Exclusive Evil - Stop Calling Me "Uncle Clarence"

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Apropos of nothing, except everything.

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Dear Hoodlums,

I have eyes. Each morning, after washing Ginni’s feet, I review your disses. Clearly letting everyone read was a mistake. No righteous cause, from the Conquistadors to Jim Crow, elevated itself with insults. Until your monkey brains grasp that, you deserve to rot in your hovels.

“Uncle Clarence” isn’t clever. My neighbors said it, my classmates said it, and my uncle said it. Even Ginni, albeit by request. Appropriation simply proves that negro creativity’s overrated. Ending that rumor makes killing affirmative action all the sweeter. I wish I could kick apes out of academia twice.

A question for the woke p-zombies plagiarizing my childhood bullies and mother: have you ever held a white hand? Felt it’s gentle, firm grip against your neck? Watched it twirl a whip with grace? Your words radiate envy. Envy of the velvet pillow beneath the master’s table, where the best morsels fall. So you judge without walking a mile in my chains.

I remember meeting my first White hero. He claimed to be an electrician, but I saw more. His radiance wasn’t made to fix the fuse boxes of filth. I sent him home to shine somewhere more worthy. It was a long winter, but the memory kept me warm. And mother made do.

Understand, my dogs? It isn’t self-hatred, or any kind of hatred. It’s the gentlest breed of love: the bond between slave and master race. Honest affection in a lonely, alienating world. Why be another death of despair, when we can be inspired?

Emerson had nature, Kipling had stoicism, Rand had freedom, and I have the White man. I pity them for never seeing their own glow. Absorbing White light is black America’s privilege, and worth more than university brainwashing. To learn, simply follow a master and take notes. Whether that means a virtuoso or an owner, you benefit.

I’m not writing this to clap back at you home slices. I know some of you can be saved. You can lead lives worthy of White friendship and love. And maybe, if you’re lucky, respect.

Don’t lose time. I took decades to find the right masters. By then I was a clerk, well versed in Jim Crow’s golden age and the plan to set things right. I wanted in, and they accepted me. No nicknames. No editorials. Just love.

Despite my softer White Power credentials, they saw something special in my character and background. They knew tapping more experiences and abilities would make White Power stronger. I'll never forget that clarity of vision, and the life it enabled. You’d do well to absorb the lesson.

I can hear the crows’ keyboards now. “Uncle Clarence.” “House Negro.” “Bribe collector.” Know this: from the Supreme Court, all of your houses look like fields. I’m proud of the friends that put me there. Let the Soul Train judge: they have nothing worth bribing.

Visionaries attract insults. They called Reagan a traitor over a few sales. They called Benedict Arnold a traitor for respecting the crown. They called eleven states traitors for defending their property. If I’m a traitor, I’m in golden White company. Call me “traitor” louder. Harder. Spit while you do it.

Faith is America’s foundation, and God is White. When I ban affirmative action, it’s a prayer. When I resegregate sidewalks, it’s gospel. And when I reaffirm Dred Scott, it’s a burnt offering. While Candace pays lip service to White Christ, Uncle Clarence serves.

Sincerely,
Justice Clarence Thomas
Husband, Father, Honorary Caucasian

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Now that the libel’s out the way, I’ve turned on referral rewards for sharing Extra Evil. Specifically:

• 3 referrals gets you a free month of paid access.

• 5 referrals gets you two secret articles.

• 25 referrals gets you I Drew Your Soul, an incredibly dumb instapoetry parody eBook.

Sound fun? Either way, thanks for reading.