So now we're in Liberia, and I'm probably not the only one who's confused by the whole bit.

It's not that I'm against it, mind you. We're everywhere else -- why not Africa? I saw "The Air Up There," and I thought it was sweet. And the nice thing about these Liberians is that you can actually pronounce their names. "Charles Taylor." Simple. No pops or clicks. What could be more American than Chuck Taylor?

Still, something lingers in my brain. It's distant. "Education," I think it's called. It's far off and foggy, but Liberia is ringing some long-cracked history class bell. Maybe I'll just look this "Liberia" up. What would it hurt to whip Mr. Wicker's 7th grade history teachings out of the head-case and polish 'em?

Ah ha! So that's why it all sounds so American! Liberia was founded by something called the American Colonization Society. It was an organization that, with the federal goverment's help, shipped freed slaves back to Africa. You know the capital Monrovia? Named after President James Monroe! And here's the real boogie -- most of them were second or third generation Americans. So while they were certainly kind of dusky like the rest of them Africans, Africa was no more a home to them than it is to honkies like you and me. It kind of reminds me of when the Brits tried to give the Zionists Uganda in 1903. (Those wiley Jews held out for Palestine, which, of course, turned out to be much better real estate. Downright explosive real estate.)

I wish someone would ship me out of here and give me my own country. Preferably in South Pacific. I'd become the Ayatollah of my Holy Directorate, and I'd enslave the natives. With love.

Analogcabin @ 12:21 PM
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