[img]1|left|Ari Noonan||no_popup[/img]When the newspaper receives blurbs a few times a week from the National Assn. for the Advancement of Colored People, I treat them as you would any other mundane, strange-looking antique your neighbor handed you for temporary safekeeping.
Because it is an oddity of broad, curious dimensions, you study it for a moment. Blinking, furrowing your puzzled brow, you apply the same stare you would toward a two-legged dog or a bearded lady.
Some decades ago, the NAACP’s shelf life blissfully expired. They ain’t admittin’ nothin’.
By a few years after Dr. King’s 1968 assassination, race relations had settled into a stable — I did not say desirable — pattern that is likely to prevail the rest of our lives.
Black and white racism is at its lowest, most reasonable level in the history of our country — black-on-black racism, largely unacknowledged and denied, being the worst burning ember from the old days.
Wave Bye, Bye
The NAACP is no more necessary than is the maintenance of a four-legged nag in the garage, just in case your car runs out of gas. This year.
But activists, especially one-eyed yahoos, don’t hand over their swords unless they have a terminal illness, a gasless car and no other human within 500 miles.
Just like Democrats and other left-wingers, activists attract a great press, unanimously uncritical coverage for the same reason as their confreres: Print and electronic journalists overwhelmingly sympathize with their agenda.
On the same subject, the need for the equally antique, gutless and useless Anti-Defamation League ended as long ago as the NAACP’s viability.
Both have morphed into creaking, laughable institutional jokes.
To be direct: Jews and blacks have it as good as it is going to get.
The ADL and NAACP make as much societal sense as driving a covered wagon down the center of Washington Boulevard. Backward.
However, the first commandment of activism is to never willingly cede your precious patch of ground.
Activists refuse to die.
Who cares if their mission is completed?
They don’t.
Can’t be true, they protest.
Covering Themselves with What?
They have to be forcibly told they are over. Even then, cops will have to handcuff them and drag them, head first, down steep stone steps.
For the past 23 years, Abe Foxman, fat, mean and old, has carved a lucrative, work-free life out of his embarrassing, entirely political, marginally moral leadership of the ADL.
Both the NAACP and ADL, like monster vacuums, suck up otherwise badly needed public funds for their selfish, clownish exploits. They are ugly pimples on the neck of a society that moved on 25 or 30 years ago.
This afternoon’s fury was ignited by two young leaders of the NAACP, who are fast showing themselves to be moral fools.
(Hiring young people is the NAACP’s desperate grasp to regain credibility.)
Ben Jealous, the mid-30s national president of the NAACP, who is either a spineless puppet or the suspected fool, as noted above, announced that Van Jones, a four-square liar and a criminal-level racist thug whom even the Obama administration was forced to kick to the gutter, will receive the NAACP’s highest award on Friday.
And then there is the low-flying Roslyn Brock, a 40ish lightweight, named Chairman of the Board the other day.
Lest you doubt that Roslyn Baby is a scholar of mountainous proportions, she spoke as if she had marbles in her cheeks when discussing the NAACP’s progressive agenda.
Said our favorite R Baby: “Health care is a human right, and the NAACP will continue to fight for meaningful health care reform that benefits all Americans.”
Health care is a human right, a human right?
Roslyn Baby, I hope you didn’t burn any bridges when you quit your last babysitting job.
