I almost puked this morn listening to a bunch of syrupy, self-serving maudlin babies talking about how we should all have a “conversation” about race. I mean if ever ER docs need to induce emesis in me and there’s no Ipecac available, just have me listening to about of racially sensitive twits who’ve cornered the market on racial sensitivity and sentience. And then run.
What’s actually the case is anything but a full-fledged, full-tilt discussion of race. No, the discussion is about the discussion of race. When white talk hosts can wring their hands and utter the words of that great American, the human piñata Rodney King “Can’t we just get along?” then that’s the discussion. It’s a competition among schmaltzmeisters to see who’s the most feeling, caring and aware. And I want to wax projectile emetic. I think I’ve made myself clear.
What’s excruciatingly obvious to me is a dialogue on race is the last thing that folks want. We’re children, the lot of us. Oh, just listen.
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