Over at No Quarter, the inhabitants linger on the veranda as the sun slides behind the serried rows of rubber trees, sipping their gin and quinine water and shifting restlessly in the creaking wicker as a taunt, dusky-fleshed native man saunters insolently by. “If only,” they think, “for just one mad, magical night of feral abandon, he could be…White Like Us!”
I have been following the furor over Barack’s reticence to provide a bona fide copy of his birth certificate with some interest. I have a different take. I think the genuine certificate shows his race as “White.”
Let’s face it, Obama is not some kid from the hood. He was raised as a privileged guy by white grandparents (from Kansas no less)
Nothing says The Social Register like the ability to trace one’s pedigree back to Wichita.
He was an undercover white guy with beautiful chocolate skin, and no one realized who he really was.
Uh, yeah. I think this is the part where you’re supposed to break into a chorus of “I Don’t Know How to Love Him.”
At Columbia, he fell under the tutelage of liberal white mentors and he accepted their value system while learning how to use his outward African appearance against both blacks and whites.
NICK FURY: Mr. Obama, I want to talk to you about the Avengers Initiative!
OBAMA: But…I have no super powers.
NICK FURY: On the contrary, Mr. Obama. Your skin — as smooth as velvet, as deep and rich as milk chocolate — is the deadliest weapon known to man!
Obama could have gone any place after Harvard Law, but he chose to go back to Chicago, where concentrations of highly politicized, working class blacks awaited a charismatic leader. … Kind of like an old style Soviet illegal (e.g., someone who hid their past and made people believe they were something else) building his cover before conducting operational activity. He marries a well-educated radical black lady who comes to realize who he really is, a white boy “reverse passing” as black. But she also comes to realize the potential for power in this.In Wright’s church, Obama…was looking around and figuring out how to use his blackness to fool the suckers around him…Perhaps he began to identify with them a bit, but he never lost sight of his superiority over them and how this allowed him to unwittingly manipulate them. Just like an old style Soviet “illegal.”
My God, man! Do you realize what you’re saying…?! Barack Obama has stolen his entire presidential campaign from the 1977 Charles Bronson movie Telefon!
Now, between black pride and white guilt…
…he’s faked them, and us, out. He can even allow himself the luxury of arrogance in claiming that he can redraw the political map because all blacks will vote for him.Far fetched? Perhaps, but this explanation makes a bit of sense when you add it all up. Why is he hiding his grandmother? Why does he totally disown his mother and grandparents and write a book about his father, a bigamist who deserted him as an infant, as an inspiration for his life? And now, with the Presidency in his grasp, he resurrects his Kansas grandparents, his single white mother, and says nothing about his absentee, polygamist Kenyan father. Can you say, “bamboozle?”
Can you say, “Sir, this is Blockbuster. Are you aware that your copies of The Manchurian Candidate and Mandingo are eight weeks overdue?”Posted by scott on July 9th, 2008