Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, Bernie Sanders, Amy Klobuchar, all the other Democratic presidential candidates, and all the other communist and socialist curiosities have finally broken through my clouded, obtuse logic, with their resounding, sublime and superb nuanced intellectual arguments, and now I am proud to say that I have finally awakened to just what an ignorant reprobate and low-life sinner, living in moral darkness and beyond redemption, I have been. Their efforts have led to my reformation, and now I join them in their calls for white people to pay reparations for slavery, even though I once thought anyone calling for this was as crazy as Ol’ Uncle Buttermilk, living under the bridge on South Church St. and roasting fat rats on a spit.
Once, it seemed to me, as though someone had put brain-softener in the water coolers in the halls of Congress, daft as most of the leadership had become; but now I say “bring on the reparations for everyone who has been a slave and pay them an enormous amount of the federal taxpayers’ dollars, without any exceptions”. Reparations are not a joking matter for anyone.
My life was changed by the young and old Communists alike and the epiphany that followed and made me release all my slaves by that evening’s sundown. My brother helped me count them up, not an exact count but by even dozens, and I resolved to be certain they were paid the million dollars owed them. Not one would want for a five-hundred-dollar pair of Jordans. My conscience is washed clean as the driven snow in the Light of the Lord.
I confess my crime of having once been a conservative thug, who wanted to bomb every country that wasn’t allied with America, and some that were. But Praise Heaven — I’m now a liberal, from Google to Facebook to Twitter, and I now don’t have the sense God gave a crab apple, as they used to say in Craigsville, W. VA., and I’ve crossed the aisle.
The liberals, the commies, and socialists, all once seemed so desperate to find something to claim as their guilt, their burden, so they could atone as publicly as possible and hold it over the rest of society, the conservatives and Christians, airing out their inner goodness like washed white sheets on a clothesline. Since most of them had never done anything wrong, they had to find something they hadn’t done. Surely slavery fit that bill.
This opened wide horizons of the burdens of guilt-cleansing and the satisfaction of penance. Yea, I say verily unto thee, my brothels and cisterns … Eerrrr Uhh… Brothers and Sisters, I have discovered the deep well of sins that I had no part of committing and for which I must repent: the Rape of the Sabine Women, the sack of Constantinople in 1204, and many others. Oh, what guilt! I will send Prime Minister Erdogan and the Turks twenty dollars U.S. in the mail today.
In those dark days of erroneous conservative views and false righteousness, I thought blacks owed whites reparations for burning America’s cities, like Ferguson and Baltimore. Rebuilding them is a great inconvenience to all Americans and costs the states and the nation billions of dollars.
However, this presented me with a problem, I haven’t quite figured out yet. Keeping everything politically symmetrical, if you can be guilty of something you didn’t do, perhaps you can’t be guilty of something you really did do — You know — like turning a habitable, productive city into a burned out shell of a no-go zone.
This made me also consider affirmative action. I have shocked my own senses by the reprehensible things I wrote in my former state of racial villainy. Galled to my very soul. I am shamed by my suggestion, that if you were good enough you didn’t need affirmative action, that if you needed it you weren’t qualified by any merit, and if you accepted it you were a parasite. Truly, this was unpardonable.
Still confused, I wonder, if we hire people because they can’t do a job, shouldn’t we favor the functionally less capable even more? Shouldn’t we discriminate in favor of the slightly incompetent at the expense of the hopelessly incapable? Using incompetency for hiring qualifications is the only baseline and the road to social justice.
Logically, this brings up cultural appropriation. Whenever a white person wears a Mexican sombrero to a Cinco de Mayo celebration, they are appropriating the Mexican culture without a license, and God helps them — if permitted by separation of church and state proponents — if they should attend a costume party as Michael Jackson. These actions are horribly atrocious and barely distinguishable from torching entire cities.
America should democratize all of these new ideas and any solutions that result should include everyone. Nothing could be fairer than making everyone eligible.
Whenever blacks and most Native American tribes (Seminoles the exception) use arithmetic, writing and automobiles and cellphones, they are committing cultural appropriation of white European culture, and they have been for years, which is extremely shocking. Clearly, reparations must be required from them, retroactive. I accept cash or money orders.
In considering this injustice, one must agree that the only way to attain the righteous pinnacle of the socially correct socialists and communists of America is to license white culture. A pay by the use method, say so much per hour for listening to Isabelle Geffroy or Tchaikovsky, or so much per book read, would be tedious, so we could just provide a fixed yearly amount for all members of Black Lives matter and LaRaza, for unlimited reading, arithmetic, the use of buildings, television and antibiotics thrown in for good measure. Essentially, to avoid a massive data transfer, the license fee for using white culture should equal the number of reparations paid for them not having been slaves, that would make it a wash.
Once a thuggish conservative — Oh the torment — I saw racism as an insidious evil devouring the very heart of society, like a piranha gnawing through a fallen cow. Racism revealed itself everywhere, or so I thought: in the Knockout Game that hospitalized whites; in the murders of Dallas Police Officers and the assaults on white speakers by Black Lives Matter and in entire neighborhoods where a white man did not lightly dare to walk. And now I see these are simply troubled youths crying for help, pleading for understanding by delivering concussions.
I understand now, and so, I’m moving to Venezuela.
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