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Don’t Cry for Me Sacramento

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[img]1|left|||no_popup[/img]Unable to control herself, Speaker of the Assembly Karen Bass —warmly known in Culver City as “our very own” — insists on reminding voters in a steady stream of  interviews that she is an empty vessel politically, devoid of ideas, clout, depth and vision.

Her well-rested mind is unrelated to her faux accomplishments.

The latest blame for exposing Ms. Bass’s vacuity belongs squarely atop the ditzy head of Patt Morrison. Her page-length interview of Ms. Bass in last Saturday’s Los Angeles Times was distressingly unprofessional.

Since the 1970s, we have been told that women have been striving to be taken as seriously as men in the workplace.

But the Morrison interview was a setback to that cause, more like Dull Housewife Meets Dull Housewife to shmooze about a cure for scrubbing floors, which is how both could better apply their pocket-sized talents.

Ms. Morrison did not even try to make a case for Ms. Bass as an impressive leader of real people, even white men. What a concept.

Please, Please Shed a Tear for  Me

Instead, Pity Patti threw a pity party for the Speaker by proffering pitty-pat questions about victimhood.  She flung the door wide open for Ms. Bass to portray herself as what Larry Elder brilliantly used to call “a victocrat,” that is a minority person who greedily glories in her self-ordained status as a doormat for the white section of society.

Given that both ladies are unrequited left-wingers, who is surprised?

Yet at every whistle stop since becoming Speaker, Ms. Bass has been braying at what a magnificent accomplishment she has essayed for her gender and her race, a tired theme she has whipped like an abused child.

Even though the fix was in all the way for her to get the Speaker’s job, Ms. Bass has been obnoxiously banging all bass drums within her purview, desperately eager to proclaim herself the highest ranking, most important black woman in Sacramento.  And why don’t all of us shlubs stand up and cheer until we are hoarse?

As an opponent of critical thinking, Ms. Bass cannot decide which horse to ride — that society is against her every day or that she is a golden heroine for overcoming so darned much bigotry.

Isn’t It Funsies Playing Big-Girl Victim?

Fortunately for Ms. Bass, the Times is as consumed every morning with factual  and fictional racial  prejudice as the obsessed Ms. Bass, and so the lightweight pair became soulmates, after a fashion.

Hoping to inject an inflammatory dose of racism into her thin, retread interview, Pity Patti posed this gem:

As an African American woman, are you able to do things a white man would not be able to?

In the time that I have been following her,  Ms. Bass repeatedly has demonstrated she is incapable of reflective responses that would offer one  drop of enlightenment.

And so, adroitly putting her shaky hands together, Ms. Bass bit  at the bait, and she dove straight into a sewer of bigotry.

You could almost her the dear lady sharpening her fangs because now  she would have a chance to scramble onto the highest roof in town and shabbily proclaim:

“I  am a victim.”

The old girl did not let us down.

“No,” said the anti-erudite Ms. Bass, “I think it’s a lot easier for white men, absolutely.  I feel that gender is much more of a dynamic [in the Legislature] than race is. It’s just overwhelmingly male — in every sector of life in Sacramento.”

Truth being a scarce commodity in Ms. Bass’s life, the old girl slid,  familiarly, into fibbing form as her nose suddenly grew and grew.

“It doesn’t bother me,” she baldly lied a moment after bitterly complaining, “because I’ve grown up with that. But sometimes it’s a little taxing. At press conferences, I go out of my way and call on the women [reporters] because if I don’t, they will not be heard.”

Will somebody in the crowd please hand  this lady a mop and a bucket so she will have something to do at the next Self-Pity Parade she throws for herself?