In what has been called, “a milestone of reverse discrimination”, “social engineering at its absolute best”, and “political correctness on steroids”, the Texas Department of Corrections announced today that the death penalty will now be reserved exclusively for white inmates.
Bubba “Bar-B-Q” Brewster, Warden at Armadillo Flats Supermax Security Center & Rehabilitation Facility explained, “We have learned that it is simply impossible for a black man to get a fair trial in America. Prejudice, stupidity, racism, and xenophobia taint the jury pool until impartiality is an unrealistic expectation.
“Now, 77% of Texas prisoners are African American while African Americans constitute only 11% of the state’s population. When a playing field is that far from level, you’ve got to take the death penalty off the table.”
Chauncy Frampton, President of the Texas ACLU, vowed to take on the case, maintaining it denies African American prisoners the “right to a speedy death”, guaranteed by the Constitution. In an almost instantaneous rebuttal, designated prisoner representative Antwan “Pig’s Foot” Cleveland said, “Tell that white devil Frampton we don’t need his help.”
Jesse Jackson, currently recording the collected works of Dr. Seuss, could not be reached for comment.
My father was beyond judgmental; he was an imperious iconoclast with opinions about absolutely everything. The Professor expressed thoughts in the form of edicts and proclamations, as if to say disagreement was a pointless exercise. One did not have discussions with the old man, much less debates. One was educated.
My family traveled a great deal when I was young, and my dad, an architect and aficionado of esthetics, among other things, was fond of dragging us to cultural touchstones like cathedrals, gardens, and art galleries. He would explain, with signature irreverence, (much to the horror of passersby), and we would listen with appropriate respect, if we knew what was good for us.
I remember walking through the Vatican with him. Together we examined every gilt detail of this opulent, overwrought warehouse, admiring the way it oozed wretched excess at once gaudy and operatic, carefully designed to intimidate and lure with meretricious sparkle. Sweeping his arm in grand theatricality he exhaled loudly and sneered, “Cecil B. DeMille”.
The Snarling Atheist
My father was no mere agnostic, I should point out, but a snarling atheist who put nature in the place frequently occupied by God. Still, he admired cathedrals from an architectural standpoint and an artistic one. He was much taken by the cathedrals in France and took great pains to point out that the men who built them often worked their entire lives without seeing the finished product, indeed, many of these monuments required centuries to complete, and, generations of stone carvers toiled in anonymity, devoting their skill, art, passion and best energies to a higher calling.
No Guarantee Of Reward
How does the old saw go about the man who plants a tree knowing that he will never live to sit in its shade?