I just watched The McNeil Lehrer Hour with Gwen "Eyefull" (She my meaty sweety! She Hot! She give good "Host"! Yum-yum!) on September 16, 2009.
Horrors! Old news? Maybe not! Downloading this column was delayed by other previous downloads, that I moved to the top of my priority list. Hang on, I better go to the men’s room, I feel another download coming on.
The panel discussed ex-President Carter’s claim that White Racism influenced the South Carolina Congressman, who yelled “Liar, liar, pants on Fire”, during President Omama’s Speech to Congress. Plus they tackled the Question, "Is racism behind a lot of right wing Angerrrrr. Grrr!"
Gwen's panel of upper middle class, bonk tank/ivory tower academics (Hey, who else ya' gonna call?) from leafy, Volvo Brand suburbs, and Hip Islands of Metro-Sexuality, all wearing rather Unique Outfits befitting their station in life, confidently "Winged It", and pronounced their Carefully Considered Judgement, some with casual ease, some while staring furiously into the camera, while others prudently, and delicately, navigated their course, with Princetonly Precision.
The Conclusion?
Racism no longer exists! Because...drum roll...we have come a long way Baby!
Halleleujah! Raise Mr. Linkum from the Dead! We're all E-Man-Zip-Pated Now!
No mo' Zip Coon, no mo darky town, for white folk to worry bout now! We have all been de-racified! (Except me...I dee Only one Lef!)
So, Mr. Market Research Man, is dee Glass half full, or half empty? What's it gonna be? Dis here White Boy want to know!
Eyes don't know, Cornwheat, but I sure is thirsty, and I dooz needs me a Drink! Preferably a big Stiff one, to hep me sees things better, and kill the pains! Cuz I think I just seen me a Ghost! A White Southern Racist Ghost! In a sheet! Ridin’ by on a horse! Or maybe it was a pickup truck with a loud muffler! I can’t believe how loud that Southern Style NoMuffler be!
I'll say! You look white as a Ghost! I think you better sit down!
Say, do yooz got any Moonshine, or Tequila, in dat der Meltin' Pot Research Bin? Dat hep out fo' a little while! Dem Gubmint Revenooers keep tryin' to tell me what to think, or drink! Yep! They done told me I can't be a Racist no more! Sheet! Damn! Don't that beat all!
Hell, where's my NASCAR Rebel Flag Hat? I think I'll go hide under that! And then nobody’ll know where I am!
* * *
Who Ya Gonna Call, Ghostbusters? How to Catch White Southern Racists, Using Just a TV Set! Point That Satellite Dish That Way, Earl, That'll Catch Him! Now All We Gotta Do is Broadcast Raw Lies, for Bait! We’ll Out FOX Him, and Catch Him for Sure! All We Need is a NETWORK, of FOX Traps!
Once upon a time, way back in the day, there was a famous "Fo-Pah" (faux pas, that’s Frenchie, for social mistake) committed by Political Pollsters.
They called a large number of people on the telephone, and asked them what Presidential Candidate they were going to vote for in the National Election. The Democrat, or the Republican?
The problem was, at that time in U.S. history, very few people had a telephone. I know that's hard to believe with most people today walking around with a telephone strapped to their penis, asking mom what to buy for dinner at the supermarket. Alot of expensive minutes for, "Mom, should we have chicken nuggets, or fish nuggets?"
At that time, the only people who could afford a telephone were usually well off Republicans, and they were naturally going to vote for the Republican candidate.
Very few Democrats were called. Why? Because they couldn't afford a telephone, silly!
I can tell your Clever Brain knows where this is going!
One big newspaper jumped the gun before the presidential election results were all in, and rushed out its morning paper, with the front page headline, "Republican Dewey wins over Democrat Truman!" But when morning arrived and all the poll results were counted, it was the Democrat, Truman, that actually won.
There's a famous picture of President Truman holding up that paper that morning, with the mistake headline, and smiling!
Ghostbuster 101. Stat!
The lesson is, if your sample "universe" population does not fairly represent the Larger Universe Population you are trying to understand, your poll results will not be a true picture of the Real World. If you want to sample the water quality in a pond, you can't just dip your cup in the cleanest, or dirtiest sections of the pond, or only ask the fish with cell phones.
You can’t just ask rich Republicans with home phones in 1948. And you can’t just ask wild Volvo drivin, East Coast, well-off, Big City/Leafy Suburban Northerners, with pricey whoop-tee-do fancy pants Edgeytated Calledge Decrees, from lily white Kawlidg Campusisis, if Racism still Exists in 2009. Got it, Gumbo Head?
You have to ask STUPID PEOPLE!
Hey, Goober! What do you think about them Niggers?
Like that!
It’s like when there’s a real complicated Global, Political, Financial Sitchee-ayshun, and the price of Earl, I mean Oil, is skyrocketin, and them ace TV Reporters go down to the local gas station and stick the microphone into the mouth of the dumbest guy they can find waiting to get gas, and ask him what he done think of the current GeoPolitical Sitchee-ayshun!
That way, they get the considered opinion of a guy that never studied Nothin, and is plum near dumb as a Box o Rocks! It’s like the Snow Ruler Technique! Only you’re measuring the amazing Brilliance of the Dumbest Common Man! The guy who really should be running the country! Right?
Don't they teach this stuff at journalism school? Or is statistics just too hard and boring for today's average blond bimbo TV "reporter"? Are anchor babe statistics, 34-26-34, the only statistics needed for TV news anymore, that, and the Patented FoxBrand of Statistical Lies?
Is there someway we can make this GeoPolitical Stuff into a Sports Show, with runs, and hits, and chewin, and spittin, and crotch scratchin? You know, put it all on a higher elevated plain, so we can say things like “Well, spurts is lak a Metaphor for Life!”
Gwen, I’m going to have to Spank You, for this Minor and forgivable Statistical Sample Error, but I can assure you, I will enjoy it! You’ve been a Bad Girl! Now Bend over and take your Medicine! Whack! Oh, Bernardy! Whack!
I Promise! I’ll never again ask an upper middle class pundit, if Racism isn’t still RIGHT around the bend!
Whack!
Oh, Harder!
I’ve been a BAD Talk Show Host!
* * *
Y'All Come Down Now! Yoo Hear?
So Y'all come South, to a Po' Southern State of Mind, to a Po County, and get yourseff Settled, and Reframed, in a Southern Fried Tar Baby Trailer Shack, and den you be askin' if Racism be Daid an Gone. Yas, Suh!
An don't ferget to bring some Rope!
An don't you be livin' in no fancy pants, high falutin', puttin' on airs section of Town either, wid a Big Gate, and a Seecuritee Gard too! You gotta get your ass down to the Walmart Zone, shopping at Walmart, workin' at Walmart, and basically livin' a WallyWorld Life Style, the "New Theme Park", cuz dat all you can Afford on your 9 dollah an hour!
Nine dollah being what Republican Roman Senators consider “high livin” wages, and what Small Bidnessmen consider “excessive, and unaffordable Costs”! And what Capitalists consider "A Free Lunch or Handout for the Worker"! Or what comfortable ivory tower Econo-Mists call, “wage levels causing a drag on dee Economy, and slowin’ down Growth in Profits!”
And crank that Country up on the Radio Station, cuz its way better than that rap crap, or that weak sister white boy rock that passes for rock these days. And when the Ghetto Boy, with his Malnourished Potato Chip Diet Mind, his Boom Boom Car, and his golden bejeweled teeth, drives by sayin' "Look at me! Look at me! I Be a Man!", you can listen to his radio too, cuz you sure as hell won’t have any choice! Ahh, such sweet Black Man's Revenge!
Then go rent yourseff an apartment in a low price bracket, again cuz it's all you can afford. then get youseff a white trash chick, with an eager hungry pussy, and a butterfly tattoo just above her ass crack, so you know she's the Genuine Underclass Brand, and your Lizard Brain can see it jigglin' every time you bang her doggie style, and you can bond more "deeply" with her, and then start rubbin' shoulders with your new redneck neighbors, and soak up sum o dat Po white Southern Redneck LifeStyle! Warning! A beer and a cigarette is Mandatory!
And get yourseff a ladder, so you can climb into a jacked up Monster pickup truck, some earplugs to wear cuz the truck ain't got no muffler, (the louder the muffler, and higher the truck, the shorter the Southerner, and the tinier his penis, and the smaller and meaner his mind), and start wearin' a required NASCAR "I'm a Blue Collar Dumb Guy" Baseball Cap, with a red southern flag logo, and wear at LEAST one piece of camouflage clothing, and then start eatin' lotsa chili beans, cuz it's the New Meat, and the only thing anybody can afford in this New Republican Economy!
And once you've gotten "Into the Mind" of the Po White Southern Trashman, and bounced around into whatever Mental Activity is actually in there, other than just raw Lizard Nerve Endings, then you can go askin', "Where dat Racism Now? Here Brer Rabbit! Here Little Tarbaby! Here Uncle Remus! Where you at, Little Black Sambo??"
Until then, that segment of your McNeil Lehrer talk show, entitled "Where Racism Be?", is more like a Situation Comedy episode, than a Reality Show.
Racisms still here. It just hidin’ in the bushes. Or the George Bushes.
You just gotta put some amber colored Shootin’ Glasses on, and let loose your Pig Hunting Pit Bulls, so you ken sees what you're lookin for, a leetle more Clearly.
You hear me…Boy?
The Underground Racist Rail Road: Run Out of Town, On a Politically Correct Rail! For Real Southern Hospitality, Just Ask Real Polite!
Racism…Where did it go?
Yoo-Hoo! Where you Hidin’ at? You little Rascal you!
Marco! Polo! Ollie Ollie Oxen free! Come out, come out, wherever you are!
Dat wascally wittle Wabbit, Ol’Mr. Racism, he be Hidin’ Out, deep in dee Briar Patch!
Where you be, Mr. Racism?
The Thought Police, just chased him…Underground!
He gone underground...like a FOX!
He in a Nationwide NETWORK of FOX holes! Which is a lot like a series of large and interconnected Sewer Pipes! All hooked up to one large Corporate Brick Shit House, and to the Ass Hole of the mentally damaged Owner!
Yep! Them Hound dogs just chased Mr.Racism down the well!
Ol’ Mr. Racism, he’s like the ground water under your feet. You can't see it, but he's still there.
Stealth Racism. Flying low under the radar. Or sittin' right in front of your eyes, layin’ on your feet, just like Ol’Yeller, but with a very low Radar Profile. Woof!
You just gotta dig deep enough, sniff hard enough, to get at this Contaminated Well Water.
You gotta get way down, to the bottom, of the Well.
Yes, Sir! Racist water runs deep, the Bucket's heavy, and the Rope's not weak.
Hey Mr. Redneck! Is You a Racist? This City Slicker Jew Boy Reporter from New York City Wants to Know!
Hell…I ain't no Racist! You're the racist!
Hey City boy, I'll race you to the next stoplight, in my Nascar baseball cap! (Vroom! Vroom! Rumble-rumble-rumble.)
Ahh, come on, Mr. Redneck, are you a Racist, or aren’t you? My Research Department really wants to know!
Please, Mr. Southern Redneck! Please tell me! What do you think of Black People?
(Pause)
Earl, you're from the South, will you ask him for me? Maybe he’ll talk to you.
(Earl spits out his chaw, adjusts his Valvoline cap, and commences to speak.)
Okay, now, off the record, just between you and me, tell me what you really think of THE NIGGERS. Now, don't hold anything back! Cuz y'all know I'm SYMPATHETIC!
Just tell me what you think of them COONS!
You know, the Jungle Bunnies, them Tree Apes they call people!
Do you hate 'em as much as I do?
(Pause)
And while you're at it, tell me what you think of “our” New, inexperienced Jungle Bunny President. He's some kind of fancified Nigger A-rab! What exactly is he any way, a monkey, chimp, or what? I know he's one of them rag head, Muslim Terrorist Sand Niggers! He didn't even put his hand over his heart when he said the pledge of Allegiance! I saw it on the Internet!
So, you can tell Me what you think of Black People. Cuz I feel the same way as you do. I ain't no East Coast, Liberal Queer, City Slicker, Fuckhead Dick, like that Dude over there is.
I'm just like you.
Now, you got yer pencil ready, City Slicker Jew Boy? Cuz you might wanna rat this down, you hear?
I’m ready!
Okay then! Let her rip!
Ver-ROOM! Ver-ROOM!
Rumble-Rumble-Rumble.
Can you please repeat that? I couldn’t quite make out the words! Something about a Nigger?
Signed,
Faint Bernard
Grand Wizard of the Wascally Wittle Wabbits!
And fo dee Ladies! Presente...El Grande Lizard! The Biggest, Thickest, Longest Lizard, in the WORLD!
Copyright © 2009, by Bernard Drums! All rights reserved.
“You don't miss the racism...until the well runs dry.” -Bernard Drums!
Dats dee Lesson fo’ today! Now, climb back in your tree, and eat your Banana, you Dumb White little Evolution Ape! (Ooh-ooh!) You’re a Good White Monkey, aren’t you! Yes you are! You’re so Smart! SMART MONKEY! Now put your Rebel Hat on! You’re the smartest monkey in the whole wide jungle! Yes you are! Good Boy! (Ooh-ooh-ooh!)
Bam-Bam-Bam! "Hey, This is Old Man Racism! Let me out of this COFFIN! I ain't Done with them Niggers Yet!" Bam-Bam-Bam! "Let ME OUT!"
"Oh shit! Is that water leakin' into my coffin?"
"Huh! That ground water tastes pretty Good! A little Bitter, but not bad! And I was just startin' to build me a Powerful Thirst, down here!"
"I knew you wouldn't forget me!"
"Y'all come back now, and Visit me, and stay a while, you hear, Boy?"
"Don't be a stranger! Havin' some Company is Nice!"
"We can set on the Porch, and talk about how Fucked Up the Niggers are!"
"And have a cup of Old South Race Bourbon, mixed with bitter branch water!
"And don't ferget to wear your Nascar hat! You look real smart in that cap! Like a real SWAMP FOX, with pointy wabbit ears! There, you're comin' in nice and clear now! The Picture couldn't get any better! Now that's what I call High Definition!"
At the Journalism School, the TV Station, and the “News” Paper.
"And now Students, today we are going to learn about Surface Reporting, Surface Logic, Image Association, and Fox Traps, the four most important parts of your "Propaganda Journalism" Education"!
"How well you do on these, will determine your Fate, the Nation's Fate, and our Profit Statement, I might add."
"If you play your Political Cards Right, and want to work for a Giant Corporation, or the Republican Party, other wise known as, THE DEVIL, THE EVIL EMPIRE, or SATAN'S DISCIPLES, you could go to New York City, or Washington, D.C., and make a Nice Comfortable Living, sheltered from it all, as a “Reporter”, or a “Pundidiot.”
Any Questions? (Long Pause.) I didn't think so.
It’s best just to keep your mouth shut.
You get along easier that way.
Now, bend over, cuz I’m just gonna ease this in. You won’t notice a thing. Just a little mild, temporary discomfort. Trust me, you’ll get used to it after a while, and you won’t even know it’s there.
There, that feels really good for me! How about you?”
* * *
www.CultureDrums.BlogSpot.com
Y’all come back now, you hear!
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