Tim Allen et. al. with a brand new “nigger” routine

They just can’t let it go.

So Tim Allen has decided to publicly defuse that most egregious of English words: the six-letter one that starts with n and ends with r.

A former coke dealer and sitcom yukkster, now Tim wants to rehabilitate America. With “nigger”.

This has been done before, but by edgy, wild-eyed types such as Lenny Bruce and Richard Pryor. Neither quite defanged the term — Bruce was operating in the midst of the cultural revolution that would set the modern view of race in concrete, while Pryor, a figure of the 70s, was transparently playing off of white guilt.

If you didn’t realize that Pryor was playing himself, you might assume he wanted to embarrass you. Some people never come to terms with their place in the world. 35 years on, The American Thinker can finally admit to being pissed at him, and here we are.

Why are the patriots still so obsessed with “nigger”? I don’t know. Black people say it. So what? I’m not going to say it, because history. Because hangings. Because awful. I try to be a decent person.

Whites don’t feel very guilty anymore, a full century and a half after the demise of slavery and fifty years after the collapse of legal segregation. A solution to the racial impasse of the past half-century, in which every last American, white, black, or “other,” has been forced to act as if both those historical inequities ended only last Tuesday — if in fact they’d ended at all — is long overdue. A solution to the n-word conundrum is a central element of this.

The conundrum must be solved. At some point, white people have to be able to call someone a nigger. Right? We let you sit in the front of the bus, now we should be able to say it. There’s no more damning evidence that conservatism is a disease, like a cultural form of Tourette’s. Boy we really want to call you a nigger.

It has been abused by race hustlers of all stripes for generations. Every few years the debate churns up again, triggered by some loudmouth rapper or an unfortunate honest grandmother.

You pay to see the loudmouth in the comedy club, Gramma Mayella lives next door for free. Can’t we all get along?

This state of affairs reveals an odd sense of weakness among blacks. We’ve been told constantly that black Americans are tougher than inbred whites, stronger, manlier, and more athletic, and the success of black sports figures suggests that there’s at least a small grain of truth in this. But it’s a strange kind of strength that utterly collapses with the use of a single word.

That will do. The argument that America is beyond racism while a certain race isn’t all that superior is quite enough.

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