MLK Day

Tomorrow is a day of celebration here in the States. It's a day to recognize the efforts and contributions of one of our greatest civil rights proponents, Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. (yes, yes... I know it's still Lee-Jackson-King Day in the Dirty South -- but they don't count). My employer doesn't see fit to pay me for this holiday, so I'll be celebrating by going in to work, but I thought about how an egregiously white man such as myself should go about celebrating the holiday. I'm not much for holidays, but I think this one is almost important. Call it white guilt, but I feel that I should try to make some amends for the grief people with my skin color caused people of Dr. King's skin color. I considered many different options, but I ultimately decided that the best way to celebrate the day was by spending it enjoying the very worst that black entertainers have offered us in the last 40 years, or so. Why the worst? Because that's what equal rights are all about. Crackers would have always exploited the best of black entertainers, regardless of the civil rights movement. It's the fact that now black entertainers can be just as horrid and mediocre as white entertainers and still make a fucking fortune that has made the civil rights movement relatively successful. Rather than celebrate the best that has been offered to us, I'm choosing the celebrate the worst by appreciating that it was only by the sacrifice of the bold and the brave of previous generations that has given the black community the opportunity to inflict on us things like Lil Jon and Tyler Perry. Dr. King's corpse might be vomiting bile dust at the idea of Pimp My Ride, but it would have to do so with a smile, knowing how far society has come. We still have a long way to go before we achieve true equality, but each generation brings us a little bit closer to that reality. So, I implore you all to celebrate by breaking out your least favorite Rihanna single and dig out a copy of anything starring Martin Lawrence and toast Dr. King with me.

Hell. I might even finally find out how Stella got her groove back.