Counterpoint: Who You Callin' a Ho? Cracker!
by Cynthia McKinney
Mr. Don Imus, you have insulted the Sistuh-hood for the last time! You bes' lay off my home girl, Sherry Palmer (Man, that Sherry Palmer is outta sight! She's been there, done that, met just about every kind of cat!) -- before I get my groove back all over yo' ass.
Feel my pimp hand! It's got my Boost Mobile cellular phone in it, too! Mm-hmm, I tell you where you at! You up my butt and 'round the corner, that's where you at, white boy! Don't look at me in that tone of voice! I can keep this up all night and not feel no ways tired! Mm-Hmm.
Noah Daniels is the key to all o' this, mmm-hmmm. Why else would a fine outstanding, clean and articulate soul brother like Dwayne Palmer put his cracker ass on a national ticket instead of a soul- sister like Maxine Waters. (Hey Girlfriend! I see you! No justice no peace! Mm-Hmm.) Or Sheila Jackson-Lee, who put our astronauts on Mars already! That's right, we got the Martian Sistuh-hood now, so don't you miss with us, Mr. Don Cracker Imus.
Where was I at? Oh, yeah, Noah Daniels. Cracker-in-Chief. Why was he on the Dwayne Palmer ticket? Let me spell it out for you. J-O-O-S! It always leads back to the J-O-O-S.
Noah Daniels. Don Imus. The J-O-O-S. It all makes perfect sense when you think about it. Just ask Al Sharpton.