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Al Sharpton is jealous of all the attention Barack Obama is getting because in his words “What has Obama ever done for the community?”
Like, the only impact Al Sharpton has ever made has been on a bucket to Popeye’s Fried Chicken.
Sharpton and Jesse Jackson are obsolete and they know it. Whatever his faults (and his only fault is that he’s too soon on the national scene to allow himself to be put up against the zombie-ghoul Republican meat-grinder in the general election), Barack Obama is the Natural Selection Black Man.
Maybe that’s because he’s half white.
Natural selection in the Darwin sense of the word means that species adopt in order to survive. Obama crosses racial lines like fusion jazz. He’s like Bill Cosby in that white people can relate to him. He is a transporter of the black racial experience to the general public without being weighted down by it.
Obama Rules! Just, not in 2008. We already have our candidate, and her name is Hillary Clinton.
Nevertheless, like an old dinosaur who refuses to cooperate in his own extinction, Al Sharpton is still having luck in finding victims to eat.
Like a predatory animal that patiently waits on the fringes of a herd of prey, waiting for an opportunity to devour a sick, lame victim, Sharpton is smacking his lips after making a meal out of scrawny, pathetic Imus, a deluded drunk and a cokehead who is a beaten down old nag of a horse that was ready for the glue factory in any sense, God bless him.
It’s not a tragedy, it’s a comedy: a big, fat hyena chasing down an emaciated, desiccated old fleabag of a chattering weasel.
Who gives a fuck about anything that Imus says anyway? I don’t know one person who listened to that gristly old drunk, who is so deluded that after thirty years in New York he still insists on wearing the stupid cowboy hat and rodeo belt buckle, like the old Clint Eastwood movie about the hick sheriff who comes to New York to catch his fugitive.
I suspect that Imus’ audience is out there in fucking flyover country, and they sure don’t care about lame jokes about nappy headed ho’s. Nobody does, except Al Sharpton.
Sharpton reminds me of the anecdote about the big-mouth comedian who created chaos in his wake everywhere he went, bringing disaster down onto everybody but himself. He’s a Typhoid Mary, and New York is his Ground Zero.
This Grand Inquisitor of the Duke lacrosse team was once involved in his own phony rape witch hunt, against Dutchess County prosecutor Steven Pagonis, who, once cleared of the charge, got a slander judgment against Sharpton, which was paid by one of Sharpton’s supporters. Teflon Sharpton, they should call him, though there’s not enough Teflon in the world to coat his fat black ass.
In any case, Sharpton now has a new windmill to tilt into, like a bloated Don Quixote de la Mattress riding his gypsy cab into battle. The New York Post today ran an article about a marksmanship instructor in the German army who instructed his recruits to imagine they were shooting blacks in the Bronx.
Which is the damned truth. All the nonsense about the impeccable New Germans is just a load of horseshit. People don’t change, and the Germans are incorrigible racist swine. Bad as we are, the Germans are ten times worse.
Bottom-feeder par excellance that he is, Sharpton immediately zeroed in this delectable morsel of human waste and slammed the Germans of using blacks for target practice. Good! Let him get his get his hooks into those pricks. They deserve each other – Sharpton and the Germans!
Maybe we should send him over to Germany as our goodwill ambassador!
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Posted on 4/15/2007
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