Repressing the Repressed

Posted at 1:29am on Feb. 19, 2008 Is You Is Or Is You Ain't My Constituency?

By haystack

The movie Oh Brother where Art Thou (which pits Pappy O'Daniel against Homer Stokes for Governor) gives an interesting backdrop for what the Democrats would have you believe about American culture and the upcoming election(s) in 2008. Afraid to actually assume responsibility for a racial divide originally concocted by Democrats to assuage minorities and convince them of some weird "imperative" that Democrats need to rule the US, we all should take a moment to recognize that it's the Left that wants you to believe the Right is the cause of all the ills the minorities in this country have been begged to suffer. Imagine, for just a moment, Barack Obama wearing the red cloak of the Klan's "Imperial Wizard" by night only to appear BY DAY to swear to represent the little people and insist on a change long overdue to all the citizens he presumes to represent. Head exploding yet? Then consider that piece of human waste, Frank Rich, asking you to believe as much about the GOP.

How exciting it must be for the Democrats these days; two minority candidates running for President of the United States of America. What must be especially pleasing to women and blacks in this country is the fact that neither of these presumed "Poster Children For Minorities Rising Above Their Stigma" candidates actually CARES to really fight for the causes of these minority demographics from whence they have arisen, satisfied in their presumption that their "peeps" will vote for them, "just because."

Cometh an Arts and Leisure expert who fancies himself some sort of expert in American Culture and its pretended affiliation with American Politics, to make sure we all understand that the GOP is "trapped in an archaic black-and-white newsreel," and "looks more like a nostalgic relic than a national political party in contemporary America."

According to this caricature of a thoughtful man, Frank Rich, the GOP apparently finds itself drowning in:

a cultural sea change [that] has passed it by.

I might otherwise have passed right on by this tripe, but Frank Rich ticked off the wrong guy by referring to me and my ilk as "The Grand Old White Party" and further begged my response by claiming some insightful expertise regarding race relations in America due to his having attended a then-segregated Woodrow Wilson High School in NW Washington DC, while living in the far-from-poor Cleveland Park neighborhood which is very close to the Zoo, and the National Cathedral, and a host of other big-name spots in "old DC". Rich also forgets to remind us that his Father was president of Rich's Shoe Stores down on F Street as he was growing up, and strikingly absent from Mr. Rich's race baiting trash was his reminiscence of his family's Shoe store having been burned to the ground during the riots that followed MLK's assassination in April of 1968. See, Mr. Rich was already off to Harvard when the death and destruction and all-out war between whites and blacks commenced, and I'm fairly certain the dinner table chatter at the Rich home was NOT about how much the GOP had wronged the black man in this country. Call it a lucky guess...

While I may be nine years Rich's junior, I actually STAYED for the mayhem that began in April of 1968 (I was 10), and the racial HELL that carried on through my entire Junior and Senior High School life. See, unlike Mr. Rich, I was (as a white kid in a white neighborhood) bused to a black neighborhood starting in the fall of 1970 (7th grade). I seem to remember an entirely different world than the one Mr. Rich glorifies, and I lived only a handful of miles away - just over the Maryland border...a simple enough bicycle ride back then through Queenstown that would likely see me killed were I to try such a ride today.

I'm used to the NYT's journalistic malpractice, but choosing to accompany Mr. Rich's piece with a Confederate Flag cartoon was the last straw. I'm sick and tired of this racism sleight of hand from the Democrats and the elitists who proclaim to know so much about life down in the mud of the streets and alleys in that school of hard knocks we "regular folk" graduated from, and I'm playing ALL the race cards below the fold...

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