Clarence Thomas...

"There's smoke on the water, it's been there since June.
Tree trunks uprooted in the high crescent moon.
Hear the pulse and vibration and rumbling force.
Somebody's out there beating on a dead horse."
The Man in the Long Black Coat - Joan Osborne

Well, he’s gone and done it, written a book. Quite possibly the book nobody has been waiting for, but none-the-less, here it is, “My Grandfather’s Son: A Memoir," (more accurately a screed), by United States Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas. Before you rush out and buy it, I’d suggest you do as I did and visit your local Barnes and Noble, peruse a copy over a double latte, (you can do all the ‘good parts’ in about an hour), and then put it back on the shelf. God knows Thomas doesn’t need the money. He reportedly got a whooping $1.5 million for it already, for just putting a pen to paper, and buying it would simply serve to further enable him to spew invectives all the way to the bank.

The fact that I am a staunch liberal, even “yellow dog,” Democrat not withstanding, I really wanted to find common ground with Thomas, and, perhaps somewhat wistfully, assumed I could. After all we both grew up in small South Georgia towns in families of modest means, and, even though I’m not black, that still makes us almost homies. My hopes were quickly dashed, however, by the bitter, spiteful tenor of his tome, and in particular his vicious sliming of an adversary he roundly defeated some 16 years on. (I’m sure you’ve heard the expression “beating a dead horse,” and, Clarence, it truly applies to you.)

Before I go off on the confirmation hearings debacle, let me say, unequivocally that I believe Anita Hill, always have, always will. And as a woman of some ambitions myself, I totally understand why she may have “put up” with Mr. Long Dong Silver's questionable behavior for a period of time, whether out of naiveté, fear, or, more likely the sure and certain conviction that if she spoke out nobody would do anything about it and nothing would change, except that she’d probably find herself out of a job. Been there, done that.

But let’s just say for a minute she was lying, a pure tool of left wing liberals who made the whole thing up. Earth to Clarence, you won. You’re a member of the United States Supreme Court and arguably one of the most powerful men in America, if not the world. That’s what that long black coat is all about, dude. It ain’t just a look. So, have a gloat, a good laugh with your conservative buddies, and get on with a lifetime, that’s right, a lifetime, of imposing your pernicious and narrow-minded judgments on the rest of us. You’re a sore winner, Clarence, and a vindictive one at that. Whoop-de-damn-do indeed.

If there’s one thing I abhor more than a sore winner, it’s the ungracious and ungrateful. And you, Justice Thomas, are the epitome of an ungracious and ungrateful man, and you evidence an unforgiving and mean-spirited attitude that I find astonishing for a man of your supposed religious convictions. (Although I guess a practicing Catholic who has his first marriage annulled, effectively rendering his only child illegitimate in the eyes of the church, must make some exceptions.) I mean as I understand it, expressing gratitude and giving thanks for one’s blessings is a cornerstone of your faith, and I'm thinking it might just be something you’d be well advised to pay a little more attention to.

Life is hard, even for the most privileged born. Life is unfair (just ask Anita Hill), and success is invariably as much the result of luck (some call it grace) as hard work. When I get a break, whether by sweat or serendipity, I’m grateful. I’m very big on gratitude.

But you, Justice Thomas, are not merely ungrateful for the good fortunate bestowed on you by fate and, yes, perseverance, you are downright contemptuous. Quite frankly your disdain for your Yale law degree sickens me. So what if you were accepted as the result of affirmative action? My husband too was accepted to Yale at a time when allowances were being made to accommodate transfer students and those of modest economic means and diverse backgrounds, (he met all three criteria). No he’s not black, but, yes, he too had a difficult time finding what he considered appropriate employment after graduation. And never once have I heard him express anything but gratitude for the incredible opportunity to pursue an education that he never could’ve dreamed of as a boy and that, in the long run, has served him well. And by the way, you haven’t done too badly yourself. (Did I mention you were a member of the United States Supreme Court?) Would your success have been any sweeter had you gotten your law degree from Howard University (a fine institution in itself)? I’m guessing then you’d be whining that you couldn’t find a job because your degree was tainted by virtue of having been conferred by a predominately black school. Just, like I’m betting that the student (whoever he or she might be) who didn’t get into Yale Law School because you did probably wouldn’t have felt the same way. So get down on your knees and say “thank you, Jesus,” (or whomever), and mean it.

And let’s talk for a minute about that grandfather of yours. I’ve been waiting for some reviewer to read your book and say, “now we know why he’s so fucked up.” ‘Cause I think I do. Here is a man who, by your own admission, beat you, verbally berated you, cruelly refused to let you participate in sports or join the scouts, made you work like an unpaid, dare I suggest, slave, and eventually threw you out of his home when you had the audacity to drop out of the seminary. Yet you virtually canonize the man and give him most, if not all, of the credit for your eventual success and accomplishments. Maybe, Clarence, just maybe, you have some issues to deal with that don’t have anything to do with Yale, or Anita Hill, or white women, left winged zealots, or light skinned black folks. Finally, I am left with the indelible impression that you are, after all, just as you say, your Grandfather’s son. And that, Justice Thomas, is probably the scariest prospect of all.

Other than intensive psychotherapy and the afore-mentioned course in gratitude, what might do you good would be nice helping of humble pie. So called because it used to be made with “umbles,” that being the liver, heart, intestines and other offal meats of cow, deer or whatever dead animal might be available for dinner for the poor folk back in the middle ages.

Since I don’t want to go there, I’ll settle for “a” humble pie, and one of the most humble, and delicious, pies I know if is southern homemade egg custard pie. (I’m sure Clarence ate a lot of it growing up.) It’s not fancy, and it’s very simple to make, but it’s SO good, plain or with a dollop of whipped cream on top. (Too good for Republicans, really, but I’m willing to make exceptions myself.) I just hope before he eats it, Justice Thomas finds a minute to give thanks by saying grace, ‘cause I’d really hate to have to poison his food.


EGG CUSTARD PIE

1 unbaked 9-inch pie shell (buy it or make your own)
4 large eggs
2 cups whole milk
1 cup sugar
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon real vanilla
1/2 teaspoon grated nutmeg (fresh if you have it)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Beat eggs in large bowl. Whisk in sugar and salt, followed by milk, vanilla and grated nutmeg.

Pour filling into unbaked pie shell and bake in the preheated over for 45 to 50 minutes until the filling is set (until a knife inserted in the center comes out clean).

Cool, served with freshly whipped cream. Absolutely yummy. And if you really must read about Clarence Thomas, I heartily recommend "Supreme Discomfort: The Divided Soul of Clarence Thomas" by Kevin Merida and Michael A. Fletcher.