twitter, describing it as 'art', and that it represents his extension of him being an 'artist'. As much as I loathe the word 'artist' being used to describe anyone other than a person who draws and paints, he is a person who creates music and we must respect his creative rights. But when it is bad art, how much longer can we suspend our belief that he isn't just doing it for attention?

Last week, at the VMAs, Rihanna, pop chart behemoth, kissed Brown after receiving an award for the video 'We Found Love'. It wasn't a show-stopping Hollywood performance of a kiss, and it certainly didn't make anyone jealous or pine for a loved one. It was dry, false, and hungry for chaos. Chris Brown is currently dating model Karrueche Tran and so it was nothing but a friendly peck. But this kiss stood for something. This kiss was a closure, the end of a chapter. This kiss was the greeting of two friends. This was an act of redemption. People were naturally outraged. Most people are outraged at most things, but this was going two steps further. This was extrapolating their specific action to the world's positions.

If it was your best friend that was kissing the ex-boyfriend who threw her down a flight of stairs, you would be raging. You would be straining your drink through your teeth and hating every frame you saw of it. If it was your little sister that had gone on record to say that her and her abusive boyfriend were still 'very close', you would be currently locking her in her bedroom with a hexed padlock. But the chances of Rihanna being your best friend or your little sister are very slim. Rihanna is a superstar, who has not been out of the public eye since 2005. Rihanna is one of the most recognised women in the world. She is unequivocal. She is an anomaly. This is why I think it is ridiculous to see her as a role model.

No one gets into anything to become a role model. That is a very silly thing to imagine. I want to be a writer because I have no other skills, not because I want to inspire young people into being something more than what they are capable of. Rihanna is not getting off with her abusive ex-boyfriend because she wants her fans to be as submissive as she is letting herself be. She's doing it because she is an individual human being and she is in control of her own mind and body. She does not have to be a role model because it is not in her contract. People are asking it of her, but she does not have to be what they ask of her. However as much as I have iterated that she is a unique person, she is also no different than any of the other victims of domestic violence in the world.

Rihanna is exactly the same as the woman next door who is being sporadically slapped about by her husband. She is akin to the guy who sits in front of you at work, whose girlfriend is punching him in the face every time he doesn't get the right brand of deodorant. Chris Brown is the drug addict in the next street that beats his dependent girlfriend up when she uses the last of his heroin. They are no better and no worse. The only difference is that when Chris Brown beats up a woman, he does it behind the tinted windows of an SUV.

Domestic violence is not unheard of. It is estimated that someone is a victim of domestic violence every 20 seconds in the UK. It is just a sad statistic that happens to occur during all walks of life. But the problem in this case is that we are glorifying Brown's actions to the point of legend. We are mentioning his name like he is the creator of an outlandish school prank, a Sisyphus of the modern age - bending the rules and making the public marvel at his accomplishments. If we ignored him, the facts would still stand that he beat up his girlfriend and left her for dead. But if we stopped speaking about him, if we stopped calling him 'Breezy', maybe his actions would be seen as a crime instead of an achievement.

Brown also won an award at the VMAs, for Best Male Video. MTV awarded a man who assaulted a woman and actively calls people 'haters' who criticise him for it. The global franchise that is synonymous with one of the few mediums that actively promotes peace, equality and love is giving a publicly convicted abuser a trophy for a music video. He has a tattoo of domestic violence on his fucking neck. This is not what justice looks like. This is not retribution. This could be white guilt on our parts. It could be an extension of our own desires in wanting to be seen ourselves as 'breezy', laid-back individuals who don't take things seriously. But if it has now come to the place in history where it is hip to ignore the assault of a young woman, I will happily tattoo 'NERD' across my neck in block capital letters. I shall not sit by and watch this shit fly.