considering the world-renowned verysmartness of panama jackson and the champ, it shouldn’t surprise you all to hear that celebrities occasionally seek us out for advice.
in fact, just last week we received an email from a “barry o” at email@example.com, asking us if he should put red or purple kool-aid on the menu at the next state dinner
***our reply? purple. it has a softer taste. and, if you add lemons, it almost tastes like south african wine***
still, i have to admit i was quite shocked yesterday when a letter from a firstname.lastname@example.org popped up in our inbox. and, although it usually isn’t our custom to publicly share what people send us, i’m going to print this today because i need you all to help me figure out how to reply:
dear very smart brothas,
you know, guys, my favorite book of all-time is ‘the great gatsby’. if you’re not familiar with it, it’s about a guy named jay gatsby who spends his entire adult life trying to convince himself and everyone around him that he isn’t who he really is. he knew he was living a lie, but he believed that the lie would eventually become true if he believed it hard enough.
i read that book when i was 12, and gatsby made such an impression on me that i tried to emulate him. you see, i had a few pretty ambitious goals, but before i’d be able to achieve them, there was a certain part of me i needed to erase. and, i hoped that it would eventually disappear if i tried hard enough to pretend it never even existed.
i’d recall black dick jokes in front of crowds of white men, which was my way of saying “hey, no need to be scared of me. i tell jokes about black penises and play golf just like the rest of you. i’m just like one of you guys”.
i invented a word (cablinasian) to describe my not really that unique ethnic background
(although, guys, i have to admit, all of the video hoes and urban models of the world need to send me royalty checks for that one. where else do you think they all got the idea to list themselves as “1/8th cherokee, 1/3rd irish, and 3/16th martian” in their bios, despite the fact that all of those broads are blacker than the back of oprahs knees? me, bitches)
sh*t, i even scoured the earth to find and marry the whitest woman on the planet. seriously, i don’t think you all realize how white elin is. she’s a freakin viking, for chrissakes. f*cking her was like sticking my d*ck in a jar of white-out sitting in the snow.
before november 27th, 2009, this process seemed to be working like a charm. i became the richest athlete in the history of the world, a fortune largely amassed through endorsements that my (seemingly) successful attempts to rid any evidence of that undesirable quality helped me to procure.
but, as i’m sure you both know, things changed a bit after november 27th. still, even though i lost my wife, as well as my clean image and numerous fans and sponsors, i still held a bit of that same gatsby hope that if i wished hard enough, things could go back to the way they were.
this misguided hope crashed and burned monday morning, when i turned on good morning america and saw a picture of the cover for february’s vanity fair. the realization hit me like a ton of bricks: from now on they’ll always see me as a BLACK MAN, and there’s nothing i can do about it.
***btw, i’m still pissed at those vanity fair bastards. of all the pictures they took, they had to choose the one that made me look like a paper-bag test passing DMX???
once you take away the blood, theres no real difference!!! no real difference!!! how the f*ck am i supposed to get the accenture account back now??***
anyway, i’m writing to you because i don’t know where to go from here, and i figured that the very smart brothas would be the best people to ask. i have no choice but to embrace this “being a brotha” thing now, but where and how do i start?sincerely, tiger
(wait….”tiger” is the old me. f*ck that. tiger is dead.)sincerely, el-dubbs
anyway, people of vsb.com, i need your help. i have no idea how i should respond to tiger, errr, el-dubbs. what do you think i should say?