SO THIS RACISTS IS SITTING on a barstool at a neighborhood tavern when in through the front door walks a priest, a minister and a rabbi. "What is this -- a joke?" says the racist. . Suddenly a blonde walks in the front door. The bartender tells her, "Three. You'll need three and at least one lighbulb for each."
As the blonde leaves by the front door, Elton John enters from the rear, followed seconds later by Michael Jackson who is holding a sturdy leather leash with what looks like an alligator on the other end. "Excuse me," calls Jackson to the bartender "Do you serve komodo dragons? " Meanwhile, in the corner sits a jazz drummer awaiting the punchline and the signal for a rimshot, "Drump-CHISH!"
But seriously, racists don't tell racist jokes because they hate. They tell racist jokes because they love. . . to laugh. Especially at racist jokes, which are as common as herpes and as easy as to spread. All you need is one forced -- or even consensual -- incident of unprotected humor to be infected by schadenschwartzfreude (the guilt-filled glee one takes in laughing at a racist joke).
For instance, "Why are there only 49 contestants in the Miss Black America Beauty Pageant?" "Because nobody wants to be Miss Idaho." Drump-CHISH. A good racist joke has to pass liberal muster by being so clever you can't imagine some hate-filled troglodyte would even get it, let alone have the unique wit to create it. Back in the 1980's Philadelphia's first black mayor, Wilson Goode, had a President Bush style "nuke-u-lar" speech impediment that manifested itself, seemingly, every fifth word. The racially uncomfortable joke back then was Goode's response to a question about the Middle East. "Mr. Mayor, what's your opinion of Beirut?" "I think he was the greatest white baseball player of all time."
Oh, sorry. . . Drump-CHISH! Since the November election there's been a joke going around some of the less circumspect watering holes frequented by paler Philadelphians. It's a joke that I believe ought to be on the public record because it's -- kes ca say? -- unique to our town. Unlike the way I heard it, I'll substitute the B word for the mayor. "First we elected a good brother. Then we elected a street brother. Now we got a nutter brother." If it weren't true, it would't be funny. And if someone accuses me of being a racist, I will respond by quoting the advice of my Colorado attorney, William Tecumseh Levy, who told me, "Not only deny the allegation, deny the alligator."
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