Total Drek

Or, the thoughts of several frustrated intellectuals on Sociology, Gaming, Science, Politics, Science Fiction, Religion, and whatever the hell else strikes their fancy. There is absolutely no reason why you should read this blog. None. Seriously. Go hit your back button. It's up in the upper left-hand corner of your browser... it says "Back." Don't say we didn't warn you.

Monday, February 26, 2007

Good Timing...

All of us, from time to time, do things that make us feel a tad awkward. For some of us, it's a speech impediment, for others, it's a displeasing bodily function and, for some of us, it's a propensity to say the wrong thing.

Whenever we feel awkward it can be uncomfortable and I, like many others, have had my fair share of these experiences. I would hesitate, in fact, to even guess at what my most awkward experience has been. To be perfectly honest, I was a pretty awkward kid and I really doubt I could easily pick a top-five, much less a number one.

All of that pales in comparison, however, to the awkwardness that would have resulted if certain information had come out a few years ago. For those who don't follow obscure Southern trivia and, thus, are otherwise unaware, it turns out that the ancestors of Al Sharpton were owned by none other than the ancestors of Strom Thurmond.* You wanna talk about awkward? Try that one on for size! I mean, let's imagine what that water cooler conversation would have been like:

Mornin' Al.

Mornin Strom.

Didja see the game last night?

Yep. That boy sure can throw, eh?

You betcha.





Turns out your grandpappy owned my grandpappy.

Yeah. I... I guess so.

What do you reckon that makes us?

Oh, nothin. That was a long time ago, Al. Things are different now.



All right- I'll let it go at that then.

Okay. Great.


Course, if you wouldn't mind fetching my dry cleaning this afternoon...

And then the race war starts. We can only shudder to think what would have happened if it turned out that Sharpton and Thurmond were related by blood. So, all things considered, it's probably just as well that Thurmond has already passed on to that great plantation in the sky** and, thus, can't make this whole mess any more bizarre than it already is.


* Although, just to be fair, Thurmond was so old I'm not totally sure he didn't serve in the Confederate Army himself.

** Oh, sure, like you've never noticed the amazing similarity between Christian heaven and an idyllic view of an antebellum cotton plantation? The strong, paternalistic but loving master? The hard working, happy, worshipful slaves? The resemblance is uncanny- right down to the lashes for trying to escape. Strom would be real comfortable up there and, to be honest, I don't think he'd be particularly unwelcome.

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