Saturday, August 02, 2008
Dear Diary,
Call me a senior, but boy do I have game. Mr. Uppity just doesn't know what hit him. Two days in a row on the front page of the NY Times, showcasing my 'Osama plays the race card' theme. Lovely stuff, like a garbage disposal running in reverse. No questioning of my gutter tactics. No discussion of the truth of Mr. U's complaint that we're scaring people with his skin color, funny name, funny upbringing, potential for proximity to panty-less blondes (duh, duh, duh!). Just a straightforward repetition of Osama plays the race card. A pious analysis of how it's affecting his campaign! I couldn't make this stuff up if I tried. Even though I did. I love playing these press clowns. My base? My ass.
Those press pricks are always carping about dumb politicians. Hello! How 'bout a game of spot the real dummy? We Repubs have been exploiting race fear for thirty years. Nixon's southern strategy. Reagan's states rights and welfare queens. Bush I's Willie Horton. Bush II's assault on human capital programs and income equality. Haven't they noticed!? All it's done for us is a total of four out of six presidencies, three of them two term. And they say I'm not a true Repub! Just upholding GOP traditions, that's me.
No wonder those Urban Leaguers skewered me yesterday. Sweated bullets, diary. Couldn't wait to change my shirt (Savile Row, of course!). But I didn't budge, not on affirmative action, not on any of those issues precious to their little impoverished self-righteous selves. And why should I? Not one of 'em's going to vote for me anyway. Or send a penny to my campaign. Memo to self: quit wasting time addressing worthless shiftless poor folk.
Yours truly,
John Sidney McCain, III