Paxety Pages

Cynthia McLoony: Adventures In Mental Illness

For those of you who may have just been revived from stasis after an interplanetary journey from some other star system back to California, or who are freshly awakened from a drug-induced coma that was undertaken for medical reasons, Cynthia McKinney, a bug-eyed loony of the first order of magnitude, has had conflict with authority once again, this time in the guise of a Capitol Hill policeman, who, unfortunately for him, is white. McKinney went around a metal detector, standard procedure for Washington bigwigs, but was not wearing an identifying lapel pin which tagged her as a member of Congress, was not recognized by the guard, refused to stop when he called to her three times to do so, and reportedly struck the guard with a cell phone when he - desirous of fulfilling his job requirement to identify all persons who bypass the metal detector - finally caught up with her and grabbed her by the arm.

Cynthia's defense seems to be twofold: 1) he should have recognized her from the back, and 2) a white man should never lay a hand on Cynthia McKinney

So, assuming that many of you may have been preoccupied with major events in the world, or perhaps the start of the baseball season, and subsequently missed Cynthia McKinney's press conference regarding her latest fray and subsequent charges of racism, here is an all-purpose Civil Rights press conference that has been adapted to answer your questions about the incident.

On the podium, answering questions on Ms. McKinney's behalf are:

A. Joseph Lowery, Al Sharpton, Louis Farakhan or a black-leader de jour (pick one to speak)

B. A popular black face for moral support: Danny Glover, Harry Belefonte, Issac Hayes, any popular rapper with a good scowl on his face (interchangeable) Pick any two.

C. An amen responder chorus: (everyone else on stage)

Reverend Joseph Lowery, Al Sharpton, Minister Louis Farakhan, or the black-leader de jour, approaches the podium and formally announces the beginning of the conference by tapping on a microphone.

Reporter: Sir, is it true that Ms. McKinney . . . . "

Lowery, Sharpton, Farakhan, or the black-leader de jour: "True? There's man's truth and there’s God's truth. I'm speaking God's truth. What are you speaking? More importantly, who are you speaking for? (Assemblage: "Amen brother") I think we know who you are speaking for. And I think we all know what the truth is. (Assemblage: grumbles and nods of affirmation)

Reporter: I was simply trying to find out why, when Ms. McKinney went around the metal detector at the door, didn't she simply . . .

Lowery, Sharpton, Farakhan, or the black-leader de jour: In America today, the old ways haven't yet given way to the bold ways . . . (Assemblage: "Amen. Tell it, brother"). But we envision a gold way . . . a way where African-American people, like Cynthia McKinney, can come in the front door way. But, shamefully, there's still some people God hasn't yet touched, particularly a man on Pennsylvania Avenue, who expect a black woman to come in through the back door. (Assemblage: "Tell it like it is, brother") And for an African-American in the United States of Ah-mare-ree-ka today, how far is it . . . I said, How far is it? (Assemblage: How far, brother, how far?) from the back door . . . to the front door? How far is it? (Assemblage: How far, brother, how far?) I'll tell you how far. (Assemblage: That's right; back doe to front doe) It's as far as the journey of the slave ships on the Middle Passage to the plantation . . . it's as far as the march from Selma to Atlanta . . . it's as far as from Martin Luther King's tomb to a bombed-out church in Alabama! (Assemblage: squealing, agitated vocalizations) That's how far! (Pounds podium)

Reporter: Yes, sir. Thank you for the history lesson. But . . .

Lowery, Sharpton, Farakhan or the black-leader de jour: Because we know . . . and Cynthia McKinney knows, and George Bush knows, and God knows . . . that when They say back door, they really mean black door! (Assemblage: shame, brother, shame). Well, I got news for America: We don't come in the black door no more. We come in the front door. And we want the power promised us in the Constitution, and restitution . . . .not neo-con complaints, or the slave master's constraints.

Reporter: Sir, perhaps . . .

Lowery, Sharpton, Farakhan, or the black-leader de jour: And no matter how many stumbling blocks you put in front of us, no matter how many of our rights you abrogate, no matter how many of our young men you enslave with your drugs or entice with your basketballs. . . and no matter how many Bull-Conners-policemen the White House sends to stop Cynthia McKinney . . . we gonna keep coming in the front door. (Hallelujah, keep on coming! Right on! The front door!)

General pandemonium breaks out on the stage. The reporters, showing unusual wisdom, hastily leave.

And that's about as much logic - and explanation - as you can expect from Cynthia McKinney and her supporters: Divert the questions, ignore the logic, make general and irrelevant comments, and defame and accuse your detractors. Nothing new here. And always holler racism. Remember Mahone's definition of a racist (as used by liberals): A racist is, any white person, who disagrees with any black person, for any reason.

Note bene: If you would like to custom-tailor the press conference to Reverend Lowery or Minister Farakhan, the following may be interjected (more or less, at random) into the text.

Reverend Joseph Lowery: I find it exceedingly strange that the White House, with the power of the United States military at its beck and call, cannot find one weapon of mass destruction - but they have no trouble finding a black woman to arrest.

Minister Farakhan: You will note that Sister McKinney was accused of striking this racist policeman once. This is revealing. One is the number of omnipotence, the number of God. Therefore, Sister McKinney was merely acting on God's behalf . Do you see? And she struck him with what? A telephone. A symbol of communication. This was God's communication to the racist powers in Ah-mare-ree-ka: Change your ways; free the black man, or else you will be smitten again. Do you see?

And on it goes to infinity. Do you see?