Tuesday, July 11, 2006
I've gotten some complaints about the last entry I wrote. Apparently, some of my devoted readers were less than enamored with my use of ebonics. I got letters from Rev. Jesse Jackson, Al Sharpton, The Black Panthers, and other black celebrities and civic organizations ordering me to cease and desist with mocking their beloved hip-hop culture. Michael Jackson signed his name on one of the letters, but mysteriously, the black ink faded so badly that now it's almost white. Probably because of some weird disease. *Cough* Wow, I suck. Michael Jackson jokes...too easy...too 2004.
Consider this my official apology, beloved black bretheren. But while you're staring down on me in pity from your mansions built on affirmative action, reparation payments, and discrimination lawsuits, please, notice my hair, for I am one of you! I am just as cursed! Like baby Jesus, I am also a miraculous child, but some explanation might be needed to avoid the wrath of God for the blasphemy I just committed.
To the best of my knowledge, both of my parents are white. It's hard to have red hair (like my mom has and my dad used to have) and be anything else. But God tag-teamed with Mother Nature to give me not only the curse of red hair, but also the curse of...how do I say this nicely..."black" hair? That's right. My hair is red, yet it's black. I have the course, stiffish curls of a black man despite being named one of the top-10 whitest men on Earth in 2004 (last year, Conan O'Brien displaced me to number 11). Somehow, the genes of my two very white parents combined miraculously to create some sort of hair mutation that has caused me to be a social pariah since birth, ostracized by everyone except a blind girl in my 4th grade class and those two Mexican wolfmen I say on Maury last week. So, black folks, I admonish you, don't be hatin'! If you hate me, you're hating one of your own.
Consider this my official apology, beloved black bretheren. But while you're staring down on me in pity from your mansions built on affirmative action, reparation payments, and discrimination lawsuits, please, notice my hair, for I am one of you! I am just as cursed! Like baby Jesus, I am also a miraculous child, but some explanation might be needed to avoid the wrath of God for the blasphemy I just committed.
To the best of my knowledge, both of my parents are white. It's hard to have red hair (like my mom has and my dad used to have) and be anything else. But God tag-teamed with Mother Nature to give me not only the curse of red hair, but also the curse of...how do I say this nicely..."black" hair? That's right. My hair is red, yet it's black. I have the course, stiffish curls of a black man despite being named one of the top-10 whitest men on Earth in 2004 (last year, Conan O'Brien displaced me to number 11). Somehow, the genes of my two very white parents combined miraculously to create some sort of hair mutation that has caused me to be a social pariah since birth, ostracized by everyone except a blind girl in my 4th grade class and those two Mexican wolfmen I say on Maury last week. So, black folks, I admonish you, don't be hatin'! If you hate me, you're hating one of your own.
# posted by RBW @ 1:52 PM 
