Don’t tell anybody, but the food served in the cafeteria at CIA Headquarters in Langley, Virginia is simply awful. I’m not absolutely positive, but I’m pretty sure it isn’t a violation of United States national security to reveal that the tuna salad is made with partially hydrogenated cotton seed oil and is consequently loaded with indigestible trans fats, the vegetables are soaked in massive concentrations of sulfites, you can’t spit without hitting something made with carrageenan, butylated hydroxy anisole, polyoxyethylene sorbitan esters or sodium erythorbate; plus, only God Himself could say what the CIA’s culinary contractor uses in the stuffed manicotti – but it sure as hell isn’t ricotta cheese; and, Sweet Lord Almighty, I’m not making this up, when I got back to my office in downtown Washington yesterday afternoon, I had the worst case of heartburn I have experienced in at least the last ten years.
Never mind why I was there, eating that reprehensible food, I can’t talk about that. But no sooner had I arrived at my desk than I chewed up six Tums and washed them down with two pints of Gerolsteiner water, chilled to 45 degrees Fahrenheit, taken from one of the three miniature refrigerators I keep there. Now, I’m sure that most of my Dear Readers know their mineral water – or at least that’s what Google’s marketing consultants told me, after analyzing my Web site statistics. So you can appreciate how severe my gastric acids must have been, for me to unleash a hand full of Tums on my beleaguered stomach prior to quaffing half a quart of the rich man’s favorite antacid remedy.
Actually, I would just say, don’t get me started on mineral water, because I’m still extremely angry that the US EPA, which, just yesterday afternoon, went chafed elbows, skinned knees and greased buns up to the Bush Administration over global warming, but nevertheless still prohibits importation of Ramlosa water, which the big, robust, tall, blonde, blue-eyed, virile and disgustingly healthy Swedes have been drinking since 1707, and which we Americans, allegedly because of its fluoride content, are legally forbidden to consume. Go figure. Tums, of course, are nothing but powdered chalk, and, try as they might, the morons in our national government who are charged with regulation of such issues have yet to find a good reason for prohibiting us to eat that. Ah, sweet relief. Scarcely ten minutes passed, however, before my private secretary informed me that the Right Reverend Jesse Louis Jackson was on Line One, demanding a consultation.
Tom: Yes, Reverend, how can I help you?
Jackson: Collins, with all this [expletive] hitting the fan about what I said on that open microphone, you’re the only person I can think of who could remain objective.
Tom: Why, that’s very good of you to say, Reverend. Thank you. I take it you’re calling for advice about what to do, now that you’ve been caught saying that Barack Obama talks down to black people and you’d like to cut off his testicles?
Jackson: Yeah, that’s it.
Tom: And, I take it, you’re experiencing a pretty strong backlash on this?
Jackson: “Pretty strong?” The backlash is ridiculous!
Tom: How does it compare to the backlash you got when you were caught referring to New York as “Hymietown” back in 1984?
Jackson: I don’t know, it’s like, maybe ten times the backlash factor I had to deal with that time I called Jew York “Hymietown.”
Tom: Excuse me, but did you just say “Jew York?”
Jackson: Yeah, you know, the Big Bagel, Kike-opolis – Hymietown. Ikey, Mikey, Jake and Sam, they’re the boys who eat no ham, gonna hock your watch and fob, and give some Korean gook your job, the hook-nosed Heebs of Hymietown, who always keep the black man down…
Tom: Okay, okay, I get the idea, Reverend. Very well, then, can you tell me what, specifically, made you so angry at Senator Obama?
Jackson: Well, for starters, he said “Any fool can have a child. That doesn’t make you a father. It’s the courage to raise a child that makes you a father.”
Tom: And you think that’s talking down to black people?
Jackson: Hell no! I think that’s stealing my [expletive]! I’m the one who said “You are not a man because you can make a baby. You’re only a man if you can raise a baby, protect a baby and provide for a baby.” I said that, back when Barack Obama was snorting coke, beating off to pictures in Penthouse and telling lies in his middle school gym locker room! And I’ve been saying it, over and over, for nearly forty years!
Tom: Well, you know, as they say, “Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.”
Jackson: But it ain’t fair! If a black man who says those things should be President, well, I said those things first, and so that black man who’s gonna be President ought to be me!
Tom: Oh my goodness, Reverend. Am I detecting evidence that Spike Lee was right when he stated you’re saying unkind things about Senator Obama just because you’re jealous?
Jackson: That Spike Lee, he don’t know jack squat about nothin’! Look at all the ignorant [expletive] he says and nobody pays the least bit of attention to it, either.
Tom: Like what, for instance?
Jackson: Like when he says “Fight the power that be. Fight the power.”
Tom: Well, you have to admit, that statement is so abstract and lacking in specificity, it would take a lot of effort for anyone to get angry about it.
Jackson: Then how about when he said “Violence is a part of America?”
Tom: I’d have to say, yes, that’s true, and furthermore, since he doesn’t blame anybody in particular for it…
Jackson: How about when he said “There’s an unwritten law that you cannot have a Jewish character in a film who isn’t 100 percent perfect, or you’re labeled anti-Semitic.” How come he gets to say stuff like that, in public, no less, but when I get caught saying “Hymietown” in a private conversation, everybody expects me to get down on my knees and lick the gefilte fish and pastrami flavored dingleberries out of every [expletive] [expletive] Yid’s [expletive]?
Tom: Because people sort of expect Spike Lee to make provocative statements. You, on the other hand…
Jackson: Look, I know I have a responsibility as a public figure, but I also know nobody is perfect and what’s more, I know that time heals all wounds.
Tom: Sure, but would time make Obama’s testicles grow back?
Jackson: I was merely employing a metaphorical figure of speech, Tom!
Tom: And what a metaphorical figure of speech it was, Reverend! There we have it – proof positive for the power of the spoken word. Whatever prompted you to use such an offensive metaphor, such a disgusting figure of speech? I mean, really, Reverend, even Howard Stern, at his very worst, never said anything like that!
Jackson: Collins, you know as well as I do, I didn’t know the microphone was live.
Tom: Sir, you must always assume that it’s on. It’s just that simple. Never say anything with a microphone attached to your lapel that you wouldn’t want to read on the front page of tomorrow’s newspapers.
Jackson: Yeah, well, like they say, hindsight is always twenty-twenty. Look, I apologized, all right? You must have heard about that.
Tom: Oh, of course I have, and, in my opinion at least, you did an excellent job of apologizing, too.
Jackson: Yeah, well, like they say, practice makes perfect.
Tom: And Lord knows, you’ve had plenty. Besides, you don’t really dislike Senator Obama do you?
Jackson: Not really, I don’t suppose, but he sure can be a pain in the [expletive] sometimes.
Tom: Well, didn’t he get your organization a couple of hundred grand to start an urban venture capital fund, back when he was an Illinois state senator?
Jackson: Yeah.
Tom: And since you’re a Reverend, that was a faith-based initiative, wasn’t it?
Jackson: Okay, I suppose you could call it that.
Tom: And how about your Citizenship Education Fund? Didn’t Barack arrange for a grant?
Jackson: Yes, that’s true, he did.
Tom: And you have to admit, don’t you, that almost none of the money in that grant was spent on your declared purpose?
Jackson: My organization had unexpected expenses. These things happen, you know.
Tom: And Obama never said anything about the missing money, did he?
Jackson: Well, why should he? It wasn’t his money, was it?
Tom: But still, you admit that you said “See, Barack’s been talking down to black people on this faith-based stuff. I want to cut his nuts off.”
Jackson: Yeah, I said that – you know I said that; we both know I said that.
Tom: But how could you have been mad at him about endorsing continued use of faith-based initiatives?
Jackson: No, I guess I couldn’t, not really.
Tom: And how could you have been mad at him for “talking down to black people” if what he was talking about was black men taking personal responsibility for paternity and black churches and religious organizations like yours continuing to engage in faith-based initiatives?
Jackson: Oh, all right, I couldn’t. What’s your point?
Tom: My point is, what was it, then, really?
Jackson: Oh, I don’t know; Obama’s just… damn it, he’s a [expletive] Oreo, that’s what! He’s black on the outside and white on the inside! It just burns me up, that’s all! I could have done that, you know – I could have pretended I was white, I could have acted like I was white, just like he does! Is that what it takes for a black man to get elected President? That he has to talk like Robert Young on [expletive] Father Knows Best so as not to scare the Dickens out of all the poor little honkies? What’s the matter with them, anyhow? Are they really that afraid of black people, that they start shaking in their boots when I start talkin’ like H. Rap Brown?
Tom: Yes, Reverend, I think they probably are. But didn’t you, yourself, criticize Ralph Nader for complaining that Obama “talks like a white man?”
Jackson: That’s different! Ralph Nader is a white man! White people got no right to criticize black people for acting white! It’s racist!
Tom: Reverend, I think it’s clear that the first thing you need to do is realize that denial isn’t just a river in Egypt. Only after you accept that what you said was inexcusable, unacceptable and in extremely bad taste, will you be able to move forward.
Jackson: Well, that’s what you think. I think people over-reacted, that’s what I think.
Tom: Reverend, even your own son thinks what you said was monumentally stupid and absurdly ill-advised.
Jackson: Yeah, I know; I’m not saying it wasn’t stupid, and I admit it was ill-advised, but, I still say everybody over-reacted. That’s all – they over-reacted. And I say that their over-reaction is so extreme, so over-blown, and so out of proportion, it is no better than what I did in the first place.
Tom: Okay, let’s go with that, then. Let’s assume people did, in fact, generally over-react to what you said. Now, please tell me why you think they over-reacted.
Jackson: Because I’m black, obviously.
Tom: Reverend Jackson, are you serious?
Jackson: Of course I am. What do you mean, am I serious?
Tom: Reverend, if a white person had said that they wanted to castrate Barack Obama, there would have been a national hue and cry against them. They’d be utter pariahs, no matter how profusely they apologized, and no matter how many times they did it.
Jackson: So you’re saying I got off easier because I’m black?
Tom: I’m saying that, because you’re black, you at least have a chance of reconstructing your career and public image after this incident. If you were white, all I could advise would be that you change your name to Osama bin Laden and go live in a cave – that way, at least, you wouldn’t be any more unpopular than him. Now, tell me the truth, Reverend, you didn’t by any chance say you wanted to castrate Obama because doing so would require you to grab his testicles, did you?
Jackson: I, uh, why, no, absolutely not! The thought never even occurred to me.
Tom: Not consciously, anyway.
Jackson: Oh, no. Oh, my God! You mean, in my subconscious mind…
Tom: Could the act of cutting them off be a violent transference of… another desire – one you would never, ever consciously admit to yourself?
Jackson: No, wait. That’s not possible. There’s no such thing as black homosexuals.
Tom: Oh, that’s right – I forgot. And, since you are black, it’s impossible for you to have any kind of subconscious gay-themed thoughts or urges toward Barack Obama or any other man, for that matter, whether overt, sublimated or transferred. So, I guess that means you must have subconsciously wanted to eliminate Obama’s sexual powers so you could do something else – such as usurp him and possess his wife, Michelle, perhaps?
Jackson: No way! She’s a total [expletive]! I’d rather put my Johnson in an electric jumbo crayon sharpener and throw the switch!
Tom: That’s it then – fear. You subconsciously fear Michelle Obama’s domineering manner. Your inner mind sees her as a threat to your own masculinity. Consequently, you have an unrealized castration anxiety, centered on her, which, when expressed by your conscious mind, turned on her husband. That’s why, when you were thinking about something he did that made you very, very angry, you said you wanted to cut his nuts off.
Jackson: You know, Tom, I think you might have something there. Maybe what I need to do is take these issues up with a qualified mental health professional.
Tom: Okay.
Jackson: Instead, that is, of talking about them to an arm-chair amateur psychologist like you.
Tom: Reverend, we can only hope you do. Well – it looks like my job here is finished.
Jackson: Yes, I think it does.
Tom: So, where shall I send my invoice?
Jackson: Invoice? I heard you advised Michelle and Barack for free.
Tom: That’s not entirely true – actually, they stiffed me.
Jackson: They stiffed you? So, did you send a collection agency after them?
Tom: Of course not. I don’t believe that sort of behavior is good business practice.
Jackson: Did you sue them for the money?
Tom: No, it’s my policy to avoid litigation, and besides, paying a lawyer to sue them would cost more than my minimum consultation fee.
Jackson: So, basically, if I don’t pay you, you ain’t gonna do nothin’ about that either, then?
Tom: No, I probably won’t.
Jackson: Okay, then, I ain’t payin’.
Tom: I understand.
Jackson: Thanks. Now, don’t tell anyone I called you, because if word ever gets out that I turned to some over-educated white man with an office inside the Beltway for guidance about handling all the flack I’m getting because of this de-nutting Obama [expletive], I’m totally baked.
Tom: As opposed to what you are now?
Jackson: Which is?
Tom: Well, when Senator George Allen called a rival campaign operative attending one of his rallies “Macaca,” that was the end of his political career. In my opinion, that’s totally baked.
Jackson: I agree.
Tom: And when Don Imus said “nappy-headed ho’s,” he lost his job as a radio announcer…
Jackson: Yeah, but then, he made a comeback and started working again.
Tom: So? You figure you’re like that, like Don Imus?
Jackson: Right – half-baked.
Tom: Well, I certainly hope so, Reverend.
Jackson: Me, too.
Tom: Have a nice day.
Jackson: You do the same.