[img]1704|left|Sandy Banks||no_popup[/img] How sweet for the Left that on the now governmentally muted anniversary of Mr. Lincoln’s birth, Sappy Sandy (For a Racist, I Am Surprisingly Insecure) Banks, the Los Angeles Titanic’s evident affirmative action hire, stood up stoutly this morning in defense of the latest black racist in the headlines, Killer Chrissie Dorner.
That anyone but Killer Chrissie’s mother could publicly express wall-sized sympathy for the animal is shocking even in a day when almost nothing is hidden.
As usual when Sandy the Shallow Sap allows her temper to best her, outside of race, she offers no remotely rational raison d’etre for defending the monster du jour except that, thank goodness, he is black, which means white meanies have set him up for the present manhunt.
She Knows Who to Blame
It’s their fault. Chrissie is as pure as the snow where he may be hiding from them ol’ meanies.
Sandy the Racist argues that thankfully, Killer Chrissie is not a bad guy like those white killers, and she ticks off the names of Adam Lanza, Jared Loughner and James Holmes.
They were wild-eyed, socially awkward, owners of impenetrable minds, she says. Ah, but Killer Chrissie, he makes her pea-sized heart go flutter because, baby, he is “smiling in every picture we see, in his uniforms and medals.”
Sappy has little going on in her vacant life, and so she tells us in passionate detail about the hours – seriously – she has invested diligently, industriously, pursuing Killer Chrissie’s manifesto and swooning.
Oh, baby.
Sappy culled sunny visions of Killer from his scribbles, and she appears convinced he was ousted from the LAPD in a typical illustration of racism of the wrong kind, driven by white meanies.
One Serving of Anger, Please
Seething with anger, Sappy Sandy, who clutters page 2 of the Titanic twice a week, does not believe that Mr. Lincoln freed the slaves 160 years ago. Being a victim is so much fun, she consistently contends, and in her mind, she still is a slave. Besides, Lincoln was a nasty Republican.
She admits she is unfulfilled until she knows people are feeling sorry for her. It feels so empowering to this chronically sympathy seeking girl to be a PVS’er, a member of the Permanent Victims Society.
Lincoln nearly screwed it up, she says.
Sappy Sandy was introduced to Titanic readers a few years ago as a grieving widow with two young children. She was not grieving for her late husband but because too few people were recognizing her daily heroics as a stand-alone single mother. She wrote about the burdens of single motherhood until even her children became nauseated.
In today’s edition, she is back to black killer coddling.
If Chrissie knocked on her door, the starved widow would invite him for tea and then nostalgically reminisce about resorts the two of them lately have visited.
If Chrissie were orange or red, he would not have merited mention. But he is so beautifully black. When you see him smiling in every picture that newspapers have carried, she emoted, don’t you just want to bashfully sidle up to him, gently pinch Chrissie’s chubby cheeks and gargle, “Coochie, coochie, coo, baby”?
Nice Killer. Nice Killer. Don’t bite now.
