The past few weeks have been quite extraordinary. The Supreme Court’s been awfully busy and folks are in a dither everywhere.
Gay marriage is now the law of the land. Obama celebrated this feat by lighting up the Whitehouse with rainbows; and over the Fourth of July weekend Chicagoans celebrated it by lighting up the streets with bullets.
Thankfully, none of Chicago’s 10 dead and 55 wounded was or is gay—or shot by cops. (I know this because Al Sharpton and GLAAD have said nary a word.) But still, shouldn’t a nation do something about the indiscriminate violence so rampant within its “urban youth” community?
We should and we have.
First, we’ve tackled what can only be called a national embarrassment since 1979. I’m speaking of course of “The Dukes of Hazzard.” Say what you will, but the General Lee is entirely too racy for today’s sensitivities.
Sure, I loved the Dukes as a kid! But that’s because I was too mesmerized by Daisy Mae to notice all the Black people not on the show. That’s how they get you.
Second, South Carolina has removed the Confederate Flag (or whatever it is) from their state capitol. I’ve never been to South Carolina’s state capitol and may never make the pilgrimage, so I don’t really care all that much. But the symbol of hate and/or heritage is gone!
Third, and not to be outdone by South Carolina, the Memphis City Council unanimously voted to remove the remains of Nathan Bedford Forrest and his wife from their perhaps not so final resting place. They did this because nothing—and I mean nothing—says “Black lives matter” more than desecrating the graves of White racists.
It’s the new American way: Symbolism over substance. Said another way, we prefer feeling better to fighting disease.