The Southern Governor

The southern governor strode into the room and, with studied nonchalance, soon had the audience in the palm of his hand.

The southern governor strode to the front of the near-capacity meeting space and, with studied nonchalance, placed his hands upon the dais. He regarded the assembled reporters with an arched brow; this audience wasn’t quite in the palm of his hand yet. He would soon change that.

southern governor
The southern governor had them in the palm of his hands. Photo by Emily Marsolek (cropped),, CC BY-NC-ND 2.0.

“My positions have been discussed in the press and other media, so rather than make a statement you’ve all heard before, I’m going to open the floor up to questions.” He nodded at a man in a Men’s Wearhouse suit. “Brian?”

“Governor, you recently signed legislation to prohibit the teaching of Critical Race Theory in public schools throughout the state.” Governor Smelt nodded. “Yet, Critical Race Theory has never been taught in this state in the public schools. Could you explain why this law was necessary?”

Smelt sucked the inside of his cheek for a moment, then replied, “Critical Race Theory seeks to promulgate societal guilt on the part of the Caucasian race, and as a proud Caucasian, I find that frankly unacceptable.” The governor glared at the reporter.

The reporter followed up with, “So it is an effort to assuage the guilt of the white race for systemic racism?”

“There is no evidence of systemic racism,” declared the governor. “It is merely a matter of your own perception.”

“But Governor Smelt,” interjected a pretty female reporter from CNN, “some feel that the rights of African Americans are being impinged. Would you care to comment?”

“Look, Charlotte,” said Smelt, addressing the second reporter, “I concur with the so-called Alabama Declaration; it’s clear: nigroes have rights.” There was an uneasy stirring among the press corps. “They can drink out of our water fountains now, use our toilet facilities, and even sit down and order a burger at Mickey D’s. What the hell else do they want? What else is there?” Across the room, reporters scribbled madly away as cameras and microphones caught the action.

“Other minorities claim to also be suffering the injustices of discrimination,” another reporter barked out.

“C’mon, Chet,” implored Smelt. “There’re more chinks at university in our state capital than regular citizens. There are lots of Cubans and Indians, too. Hell,” he added, batting away strident questions from other reporters. “The damn Indians got their casinos; I lost my ass at the one over in Tallahassee. It all goes for a good cause, I suppose: keep those Redskins off beer, pot, heroin, and other restricted substances.”

“I’ll have you know,” he went on hotly, “that I have a significant portion of my staff representing the minorities of my state.” He turned to his chief of staff and asked in a stage whisper, “Hal, where’s my African American?” Smelt glanced at his watch. “Any more questions about minorities, or can we move on? You know,” he said, “the election is in nine days, and today is Halloween, and If you don’t mind my saying so, things are getting a little ‘spooky’ in here.” And he laughed heartily. The reporters all stared blankly at one another.

“Governor,” said another reporter, this one from Fox News, “the state legislature has passed a bill limiting abortion to twelve hours after conception; do you intend to sign it?” Smelt nodded in satisfaction; he’d been waiting for this question.

“Well, you know how it is, Candy.” You relax the rules, and before you know it, the Left will be clamoring for abortion on demand. Feminist Nazis will be crawling inside women and ripping the fetuses from their fallopian tubes — baby! — it’s a brutal procedure!” The southern governor winked elaborately at the young blonde. She tittered merrily in response.

“What about the state’s relaxation of the laws governing sex trafficking and underage sex partners?” asked a man from MSNBC. Smelt did a double take.

“How did you get in here?” he demanded angrily.”That’s a federal law. Besides, you’ll have to talk to Gaetz about that; he’s my point man on that issue. Okay,” said Smelt, “we’ve got time for one more question.” He pointed a chunky finger at a woman standing in front. She was wearing a bright rainbow pin on her blazer. He sneered at her.

“The state has banned more than 300 books from the school and public libraries this year. “When is this going to stop?” she asked.

“It’ll stop,” said Smelt, when all the pornographers, protesters, and faggots go back underground where they came from. I propose that we return to the days when schools and public libraries carried books that we could all be proud of, such as books about God-fearing Christians, hot cars, and necked women. It’s like my daddy used to say, “God made Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve. Y’all come out to my charity book burning tomorrow, ya hear? Good night.”

Bill Tope