Whoever thought up the oft-said and dishonest, "It's not who I am," must be the winner of repetitive, sorry-ass, apologies for abusers, racists, and gropers in America, Donald Trump being the leading example in the later category.
This morning Jerry Jones, owner of the Dallas Cowboys, used this statement to explain he is not a racist for a racist comment he made in 2013. Please note, not 1965, or 1980, but as recently as the first four years of Barrak Obama's presidency. By now, shouldn't you know better, or maybe not.
Let's get one thing straight, if you abuse anybody, you're an abuser; if you make racist comments or jokes, you are a racist; if you grab a women's genitals you are a sexual predator. It is who you are, not who you're not.
Here's Jone's statement made on video for a man who asked Jones if he'd tape a message for his fiancee. "Hey, Jennifer, congratulations on the wedding. Now, you know he's with a black girl tonight, don't you?" Joking, yes. But the color slipped out of your core prejudice, Jerry. In your mind, whether you knew it or not, the girl's skin color made your stupid notion of infidelity a greater sin, which was the point and beside the point of your message. Ha, ha. No one is laughing, except other racists.
So as not to end on a foul subject, here's a lovely poem about love and competition in the guise of a game we've all played.
Playing the Game by Barbara Goldowsky
You stick out your fist: stone
breaks my two fingers playing scissors.
You offer your hand, open.
I shred the palm: it's paper.
I am sill scissors.
Have you no heart? you ask.
But I am stone.
Your hand is still paper,
you wrap me up:
closer than blades,
harder than hearts.
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