Steve H. Has Decided… He Gets To Tell A Pulitzer Prize Winning Black Woman What To Call Herself.

Yep, we will get to all that Old White Ass-ness, in a moment.

But first, it continually amazes me that the Powerline old and doddering white boys‘ club gets so apoplectic about anyone but… old white men… explaining to America… how it may view American slavery. [We may safely surmise they need an antiquated racists’ narrative, to help them feel less… inadequate, as they wander off into irrelevancy. BTW, how many Pulitzers have these boys, among all four of them? How many?! Oh. Right. One fewer than Ms. Nikole Hannah-Jones possesses — all by herself.]

The addled old fools cannot abide any new, alternative, more accurate or emerging narrative. In sum, the Powerline boys view the orthodoxy they themselves helped carve into stone… as immutable.

I don’t. Most Americans… don’t. Most of us have the ability to… reason. To learn from prior blind spots, and refine our understanding. But not these highly privileged white boys.

And I’ll leave the full critique of their views for another day.

But it takes a special kind of entitled white ass-hat to dare tell… a Pulitzer Prize winner of a journalist by what name (as a handle on Twitter, no less!) she may refer to herself, thus:

“…I think a lot of people would find it presumptuous?….”

My advice for Steve? Ahem — you’re an insufferably flatulent old ass. Take a seat. Try not to speak.

You’re welcome.

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