"Republican National Committee Chairman Michael Steele told a group of young Republicans that he would reach out to black voters by offering them fried chicken and potato salad. Asked by a blogger how he would reach out to "diverse populations," Steele said: "My plan is to say 'Y'all come,' because a lot of you are already here." After someone in the audience said, 'I'll bring the collard greens,' Steele added, 'I got the fried chicken and potato salad."'
Ha ha ha ha ha ha. Boy Mike you are one funny guy; a really funny guy. Ha ha ha ha ha.
Just when I was going to leave republicans (particularly the young and black ones) alone, along comes Hip hop Mike to remind me why I can't.
Mike Mike Mike, when will you learn? First of all, I do happen to love me some fried chicken and potato salad, and I like collard greens, too. In fact, I am guessing that 90% of the black folks in A-merry-ca will step over their dead mama to get to a well fried and seasoned piece of chicken. But Mike, that is not the kind of shit you go sharing with a bunch of young republicans for a few laughs. It's just not. Mike, they were laughing at you, not with you. To republicans, you are nothing but their walking talking minstrel show, someone to remind them of why they try to exclude blacks in the first place. You are, in essence, a joke. Quit now to preserve what little dignity you have left and stop embarrassing your family and your race. His O ness dissing you at that correspondents dinner should have given you a hint. It was written to be a joke, but I am quite sure that his O ness was dead serious, and he was speaking for the rest of us black folks to your dumb ass.
Mike, here is the thing: do you think Howard Dean would go to a black church and make a joke about something unique to white culture? Like, for instance, serial killers? (Oh I kid I kid, lighten up.) No Mike, he would not! If you want to attract blacks to the republiklan party, you do not make fun of our eating habits in front of a bunch of white folks. Especially when the shit is true. If you can cook a mean fried chicken; then go to your kitchen, fry up a batch of that shit, and sit down and type out some invitations to the field and friends. If your fried chicken and potato salad can come even close to Mother Fields; then, and only then, will we even consider sitting down to listen to your pitch to join your damn party. If your shit is nasty,--- as I suspect it will be--- we will tell you to take that crap to a republican potluck and lose the field's number.
H/T To field hand, Red Devil, for leaving a comment under the previous post to remind me of this story.
