Tuesday, March 13, 2012

A NEW BLACK CONSERVATIVE RUNS FOR PRESIDENT



“THE EARTH IS FLAT” the placard read.  I gulped trying to digest my host’s meaning.  I’d come to the soul food restaurant to visit with my personal mentor and guru, the great ghetto philosopher, Cleophus Leroy Jones.  As usual, I’d come to visit Cleo during a time of great confusion.  I simply could not get my head around the platforms being put forth in the Republican primary.  The candidates reminded me of an old Superman comic series on Bizarro world that was based on the exact opposite of reality on Earth.  On Bizarro World, for example, people said goodbye when they approached and hello when they departed.

I knew Cleo liked to hit me with ambiguity the way arduous men ply women with booze when the joint is about to close.  Unfortunately, that knowledge did little to steel me against Cleo’s sign.  Cleo read the confusion in my eyes.

“I’m running for president,” he answered my unspoken question. 

“Scuse me? 

“I’m runnin’ for President.  I got my platform all mapped out.  When I’m finished, y’all gone find some space on Mount Rushmore for me.  Check out the rest of my platform.”  He began flashing the placards of his political platform.   The first sign boasted several cartoon characters wearing bow ties and apparently screaming, though nothing came out of their mouths.  The caption:  THERE WOULDN’T BE NO GLOBAL WARMING IF THE POLITICIANS WOULD JUST SHUT UP.    CLEO REALLY CARES ABOUT ME read a placard with a stringy haired, pregnant, barefoot woman, balancing a baby on one hip, and holding the hand of another toddler.  JOB KILLING REGULATIONS IS AGAINST THE WILL OF GOD, read another sign featuring a man riding a monster truck with a giant straw sucking oil directly out of the ground.  The next two signs had no images, just words.  The first one said, A VOTE FOR CLEO IS A VOTE FOR FREEDOM AND JESUS AND GUNS. The next one read, YOU CAN TRUST A MAN NAMED CLEOPHUS JONES.    The next placard featured a figure who closely resembled Boris Badenov, except for his attire.  The character sported a gigantic sombrero, six shooters, and spurs that reached a third of his height.  That sign read, AMERICA IS FOR AMERICANS.    The last sign showed a young black, male cartoon character with huge thick lips wearing a massive wide brimmed hat, sunglasses, a fur coat, gold teeth, gigantic diamond rings on all of his fingers, dollar bills sticking out between his fingers, and driving a Cadillac the size of a small ocean liner.  The caption read,” PLEASE DON’T VOTE FOR CLEO.  HE’S GONNA MAKE ME WORK FOR A LIVING.  I NEED YOUR TAX DOLLARS TO STAY ON WELFARE.

I gasped at the last sign.  “How … how.. how could you?!”  My beans and rice flew out of my mouth as I sputtered. 

“Calm down, College Boy,” Cleo responded with more than his usual derision.  “It’s all part of my plan.  I’m runnin’ for office on a platform that’s to the right of Rick Santorum.  It’s more flip flop than Mitt Romney, more irresponsible than Ron Paul and slimier than Newt Gingrich.  I’m coming out against all government regulations and agencies ‘cause government, no, excuse me, gummint is evil.  I’ma abolish the EPA-pollution aint nothing but a left wing hoax- and most of the other government agencies.  Won’t be no health care, no unemployment insurance, no Social Security, Medicare, public education teaching evolution and fancy ideas, no government getting on the people’s backs.  All my government is gone do is buy guns for defense.  Everything else, you’re on your own.” 
I was too shocked to keep my head from spinning.  “Number one, you’re going against everything you believe in.  And number two, that platform is way too extreme to win a general election.  And number three, the kind of folks you’re going after are hardly going to want an African American president.  So, what could you possibly hope to accomplish?”

“As usual, the subtleties and complexities of my mind continue to escape you.  In the first place, for my purposes, what I believe in got nothin’ to do with this.  I said was going to out flop Mitt Romney, and out-slime Newt Gingrich.  Number two, I don’t need to win the whole election, just a few key states that believe in my platform.  And number three, these folks love voting for people like Herman Cain and Congressman Allen West who is just to the right of Genghis Khan.”

“Why do you only need a few states?” I trembled as what his answer might be.

“Look, places like Mississippi, Texas and South Carolina will love my platform.  Once I win those states, I’m going to propose that the only way we can get gummint of our backs is to secede.  These folks will go for it.  We can start a campaign to get like minded people to move to the states I won.   Unlike what happened before, there really is no reason for the country to fight a civil war to keep these folks.  They’ll  be glad to let them go.  I’ll make Racist Rush Limbaugh my Communications Minister and Sean Hannity will be the Vice President.

“So, what happens after you secede?”
“I’ll defect to the old United States for asylum.”

“So, all the people who are against government, knowledge, the environment, science, separation of church and state and a lot of other things the union is supposed to represent will be gone.  Then you’ll be expecting your place on Rushmore?”

“You don’t agree?”

“I’ll start digging right away.”