Speaking The Unspeakable

by Norman Liebmann

May 12, 2000


There is a story considered amusing in the halcyon days before the suffocating blanket of Political Correctness descended over America and became increasingly oppressive with its dissemination. A black man walking across 125th Street in Harlem asks a Caucasian passerby, "Can you tell me where the Apollo Theater is?" The white man replies courteously, "You're a block passed it." The black man's eyes narrows menacingly as he retorts, "What did you call me?"

The story lives on as a reflection of the absurdity with which minorities have taken up the hobby of collecting injustices. Apparently, political correctness is their policy of choice. Its protagonists boast, sanctimoniously, if there had been political correctness after World War I, Americans would never have been exposed to the musical aspersion that "They don't wear pants in the southern part of France."

For minorities, life has become a scavenger hunt for fancied slights and grounds for baseless lawsuits. It would be a great convenience for America if the blacks brought their entire "seek-and-destroy" mission for illusory grievances to court all at once, declare victory, and go to the free throw line. Where once Americans were minority's benefactors, they are now being intimidated into becoming their prey. That must end.

Civil Rights leaders sermonize with self-righteousness while supporting rapturously (for heavy recompense) the rapist, traitorous, perjurious, perfidious, and perverted Bill Clinton, who could not get Jack the Ripper to appear as a character witness in court on his behalf for fear of damaging his reputation.

Minorities will be well advised to conjure how long they can merchandise their resentments before they are written off as just an antipathetic people in an unremitting antipathetic mood. Their pique no longer seems to be directed toward any great injustice, but rather to a lot of carping about why tennis balls are not black, and nets are not hammocked lower for minorities, who, presumably, need an edge in lofting their balls. Can Affirmative Badminton be far behind?

No matter how much Jesse Jackson, Louis Farrakhan and Al Sharpton – racial extremists we might label "the far black" – bleat and whine, white people will remain white. (With particularity, if an Eskimo can live at the North Pole where the environment is as white as it gets, why can't Al Sharpton, who is already shaped like an igloo?)

Still, it is arguable, that the last few generations of young whites are culturally black, perhaps, having become convinced the demands on blacks are easier due to the "special considerations" from the Clinton Administration in exchange for demeaning them as some kind of rejected segment of society. Or, perhaps, television has persuaded them it's just more fun to be black than white. There is an axiom that holds, "If you have ever been black on Saturday night in Harlem, you would never want to be white again." I leave that with you to mull to your purpose.

However much fun there is in being black, conversely, there is also a burgeoning paranoia that nobody loves them, though the possibility is never entertained that they are doing anything unlovable. It does not occur those vituperative legal actions and mean lawsuits with which, like land mines, they've seeded the social landscape, make everyday commerce or even casual conversation a swamp of possible litigation. That is hardly endearing.

The notion that higher education is more available to whites than to blacks is crap. The fact is, just about everyone in America, irrespective of race, color, creed, or place of national origin, is loaded up with the worst kind of worthless academic dross. The university's major mission is to teach its pathetic acolytes how to fight the impulse to express themselves grammatically. Quotas have guaranteed everyone the right to have a diploma without compromising the privilege of remaining picturesquely illiterate, which, in the Clinton culture, is a social advantage.

Bill Clinton, America's worst enemy, (you're ahead of the game if you can keep him away from your sister or your dog) has legitimized the recipient class – a label for re-categorizing the ignorant and the indolent. They have no conscience, which they perceive as corroboration that any criminal nitwit, even from Arkansas, can grow up to be President, and gives them a proprietary interest in Bubba's political prosperity. Because of him, the term "expecting" now refers to the indigent – not the pregnant.

Seemingly, the "recipiently-inclined" and Clinton are on Earth to exploit each other. If black people were the defenseless, frangible breed Clinton alludes, his Administration would already have put them in state parks and preserves with signs on the front gates specifying their feeding times. Clintonian craftiness implies that minorities must be kept overfed lest they turn on you like ill-treated rotweillers.

President Clinton, who situated himself at the head of the gaudiest presidential entourage in American history, said he would make his Administration look more like America. Rather, he has made it look more like a safari. Where liberals are the source, minorities are immune to such patronizing and insult.
[Note: It was the staunch Hollywood proponents of civil rights that portrayed African bearers on safari, who, at the sight of a chipmunk, dropped their bundles and took to the trees. In that same venue, Clinton's blasphemies about racial diversity invite the lightning. Some theologians speculate the zebra is a horse in which God thought to create racial diversity, but changed His Divine Mind halfway after viewing the result.]

It's a thousand to one there will be a statue in front of the Clinton Library of Bubba sitting in Rosa Parks' lap. Yet, our sources tell us Clinton is the worst of racial hypocrites who even runs tapes of "Roots" backwards so that the Maxine Waters and her ancestors end up back in Africa. Still, Clinton considers himself the Lord Jim of the Inner City, and counts on minority folk to be his Elite SS in the street strife after he breaks the news he's not leaving the White House after all. He has many markers from among the privileged "underprivileged." (Clinton thinks any race is underprivileged if they don't play hockey or accordions.) Khofi Annan, the Imposter General of the United Nations, under whose auspices emerging nations do everything but emerge, stands ready to dispatch armed invasions of any country to keep Clinton's most recent rape out of the headlines. Other than that, the UN has no function, though it does afford a convenience of being able to hate people in distant parts of the globe without leaving home. The UN has made bigotry cost effective.


Jesse Jackson's inclination to show up everywhere and right wrongs that are none of his business reminds us of the holdup guy who goes to a movie theater, pulls a gun on the cashier, and says, "I didn't like the picture. Give me everybody's money back."

Present day minority leaders have ignored the precepts of Dr. King, and are re-writing the history of the Civil Rights movement from Tar Baby to Tawana. Jackson is convinced big noise compensates for small numbers. He has locked arms with other malcontents, and has spent millions just to impede the flow of traffic in every downtown intersection in America just to integrate a few Chevron rest rooms and put "Whitey" on notice that "Mammy's little baby no longer loves sho'tenin' bread."

Jackson would do better to stage his protests in the Sudan where people of color still sell other people of color to yet other people of color. Perhaps, he feels slavery is like incest – okay as long as you keep it in the family. Perhaps what some of his people found most objectionable about slavery is, it is too much like having a steady job. (Incidentally, how does it elude American blacks who seem to name every third baby Jamal, that it was the Arabs that initiated and ran the slave trade? Even the Weather Bureau has been catching flak from civil rights groups for having not yet named a storm "Hurricane Jamal.")

Jackson's power ploy is, each time his demand is met, he raises the ante. (It worked for Hitler.) He convinced a janitors union they were being denied their share of "the American Dream." When the strike was won and the smoke cleared, their share of the American dream turned out to be a dollar an hour raise. We suspect Jackson made out better for himself. If the past is prologue Jackson "cleaned up" but the janitors didn't.

What is the American Dream for a janitor? Is it the day he bronzes his favorite plunger, points to a bank of pay toilets and says to his kid, "Someday this will all be yours?" Likely, no one ever thought there was any disgrace in being a janitor until they were so advised. In due course, unemployed janitors were stirred up as casualties of the new toilet technology and victims of "The Drano Revolution." Routinely, in Clinton's America, they will blame it on racial discrimination. More than likely, what holds them back is dreaming the American dream on their employer's time, who may have some parochial views about on-the-job dreaming.

Clinton is the single most villainous and depraved individual in the history of the United States. His only legacy is a media beyond further corruption, its baseness so total, data will remain permanently refracted. The word "information" will no longer serve to describe what it is media disseminates. No profitable dialogue about race or anything else can occur since Clinton defecated in the English language. As in Alice in Wonderland, for the media, words mean what Clinton intends them to mean – no more and no less.

The passionate and assiduous courting of minorities is the springboard for Clinton's half gainer into fascism. He passed along to Al Gore his political "modus operandi," to never campaign in front of any crowd that could not pass for a road company of Green Pastures. In a climate of truer racial equity, Porgy and Bess would be portrayed by Asians. Rather than sing, they would come on stage with a blackboard and do calculus equations for the audience. (If the Clintons were as sincere in their opposition to racism as they protest, they would offer Chelsea as a door prize to the inner city. Likely, Bill and Hillary would adopt a more pragmatic view of race relations if they saw Rodney King carrying Chelsea to the top of the Empire State Building.)

It is reported that ninety-odd percent of African Americans have deployed themselves foursquare behind that depot of treason and corruption, the Clinton White House, for which service they claim special nurturing. The Dems have already shtupped them with enough grants, subsidies and Thunderbird wine to celebrate the next fifty Kwanzaas. They responded with a wave of justification for Clinton's perversion and treason, and enough jury nullification and referenda reversal to render unreliable all future election results.
[Note: The police state of California is an aggravated case in point. Racial caramelization is policy in La La Land, a legal hothouse of play-it-as-it-lays genetics. Paradoxically, its Governor, Gray Davis, couldn't look any whiter if he was the belly of a carp.]

Through narrowness, stupidity and greed, Americans have allowed the Democrats, the recipient class, and the crooked billionaire industrialist traitors to usurp everything in sight. They have ignored Waco, Ruby Ridge, Seattle, Washington, Miami, and Vieques Island, and have allowed Bill Clinton to further his efforts to indenture a once free American people to Jiang Zemin, Fidel Castro, and the Ivy League. The worms in the Senate will not raise their voices for us. As much as anyone, minorities have made the ground for Clinton fascism fertile. Their witless endorsement fueled his appetite for vice, and created the climate in which Clinton could be as abandonedly totalitarian as his warped instinct directs.

Civil Rights fanatics have already forced the state of South Carolina to abandon its heritage by lowering the Stars and Bars. We may yet see a hundred and twenty year old man face a firing squad because he was a Confederate drummer boy at Bull Run.

The nation is weary of bulls**t ethnic allergies: lyrics without music: absurd laments that there aren't enough blacks on television, or "hip hop" princes in Bel-Air that aren't fresh enough. There are more blacks on television than there are in the Downtown Nairobi Chapter of the NAACP. (The fact is TV will be a calamity no matter who appears on it, and is beyond the power of any ethnic group's ability to stuff it further down the ol' porcelain receptacle than it already is. The American dream ain't what it used to be.)

It would not surprise me if the nation is growing weary of Oprah "I Am a Network" Winfrey. She has become the black Betty Crocker, a hopelessly middle class matron sitting by the telephone, ready to rush to the aid of any hausfrau who needs help stirring a cake mix or re-tarring a roof. Contrary to the conventional wisdom, "Saint" Oprah did not invent compassion or understanding anymore than Al Gore invented the Internet. As far back as the 1850s, Alfred Lord Tennyson wrote, "Kind hearts are more than coronets, and simple faith than Norman blood." So much is she a symbol of manufactured sympathy one wonders if crocodiles cry Oprah-tears.

Inexplicably, African Americans seem unable to reconcile themselves to the fact that "black" has become the emblem of their defiance – not the color of their race – or the radical notion that color is not optional, but circumstantial. In the interest of exactness, there are no "black" people, but a vast monochrome arrangement of brown people – some browner than others. (The only truly black people are the eighty-odd folks in Waco left charred by Janet Reno.) Black is, in fact, an absence of color, and, paradoxically, while demagogues scheme, it will never be absent from America's consciousness, so long as it indulges political hypocrites' depravity and serves their ambitions.

If statistics bear, black people in America believe Clinton is the perfect President, which calls their standards of perfection into question. It's reliable, rap music is downhill from Duke Ellington. It is equally true when Frederick Douglass walks in and Sean "Puffy" Combs "trucks" on out. (Combs is a black music icon currently under indictment, who, when he gets all dressed up, looks like a stolen car.) It all suggests Evolution needs a new mainspring. Civilization will not be elevated by any people whose culture peaked with the "high five" and the pork pie hat.

Abdicating from freedom is too high a price to pay to ameliorate minority sensibilities, real or fancied. Whites have to answer for Bill Clinton, blacks for O.J. Simpson. It should prompt both ethnicities to turn off the TV and consider the moral lassitude that produced these chimeras.

Minority discontent, which has long been the lodestone of the Democrat evil, may be ebbing along with the pot of welfare checks at the end of the rainbow of Clinton's bread and circuses Administration. The end of the convenient cross-empowerment of Clinton and minorities may be at hand. Bill Clinton's RICO Administration, like all political plagues may end, in which case minorities will have to stop thinking of the government as a wishing well.

Clinton's façade may never be on Mount Rushmore but perhaps he will be honored as the first white sleeping car porter on the Soul Train. "Gen'emens, we be pullin' into de main station of Hell in ten minutes. The lucky folks will be gettin' off there 'cause the next stop after Hell is Little Rock."

Norman Liebmann is a former television writer [Johnny Carson, Dean Martin; wrote and produced "Chico and the Man" and created the characters for "The Munsters" (who are all named after his relatives)] and a brilliant and insightful columnist/humorist. Please visit his website Firehat, a treasure trove of Clinton and Media bashing.

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13 may 2000