Oh, what I won't do for a good laugh on the topic of race. There's rarely much to laugh about, of course. At Duke and N.C. Central, for example, race has become a sad and strained topic. Still, I'm convinced that humor can work as an antidote to what ails us.

Whenever the absurdity of racism is cleverly revealed, its harmful effects become diminished. Race-based humor has long relied on stereotypes and self-loathing -- from Stepin Fetchit to Martin Lawrence, comics of color have often skewed their own to win the approval of whites.

Fortunately, a few folks have always offered observations about race that are both silly and wrenching, hilarious and heartbreaking. In "Making Friends with Black People," comedian Nick Adams makes those of us who write so earnestly about race feel a little bit like fools. An alleged "handbook" for improving relations between blacks and whites, Adams borrows all the bloated conceits of a serious treatise on race and turns each one on its head.

Dividing the book into four sections -- Terminology, Interaction, Music & Culture and Politics & Society -- Adams raises a topic of serious concern, then knocks it down to size. The section on "terminology," for instance, sets itself up as an inquiry into urban slang, but really it's a riff on a single question: "If blacks folks can use the word as a term of endearment, can't their white friends and associates use it, too?"

Adams' answer is a resounding "No!" "I don't care how many black friends you have," he writes. "I don't care if you have your hair in cornrows while wearing a Phat Farm T-shirt at an R. Kelly concert. Just don't do it."

One of the strongest sections is "music and culture," which skewers white singers who appropriate a "black" style while performing (Justin Timberlake's use of Michael Jackson-like dance moves is, Adams says, "the biggest theft since the Florida elections in 2000.")

This faux "Dummy's Guide" to racial harmony also includes charts and illustrations, depicting in almost anthropological detail how to shake a black man's hand or how to enunciate certain slang terms.

Like most books by stand-up comics, "Making Friends" strikes me as largely a collection of nightclub routines. Adams, who hails from Eden, is, like Bill Cosby, a gifted raconteur. Although he often goes for the quick punchline, he's at his best when he simply tells a story and allows one keen observation after another to come together as a single, hilarious primer on racial mores.

On the subject of sexual stereotypes, for example, Adams dismisses the myth of black male endowment as "a legend on par with the Loch Ness Monster, Bigfoot, the Lost City of Atlantis, and George W. Bush's service in the National Guard."

An easy joke? Absolutely. But at a moment when so much of what passes for racial discourse is either violently inflammatory or willfully na•ve, a few easy jokes feel like a godsend.

Best of all, Adams is never (well, rarely) mean-spirited. There's not much "Isn't Whitey an Idiot" humor here, and, thankfully, there aren't many "black folks is crazy" jokes, either. For Adams, it's neither black folks nor white folks who are funny. Instead, it's the strange, spastic ballet that so often occurs when these two groups come face to face. "If we're going to learn to live together," he writes, "then obviously we have to spend time together. Quick: white readers, when was the last time you had a black person in your house? Oprah doesn't count."

Adams' "lessons" on cross-cultural communication are obviously a "schtick" -- a gimmick designed to attract attention -- and it's quite effective. By insisting, for example, that making friends across racial lines can be as easy as learning a dance step, Adams uses irony to highlight just how complex such friendships can really be. By adopting the old marketing tool of promising results "in an instant," he underscores our desire for a quick fix to an complex problem.

Next page >

Get $150+ in coupons in every Sunday N&O. Click here for convenient home delivery.