Kick the Ball

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Bill O’Reilly’s racism is so apparently unselfconscious that you would think he spent his formative years with Archie Bunker and his ilk, rather than the denizens of Harvard Square. 

There was his notorious amazement that patrons of Sylvia’s restaurant actually knew how to use utensils and speak civilly. And now there’s this:

While discussing ninth-grade students at a school in New Jersey who were suspended for distributing topless photographs of their classmates, Bill O’Reilly stated, “But it’s an amazing amount of kids involved with this — 20 — in an affluent school district. This isn’t, you know, the inner city; you would think that these kids would have some kind of a values system.”

The blogs are swinging at this, and in so doing, may be engaging a contemporary version of Joel Chandler Harris’ tar baby. Can you say “dog whistle?” Better yet, can you say “C’mon Charlie Brown; I promise not to pull the football away this time.”

Liberals hear O’Reilly and hear racism. Everybody else hears values. And you know, there is something wrong with 11, 12, and 13 year old girls having topless photos of themselves being distributed around school like baseball cards used to be. That’s the whistle! Not race per se. Class. The coarseness of the lumpenproletariat seeping into the middle class. And the tweet!! tweet!! is that liberals don’t care about right or wrong, because they ignore the photos; they just care about political correctness.

In my mother in law’s deteriorating, formerly working class neighborhood, there are people of all ethnic backgrounds loudly cursing, fighting, drinking, and letting their little kids run unsupervised all over the neighborhood well into the night. As the kids grow a little bigger, the scrapes with the law begin. Now my inlaws are not sociologists. They see the way the people act in their neighborhood, and they think it stinks. And any jerk who can’t see that — they believe — is not worth taking seriously.

So go ahead and kick the O’Reilly, Charlie Browns. Just don’t be surprised if you land flat on your back. Again.

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