(image via nymag)
Dear Jesse Jackson:
As someone who remembers as his first and most poignant political memory sitting up in 1988, at age 17, watching your historic second-place finish in the Democratic primary against Michael Dukakis, I believe that I have earned the right to speak most frankly. As someone who marvelled at the content and delivery of your 1984 Democratic Convention speech, I think I can say this without speaking out of school.
I remained silent when you dragged us through your "hot ghetto mess" -- condoms, anyone; vasectomy? -- but now on the eve of Obama's winning the American Presidency I'd like to take the time to ask you to please shut the fuck up.
There, I said it.
On Israel, on Zionism, you, my good man, Reverend Jackson, are particularly unqualified to speak. On behalf of a good deal of African-Americans who do not have your peculiar baggage on the subject of Israel you really should consider retirement, or just calmly shutting the fuck up when an open mike enters your mouthspace.
So -- just shut the fuck up. You sound jealous and -- worse -- senile. No: Really. Shut the fuck up, Jesse Jackson.
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