Yes, it happened, unfolding just as I’d forecasted! During an appearance in Nashville last week, Tracy Morgan, the Black comedian whose shtick is to be a sassy, boorish loudmouth—to distinguish him from all of the elegant, tasteful, and restrained black comedians currently out there, I suppose—took his outrageous act to that perilous region known as “too far.”
Morgan made the mistake of complaining about gays who bitch about getting bullied (a similar complaint to one made by yours truly in these virtual pages; then again, yours truly isn't famous, so nobody cares). Morgan also apparently said he'd "stab" his son if he ever got wind that he was homosexual—a statement which, though probably made in jest, must be sternly condemned since, after all, some things are JUST NOT FUNNY. (Joking about sticking a knife in your heterosexual son, on the other hand, is no doubt perfectly cool, while declaring you'd stab your son if he ever expressed “homophobic” sentiments might just win you a medal for heroism and enlightened tolerance from the likes of GLAAD.)
Now Morgan has “learned his lesson,” but of course, and he is dutifully setting forth to right his wrong, returning to Nashville to cringe, grovel and GLAAD-hand his masters, like the slave that he is. He has even expressed his support for gay marriage.
I will never comprehend why people who are rich and famous still feel compelled to abase and humiliate themselves in this manner—if I had Morgan’s money and were in his predicament, I’d happily invite all those who want me to apologize to pucker up and kiss my skinny white ass. Heck, I’d assuredly do that now, poor, powerless, obscure paleocon pornographic scribbler though I am. Yet Tracy Morgan and his fellow celebs always seem to prefer the wretched route of the public mea culpa, which strikes me as not only degrading but foolish as well. When was the last time an apology for thought-crime ever won a thought-criminal any mercy from those who sit in judgment over him, with his fate in their hands? Apologizing just gives your enemies what they want; your desperate contrition makes them smile nastily, and start to circle you, their prey, with breathtaking relentlessness, like sharks swarming a bloody carcass in the ocean.
If you’re going to go down anyway, isn’t it better to go down swinging? Don’t let these bitches make you their nigger, Tracy! Fight like a man, for God’s sake!
