Enjoy the e-mail exchange of the day. It’s triple-snort-worthy:
From Gail T. in Alexandria, Virginia…
Let me begin by saying that I know you won’t reply to this, probably won’t read this, as cowards like you like to speak from a bully pulpit, shielded by faceless, nameless men who facilitate your ability to spew their ideological madness. I say “their” because you don’t even realize, or maybe don’t care how you prostitute yourself – figuratively as well as, I am sure, literally – parroting their racist views and believe them to be your own.
You see, simple Michelle, the sad fact is that you look in the mirror every morning, and see yourself as a self-made, bright young woman for whom race has never been an issue. Your last name – Malkin – is Jewish, no? Husband or adopted parent gave you that prize, I suspect. Lucky for you it fits in better with your white girl fantasy, separates you even further from who you are. The saddest fact, however, is that your “place” in the satellite world of Rush Limbaugh, Rupert Murdoch, Karl Rove and Dick Cheney exists because they can use you. Don’t you wonder why in times like this they trot your slanted-eyed self out, along with several willing negro and hispanic housemaids and boys, and have you deliver their poison in the belief that fair thinking, intelligent People of Color are as stupid and easily bought as you? How can you be a witness to this wondrous moment in history, and have only one thought – to destroy it for your own gain? Thirty pieces of silver, Michelle. Is it worth it?
On the off chance that this does get to your narrow-minded eyes I am sure you will have a big laugh with the white boys and girls in your office (the same ones who refer to you as a “chink” behind your back). You’ll have a discussion about why n—–s like me are so stupid. You’ll go home and you’ll look at your children – who I am sure look a little like you, at least – or maybe you’ll glance in that mirror you seem to love so much. And you’ll have to be honest at some point with yourself and your God, and you’ll feel shame.
The only reason someone like you are (sic) allowed to work in the media is because of giants like Gwen Ifill – a real, live journalist whose reputation and track record is beyond reproach. Women who have to fight each day against what you destroy a little bit more with each of your stupid, dangerous columns.
You, on the other hand, are not fit to do her nails.
I hope that was therapeutic for you.
And the Boston Globe could chip in some free Obama Hope Bags.