To honor my suggestion to Mssrs. Foster and Lombardi, I will change the subject. Besides, people get the leaders they deserve, and that goes double for the Hill. Eternal vigilance to ones self interest always ends badly. It's always easier to fool those who fool others for a living. They think they're the only ones who are playing the game. Roll the Maloumian-Capoferri video for instructional purposes here. Greg Welsh should watch the tape very closely.
So, as it turns out, the election of a black man to the presidency seems to have incited a race war, hasn't it? NOT what we expected. Remember when ecstatic black people were interviewed in the streets on election night? So many said, " I still can't believe it!-It still hasn't sunk in yet!"
It didn't sink in for some others until much later. They REALLY couldn't believe it . They still seem to have a hard time believing it. Mind you, most of this latter group doesn't know how a toaster works either, but that hasn't stopped them from being experts on health care, or birth certificates, or the history of black racism in America.
But when the idea of who was elected finally got through their Miracle Whip and Budweiser soaked thick skulls, they blinked their eyes and said what the citizens of Rock Ridge said when Sheriff Bart came to town.
Except they can't say it out loud. For what they want to say, what they want to call President Barry is forbidden to them. They can taste the word. They can feel the hard "double G" consonants between their tongue and the top of their mouth, the gutteral "R" at the end that literally turns the last half of the word into a growl. White people always like to pronounce the "R" sound in that word. The white Southerners just put it in front of their self invented "a" sound at the end. The word is stuck in their craw like Barry is stuck in their House.
It's the most important word in our culture today and they can't say it. It's the word that hangs in the air, like Ezekiel's Wheel. It's the word freighted with such importance that its very use is accorded to certain groups and forbidden to others, like a rare commodity rationed in times of national duress.
It's a word that has it's own official euphemism, one that takes its name from the first letter of the word itself. I refuse to use that euphemism, for the same reason I do not use the official term used to describe the Nazi Death Camps. Because facts are facts. As a kid , I knew some with the tattoos of the numbers, and they always just said, "the camps." The camps. The imagery was stark, not poetic. When PR types start to give official terms after those events have happened, it portends the marketing of those events. It signals the packaging of those events for the benefit of those who have named them. And sometimes packaging causes trouble. Any country that had two groups, one who called themselves the chosen people, and one who called themselves the master race, well, you knew there was gonna be trouble. Now the Israel Pac uses the word it helped invent to finance its own racial expansion.
Another example. As I watched the first tower smoke, and as I watched the plane hit the second tower, I counted down. I told my daughter, "Now it is real. Now we are all witnesses. As soon as they name it, the conjecture, the fill, the spin, the lies will begin." And when "America Under Attack" came up under the pictures, I knew that the marketing had begun. Some marketed that event to their own news show, others to their own war, others to their own fortune.
So I don't use official euphemisms. But some people are allowed to use the word itself. Yes, it turns out that black people are given some rights in America that white people do not have. They have explicit permission to use that word to describe each other. They also have permission to describe black females as bodies for hire or as animals. How thoughtful of white America to have accorded the special privilege of demeaning yourselves to all of you. You owe thanks. And to those who make millions on the unending, repeated imagery of the killing of black men and the demeaning of black women, I think I can speak for the whites who once owned you. Thanks for doing our work for us. And if doing the massa's work for him isn't the definition of an Uncle Tom, I don't know what is. So I just called all the gangsta rappers Uncle Toms. That makes Len Lear and Rush Limbaugh seem like a couple of Pussies, doesn't it?
I would here illustrate the time line between rap music's beginnings, when it sprung out of black nationalism, the forceful and proper responses to police brutality, followed by senate investigations, followed by industry pressure, followed immediately by a change in the direction of the bullets mentioned by rappers from their real oppressors to their brothers, followed by no more senate investigations or industry pressure, but it's been done already and anyway, I just said it.
The difference here is that rappers use their anti-black imagery to make money, and most whites just use it to "get off'. Except for Rush. He has that in common with fifty cent.
But to the whites who can't use the word it must be hell. They need to use that word. Not being able to use it is driving them crazy. Not figuratively crazy, but literally, demonstrably crazy. That's why Rush, who, without question, gets fan letters from members of the Aryan Nation, is calling the president a Nazi. People who celebrate Hitlers birthay, and who wear brown shirt uniforms and march around their shit kicker compounds, who do they listen to? It ain't Rachel Maddow.
And that's why they want to see the certificate. They don't really want to see it. What they want is for a black man to have to "come to them" and give them something that they have asked for. It's the ACT they want, not the item. Perhaps the certificate could be on a little silver tray, accompanied by a glass and a pitcher of iced tea. And the president could wear a uniform and have white hair. The proper response to anyone with such a request would rightfully be, "And just who the fuck are you?"
And now the town hall disruptions. What kind of a person disrupts meetings? Hey wait a minute, you thought I was gonna trap myself! But my little boy's dream is for me to find out that Bill McGuckin, who was so offended by my manners that he almost had a heart attack right in the OP-Ed section of the
Local, is being bussed to one of these events by Dick Armey. Then I can show up and beat the livin' shit out of him. Better stay home, Bill. I can guess whose side you're on. Isn't your business tied to Papa Med-Pharma?
I think we should let this trash say the word. It may calm them down. I often say it over and over as I listen to Fox News. Like Tourettes. It drowns them out and it conveys their real meaning so much better. Try it. A charming personal reminiscence. I used to get to say it a lot, with love, when I shared an apartment with three black guys. We all were in the same situation, all living the high life and having sex with black and white women who we NEVER called any bad names EVER. Why would you ever want to call any woman a bad name who you got to fuck, weren't married to, and who had girlfriends with the same attributes? I respect the shit out women like that. Still do.
Did I leave anyone out? See, I never even mentioned Richard. Anonymous, I'm ready for your comment now. Bitch.
Little Eddie Feldman
Labels: Chestnut Hill, Chestnut Hill Local, Feldman, The Economy
