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The Durst of Times
By Will Durst
San Francisco, California, where the 65th annual U.S. conference of mayors was held the other weekend, with more than 300 participants attending. Apparently they're here to learn how cities can develop their own foreign policies.
Race. Unless you're talking about a living-room-to-kitchen contest during the commercial break to see who gets the last piece of pie, it's not a very pretty word. To say it has a tendency to get people riled up is like calling a mile-wide infestation of poisonous red ants irksome. Bill Clinton has sought to initiate a year-long nationwide discussion on race, which most likely means a marathon session of honing our name-calling skills with a fine, subtle precision. But except for naming a blue-ribbon commission, the President weighed in with less specifics than you'd get on the side of one of those ginseng tea boxes. Newt Gingrich, never one to let sleeping dogs lie, managed to kick every cage in a kennel when he jumped in with the "can't we all get along" speech he presented to the Orphan Foundation of America. Yes, Newt Gingrich was speaking at the Orphan Foundation of America. You can't make up stuff like this.
What I think the Prez should propose is this: Once a year on their birthday, everyone uses all the drugs and stimulants they want and then staggers into an airplane hangar that's been outfitted with mattresses and Barry White music but no lights, and nobody gets out until they have had sexual congress, and in two generations everyone will be approximately the same color. Of course it might sound better coming from me instead of him.
The Southern Baptist Corporation overwhelmingly approved a boycott of the Walt Disney Co. to protest what church leaders say are the company's gay-friendly policies. Baptists don't like friendly people. No, they believe in an ornery, vengeful Jesus with oozing blisters rubbing against the straps of his sandals, and they are quite willing to go to whatever lengths are necessary to keep people who don't think their way from being treated equally. Even if it means such twisted, self-flagellating actions as visiting Davenport, Iowa, instead of Orlando, Florida, or prohibiting their children from watching reruns of Duck Tales. This action is based on previously unreleased biblical tales of when Jesus and the boys went to a seaside village cafe called The Caanan Whip and bashed themselves a club full of gays who made fun of Jesus' bleeding feet. I think we can expect further boycotts by the Southern Baptist Corporation, such as one targeting Girl Scouts for selling cookies where the dark chocolate surrounds the white-colored nougat. Then Spielberg will be marked for E.T. and his glorification of an alien that looks like a set of genitals with eyes. We can only gawk open-mouthed at these brave Christian soldiers making this incredible stand against tolerance.
The 23rd annual convention of the leaders of the world's economic powers, which used to be known as G-7, but is now called Summit of the 8, or G-7 plus Vodka Boy, finished up their meeting in Denver, and by all accounts it was as harmonious an affair as could be expected with big-time guys suffering from altitude poisoning. Report cards were handed out which criticized Japan and America for ignoring international pollution standards. France, Germany and Italy were told to shape up and ease regulation and strict labor laws. This stab at International Union Busting was about as subtle as a bowling pin to the forehead. Britain was urged to keep inflation under control, and Canada was asked to get coffee from the kitchen where Russia was cleaning up. These were the official pronouncements, but you know private memos were circulated.
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No Tolerance,
Please,
We're Southern Baptists
Will Durst has attitude poisoning.
From the July 1997 issue of the Metropolitan.