Why not? It’s what they think anyway.
If I told them the truth — I don’t like his ideas (what few concrete ones we’ve been able to pry out of the cone of silence surrounding his true self, that is), his political associations with people like smug, silver-spoon terrorists like William Ayres and his psychotic wife Bernardine Dohrn, the fact that he was nurtured by the corrupt Chicago political community, the fact that he seems to have coasted through life on his good looks and sense of entitlement, and so on and so forth, I’d get “you just don’t like it that he’s a black man.” So okay, fine. Have it your way. God forbid I should disturb the pleasure you take in victimhood. Christmas is coming, the season of giving, and I’m such a giver.
