The Lion Killer

(Darrin Bell)

(Tayo Fatunla)

There are two ways of looking at obituary cartoons:

1. They are a necessary marker of the public consciousness and it is
incumbent upon cartoonists to say something at such moments.

2. They are a wretched, cliche-filled, lazy excuse to take
a day off from responsible commentary.

If you contemplate the life of one of the most quoted men in the world and all you come up with is "Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee," please don't pretend you are following #1.

Not everything he said was wise. Not everything anybody says is wise. But if all you know is "Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee," you don't know enough about the man to bother "honoring" him.

The flood of Butterfly/Bee tributes is, I suppose, a commentary on how little impact a complex man, no matter how famous, can really have in this world.

That Darrin Bell and Tayo Fatunla knew enough, or cared enough, to go beyond the obvious suggests perhaps they were genuinely touched by his life.

For the rest?

Butterfly. Bee. Grab your fishing pole and take the rest of the day off.

Ali was more than an easy slogan that said nothing about his life, nothing about his impact outside the ring.

Fatunla captures the brashness with which he demanded the world's attention; Bell recalls the generous spirit that lay beneath.

There was a lot of talk about Ali on ESPN Radio yesterday. Someone asked if there was any athlete as well known in the world. Someone else suggested Pele, but they quickly agreed that, while Pele is well-known and greatly loved, he's only known as an athlete in his own sport and even Pele does not have the standing of Muhammed Ali.

But they said something else, which is that, because Ali spent the last three decades of his life in the shadows of Parkinson's, people 40 and under have virtually no memory of the dynamic Ali who shook the world, and what they know of him, they learned rather than experienced.

They didn't know him when he was hated for being so brash, when he was despised for becoming a Muslim, when he was mocked for refusing the draft, when he was exiled in his own country but never forgotten by those who nursed the same spark, who knew and who believed that things weren't right and weren't fair.

Today he is mourned and loved, perhaps because nobody remembers when he was persecuted and hated.

Well, some remember. 

I flew into Louisville about a dozen years ago to address a publishers' convention, and the cab ride from the airport to my hotel took me past the Ohio River.

"So that's where he threw his medal," I said.

"That's where," the black cabbie agreed.

I never said who, or what medal. 

And neither one of us said a god damned thing about butterflies or bees.

So here's something: 

Did you ever notice that, while black music often draws upon the Bible, there are only a limited number of Biblical figures who keep coming up again and again and again in those songs?

One is Moses, who did not, himself, get to the Promised Land to which he had led his people.

Another is Samson, who, though betrayed, blinded, chained and humiliated by his enemies, yet was given vengeance by his God at the end:

 

"... and the bees made honey in the dead lion's head"

 

Comments

[Kurt]

If I was going to do a tribute cartoon, I would spell-check the subject's name, twice.

[Karsten]

Thanks for posting the Darrin Bell Cartoon. Actually made my eyes water.