Nov 10, 2008
A Damn Fool
As indicated by the alarmingly incorrect subtitle, it now appears that Shelby Steele's book of hateration is destined for the .99 bin, right along side those discarded caps and tee shirts from the losing team in the Super Bowl that had been made up before the outcome of the game was known. This reminds me of a scene from the documentary Straight, No Chaser (1990), on my man pianist Thelonious Sphere Monk, where Charlie Rouse describes how Monk liked to do only one take of each song that they were recording. As Rouse said, if you made a mistake, it was going on the record and you would have to live with it the rest of your life.
Steele is a holdover from the days of the Reagan/Bush era when America first discovered this new breed known as the black neo-coons; excuse the typo. Steele and his brethren, people like Thomas Sowell, Armstrong Williams, and later on Ward Connerly, found a ready made niche for themselves as obstinate critics of everything black. Each of these jive cats, along with their main man on the inside, Clarence Thomas, would eventually turn the notion of playa hatin' into a highly formidable art form.
One wonders what is the fate of such haters in a new environment of 'change' as it regards the President-Elect of the United States? While we can't do anything about Clarence Thomas (he laughs), perhaps the others will be sent to re-education camp along with the counterrevolutionary Tavis Smiley (see previous post "Hi Hater")?