maxsnafu
04-21-2011, 01:30 AM
http://takimag.com/article/down_low_under_the_rainbow_jesse_jackson_accused_of_gay_harassment/print
Upon hearing that an openly (and screamingly!) gay black male ex-employee of Rainbow/PUSH had filed a complaint against Jesse Jackson and his organization for discrimination and sexual harassment, questions began popping into my mind as if they were illicit erections in a lonely motel room out near the airport:
Is Jesse Jackson the type of guy who’d fire someone merely for refusing to blow him?
Is his accuser, “Aruba” Tommy Bennett, the sort of fella who’d file a fraudulent discrimination complaint merely for cash and attention, as his famous ex-employer has so often been accused of doing?
Why would someone want to work for a boss who fires you merely for refusing to blow him, anyway?
I’ve never had an employer who requested fellatio, so is there something wrong with me, or is it because I’ve never worked for Jesse Jackson?
“Bennett’s allegations against Jackson mark another enjoyable instance of progressive identity victimization politics eating its own intestines.”
Bennett’s full complaint, filed with Chicago’s Commission of Human Rights in 2010 and still unsettled, is available as a PDF. The juicier allegations, which involve white brief underwear, inner-thigh rashes, the phrase “little motherfucker,” Cialis, heavy breathing, masturbation, blaming white people for changing the meaning of the word “gay,” Rev. Jackson’s high-school teacher paying him $10 to suck Jesse’s dick, and for me what is the most punishable charge—that Jackson engaged in the supremely annoying habit of tickling Bennett’s palm with his finger while shaking his hand—are highlighted HERE.
There’s no denying it—“Aruba” Tommy Bennett, a frequent guest on the nationally syndicated Tom Joyner Morning Show, is as gay as a sprig of holly on a winter vest. Bennett’s complaint states that while employed at Rainbow/PUSH (snickers will not be tolerated!), a Ms. Caroline Wiggins, who toiled as a “Membership and Volunteer Coordinator,” taunted Tommy with limp-wrist gestures and once led an open prayer session where she requested that the Lord Jesus Christ “bind these homosexual spirits that are in the office…[and] get these homosexuals out of here.” Bennett claims that when he was fired, the Rainbow/PUSHers told him it was due to lack of funding, but then they hired someone else immediately after dismissing him. His feelings were hurt like any fag’s would be, and for this he seeks $350K, as well as nearly $100K for both front and back pay (stop it!) and lost benefits.
In a formal statement, Jackson and his “people”—whom I assume are tinted more like a coffee bean than a rainbow—denied Bennett’s allegations. They made it clear that they love the gays and would never, under any conditions, be mean to them. For legal reasons, I need to mention that before getting back to the fag jokes.
What can we say about Jesse Jackson besides everything that most major media are too faggy to say about him? We can say that his legend-building moment—the claim that he cradled a dying MLK in his arms—was refuted by Hosea Williams and Ralph David Abernathy. We can say that he told LIFE magazine in 1969 that while working as a waiter in his younger days, he achieved “psychological gratification” for spitting in white patrons’ food. We can say that when he gets nailed for calling New York “Hymietown,” he excuses it by saying that in “private talks we sometimes let our guard down,” and that when he’s caught whispering that he wants to cut off Obama’s nuts, he blames it on a “hot mic.” We can say he’s been accused of passively aiding and abetting the mass murder of blacks and the punitive amputation of little African children’s hands by being super-friendly with thug dictators in Nigeria, Liberia, Sierra Leone, and the Ivory Coast. We can say he’s been accused of shaking the money tree of huge corporate entities such as Coca-Cola, Anheuser-Busch, Toyota, and NASCAR under threat of, oh, hell, calling them racists or something. We can say that he lives and travels in conditions that are preposterously wealthy compared to the poor and oppressed huddled shivering socialist masses that he claims to represent. We can say with assurance that when a half-dozen young black males get arrested for beating the shit out of each other or beating the shit out of a lone white male, Jesse will be there, defending their God-given right to beat the shit out of people without getting arrested for it.
No, actually, we can’t say any of that without being called racist, so disregard it all (even though it’s all true).
I have not heard Reverend Jackson personally make a public statement on Bennett’s allegations, but even if I were to hear it, I would have trouble understanding it, because the porpoise-faced preacher has an oddly exotic South Carolinian inflection that my ears find impossible to decipher. I think he’s a highly talented speaker—black males tend more toward oratory than oral sex—even though I can never understand a goddamned word he’s saying. Does anyone here speak Gullah?
If I may talk “straight” with you here, I don’t care a white man’s whit whether the bouncy, bubbly, boisterous, and butt-grindin’ Mr. “Aruba” Tommy Bennett’s typo-riddled and ever-so-slightly theatrical complaint is true. That isn’t the point. If Jesse Jackson insists on having a gay valet who blows him, rubs medicinal cream on the rash between his legs, and cleans up the wet spot after he bangs female groupies, I believe it’s his constitutional right to have one. In this economy, countless eager gay black males would probably camp out overnight waiting to submit job applications to perform such duties, and we all know how much black people hate camping.
The point is that Bennett’s allegations against Jackson mark another enjoyable instance of progressive identity victimization politics eating its own intestines. Jesse Jackson may be black, but Tommy Bennett is black and gay. Many perceive Jesse Jackson as a blood-sucking, race-baiting Dracula, yet suddenly, deep from within his own organization’s bowels, he’s given birth to a tiny gay vampire who’s turned around and is nipping at his heels. Tommy’s holding an extra card, and whether or not he actually has a winning hand or is bluffing, he seems determined to play it. At the risk of flouting all currently accepted standards of cultural taste and restraint, I feel compelled to state that this is a case of the fried chicken coming home to roost.
Upon hearing that an openly (and screamingly!) gay black male ex-employee of Rainbow/PUSH had filed a complaint against Jesse Jackson and his organization for discrimination and sexual harassment, questions began popping into my mind as if they were illicit erections in a lonely motel room out near the airport:
Is Jesse Jackson the type of guy who’d fire someone merely for refusing to blow him?
Is his accuser, “Aruba” Tommy Bennett, the sort of fella who’d file a fraudulent discrimination complaint merely for cash and attention, as his famous ex-employer has so often been accused of doing?
Why would someone want to work for a boss who fires you merely for refusing to blow him, anyway?
I’ve never had an employer who requested fellatio, so is there something wrong with me, or is it because I’ve never worked for Jesse Jackson?
“Bennett’s allegations against Jackson mark another enjoyable instance of progressive identity victimization politics eating its own intestines.”
Bennett’s full complaint, filed with Chicago’s Commission of Human Rights in 2010 and still unsettled, is available as a PDF. The juicier allegations, which involve white brief underwear, inner-thigh rashes, the phrase “little motherfucker,” Cialis, heavy breathing, masturbation, blaming white people for changing the meaning of the word “gay,” Rev. Jackson’s high-school teacher paying him $10 to suck Jesse’s dick, and for me what is the most punishable charge—that Jackson engaged in the supremely annoying habit of tickling Bennett’s palm with his finger while shaking his hand—are highlighted HERE.
There’s no denying it—“Aruba” Tommy Bennett, a frequent guest on the nationally syndicated Tom Joyner Morning Show, is as gay as a sprig of holly on a winter vest. Bennett’s complaint states that while employed at Rainbow/PUSH (snickers will not be tolerated!), a Ms. Caroline Wiggins, who toiled as a “Membership and Volunteer Coordinator,” taunted Tommy with limp-wrist gestures and once led an open prayer session where she requested that the Lord Jesus Christ “bind these homosexual spirits that are in the office…[and] get these homosexuals out of here.” Bennett claims that when he was fired, the Rainbow/PUSHers told him it was due to lack of funding, but then they hired someone else immediately after dismissing him. His feelings were hurt like any fag’s would be, and for this he seeks $350K, as well as nearly $100K for both front and back pay (stop it!) and lost benefits.
In a formal statement, Jackson and his “people”—whom I assume are tinted more like a coffee bean than a rainbow—denied Bennett’s allegations. They made it clear that they love the gays and would never, under any conditions, be mean to them. For legal reasons, I need to mention that before getting back to the fag jokes.
What can we say about Jesse Jackson besides everything that most major media are too faggy to say about him? We can say that his legend-building moment—the claim that he cradled a dying MLK in his arms—was refuted by Hosea Williams and Ralph David Abernathy. We can say that he told LIFE magazine in 1969 that while working as a waiter in his younger days, he achieved “psychological gratification” for spitting in white patrons’ food. We can say that when he gets nailed for calling New York “Hymietown,” he excuses it by saying that in “private talks we sometimes let our guard down,” and that when he’s caught whispering that he wants to cut off Obama’s nuts, he blames it on a “hot mic.” We can say he’s been accused of passively aiding and abetting the mass murder of blacks and the punitive amputation of little African children’s hands by being super-friendly with thug dictators in Nigeria, Liberia, Sierra Leone, and the Ivory Coast. We can say he’s been accused of shaking the money tree of huge corporate entities such as Coca-Cola, Anheuser-Busch, Toyota, and NASCAR under threat of, oh, hell, calling them racists or something. We can say that he lives and travels in conditions that are preposterously wealthy compared to the poor and oppressed huddled shivering socialist masses that he claims to represent. We can say with assurance that when a half-dozen young black males get arrested for beating the shit out of each other or beating the shit out of a lone white male, Jesse will be there, defending their God-given right to beat the shit out of people without getting arrested for it.
No, actually, we can’t say any of that without being called racist, so disregard it all (even though it’s all true).
I have not heard Reverend Jackson personally make a public statement on Bennett’s allegations, but even if I were to hear it, I would have trouble understanding it, because the porpoise-faced preacher has an oddly exotic South Carolinian inflection that my ears find impossible to decipher. I think he’s a highly talented speaker—black males tend more toward oratory than oral sex—even though I can never understand a goddamned word he’s saying. Does anyone here speak Gullah?
If I may talk “straight” with you here, I don’t care a white man’s whit whether the bouncy, bubbly, boisterous, and butt-grindin’ Mr. “Aruba” Tommy Bennett’s typo-riddled and ever-so-slightly theatrical complaint is true. That isn’t the point. If Jesse Jackson insists on having a gay valet who blows him, rubs medicinal cream on the rash between his legs, and cleans up the wet spot after he bangs female groupies, I believe it’s his constitutional right to have one. In this economy, countless eager gay black males would probably camp out overnight waiting to submit job applications to perform such duties, and we all know how much black people hate camping.
The point is that Bennett’s allegations against Jackson mark another enjoyable instance of progressive identity victimization politics eating its own intestines. Jesse Jackson may be black, but Tommy Bennett is black and gay. Many perceive Jesse Jackson as a blood-sucking, race-baiting Dracula, yet suddenly, deep from within his own organization’s bowels, he’s given birth to a tiny gay vampire who’s turned around and is nipping at his heels. Tommy’s holding an extra card, and whether or not he actually has a winning hand or is bluffing, he seems determined to play it. At the risk of flouting all currently accepted standards of cultural taste and restraint, I feel compelled to state that this is a case of the fried chicken coming home to roost.