Roll tape and it looks like this: The guy was heckling Michael Richards, who was mad and so says the worst thing he could think of to insult the heckler and put him in his place. He didn’t say the most shocking thing, which is how he played it. Shocking, yes, except not the word but how he used it, what it meant to him. There was no irony. No affection. No “comic” set up. No follow up. Nothing that had been thought out or rehearsed or based on an entertainer’s familiarity with the topic, a la Chris Rock and so many other American comedians. No. The man was just lashing out at a black guy he didn’t like by calling him a nigger. The heckler, ironically, acted by comparison with clear-headed decorum and restraint, simply stating the obvious: “That was uncalled for.” What better response? Talk about timing and a familiarity with the topic. How true— not in any Laugh Factory, no street corner, no smoking back room, no Klan headquarters. Just completely uncalled for. God knows it wasn’t funny, not insightful, not witty or informative in any way except in a human way, a weak and failing way, where Michael Richards compounds the sadness of his dissipated entertainer act by exposing his inner racist. Then appears on Letterman last night a shattered wreck.

What does racism look like? It’s angry wackos lashing out at people for the color of their skin and then covering for themselves. It looks like Richards at the Laugh Factory and on a million YouTubing computer screens around the world.