TO: George Felix Allen, Jr.
FR: Skeptical Brotha
RE: Your obvious and unapologetic racism
I’ve got a bright idea George. How about you hold a press conference to address the allegations of your obvious and unapologetic racism surrounded by colored folks? What do you say? I am sure there is a plethora of right-wing Negroes willing and able to prostitute themselves once again to benefit a racist of your presidential stature.
Whom should you invite, you say? Well, for starters, I think you should invite some of those crackheads that endorsed Michael Steele last week. You know, for authenticity. Then you could send out a desperate S.O.S. to some of the black fools who’ve worked for you: Kay Coles James and the President’s personal shoplifter, Claude Allen. Claude who, you say? You know, he was Bush’s domestic policy advisor and the homophobic wingnut you tried to appoint to the Fourth Circuit Court of Appeals. I am sure they can vouch for you in the most unbelievable fashion possible.
We cannot forget to invite the homegrown fools: Hampton University President Dr. William R. Harvey and State Senator Bennie Lambert. They’ve already embarrassed themselves before God and man by endorsing you already. Speaking of embarrassing Negroes, we cannot forget to invite Dr. Walter Williams, the hateful black conservative Economics professor atGeorge Mason University. There is a treasure trove of self-loathing Negro academics out there to choose from. You can extend invitations to Affirmative Action opponents Thomas Sowell, former Ambassador Allen Keyes, Shelby Steele, and last but not least, John McWhorter.
We should probably add some of the black battering rams against Affirmative Action you’ve voted to give federal appointments to. People like those Bush appointed to the U.S. Commission on Civil Rights: Peter Kirsanow and Gerald Reynolds, and Ashley Taylor, They’ve done an excellent job of doing nothing. You should also invite Ralph Boyd, the former assistant Attorney General for Civil Rights who helped gut proper enforcement of the Voting Rights Act.
Oh, my Lord. I almost forgot the religious right. We cannot forget them. We must not forget to invite that detestable slave girl on Pat Robertson’s plantation. She is the perfect one to inject a note of false religiosity. Preachers, you say? Yes, absolutely. You can invite that malevolent handkerchief head, Bishop Harry Jackson. He’s the guy that is so worried about same-sex marriage to the exclusion of damn near everything else that ails the black community. To the mix, we cannot forget to add Dr. Martin Luther King’s confused niece, Alveda King. She’s been bastardizing the dream for some time now.
If any of these people won’t accept your invitation you can always threaten to get President Bush to declare them enemy combatants and lock them up at Guantanamo.
Venue, you say? I think one of those black colleges you’ve helped so damn much by voting to cut $12 billion in student loans funds. Another perfect venue would be a plantation, near the slave quarters. That would definitely set the right tone.
The press conference should begin with y’all marching smartly to the dias with the group dressed in period slave attire and wearing blackface. After an ungrammatical opening prayer by Pat Robertson’s slave girl and a Negro spiritual warbled by Kay Coles James, preferably “nobody knows the troubles I’ve seen”, you can announce the formation of “Minstrels for George Allen,” to be chaired by the President’s personal shoplifter, Claude Allen and co-chaired by your number one Democratic sycophant, State Senator Bennie Lambert.
After another negro spiritual, you can begin the testimonials of praise. The minstrels can then sing the praises of good ole’ “Mr. George” and how good you are to the nigras. After a buckdance by Walter Williams and John McWhorter, you can begin your prepared statement disavowing any harmful intent by using the N-Word.
A surprise special guest, Harvard Law Professor Randall Kennedy can be brought to the podium to explain how inoffensive and common place the N-word really is. Then comes the real business at hand, the game of distraction. Alan Keyes, Harry Jackson, and Thomas Sewell can all give rambling discourses on the evils of same-sex marriage and the black family. They can reiterate your persistent opposition to the gay agenda and end their rambling talk with another word of ungrammatical prayer for you, “the man of God.”
The press conference can close with an upbeat musical number “carry me back to old virginny.”
Carry me back to old Virginny,
There’s where the cotton and the corn and tatoes grow,
There’s where the birds warble sweet in the springtime,
There’s where the old darke’ys heart am long’d to go,
There’s where I labored so hard for old massa,
Day after day in the field of yellow corn,
No place on earth do I love more sincerely
Than old Virginny, the state where I was born.
Whatever you do, for God sake, don’t take any questions from the assembled media.