You want me. I know it, and who are you to deny it? Or, as Eric plantatively asks…can’t anything remain satire anymore?
No, obviously not. His question was sparked by “helicopter parents”, who…I guess hover?…over their children. Anyway, such parents now babysit their spawn during job interviews. And that is amazingly pathetic…most weeks. But not this one:
“If candidate Warren grew up thinking she is Native American by heritage, who are we to say she is not? And who are we to define her based on narrow constructs of race.”
Who are you? Either you, ma’am, are Beyond Parody…or Steve Martin is African-American:
Please note that Navin R. Johnson’s claim to blackitude is much, much better than the copper-hued fantasies of The Honky Who Would Be Senator. Here’s the Fauxcahontas family:
Now (courtesy of Flickr and bam_uk) here’s Navin & Co.:
I can’t say exactly when satire died. Maybe when Clinton got away with rape or O.J. Simpson got away with murder. But parody has definitely been corpsified long enough to turn The Jerk into a sign of rigor mortis.
Then I’m African.
Now I can see something good about the Fauxcahontas debacle.
It inspired a reference to The Jerk!