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The Week’s Most Prissy, Hissy, and Solstice-y Headlines

POSTHOLIDAY BLUES (AND BLACKS)
Juneteenth occupies a unique place among holidays and celebrations. With Halloween, for example, the decorations go up a month before October 31st. And on November 1st, everything’s forgotten, as folks move on to Thanksgiving and Christmas, which, likewise, leave the public consciousness once they’ve come and gone.

Generally with any festivity or observance, attention decreases the day after.

But with Juneteenth, most of the attention occurs on the day after, as Americans tally the corpses and mourn the dead and tend to the wounded from the commemoration of when Major General Gordon Granger brought a deep fryer to Galveston and the freed slaves cried, “Fries at last, fries at last.”

Ever since Joe Biden made Juneteenth a federal holiday, signing the proclamation using Lizzo’s ass as a desk (don’t ask where he put the pen), Juneteenth has been more of an exercise in black genocide than a celebration of black freedom.

And this year, the More-gun Freemen really outdid themselves.

67 revelers shot—11 fatally—in Chicago, as young emancipees held gunfights Wild West-style.

High-Noonteenth.

St. Louis: Eleven injured and one killed at a Juneteenth party. The deceased was only 17 years old.

Gone-Too-Soonteenth.

Washington State: A partygoer at a Juneteenth music festival fired randomly into the crowd, killing two. Then the coward fled.

Poltroonteenth.

Milwaukee: Six teens were shot at a Juneteenth celebration. The gunman is described as a light-skinned black.

Octoroonteenth.

A hundred other blacks were gunned down by fellow revelers at Juneteenth events in Philly, San Francisco, NYC, Atlanta, Carson, Memphis, Houston, and Baltimore.

Bodies-Strewnteenth.

Indeed, there were Juneteenth shootings in every state.

Except South Dakota.

Happy John Thuneteenth.

SUB-MERCIFUL
With stray Juneteenth bullets flying everywhere last week, four billionaires managed to find the one spot on earth immune from the menace: the bottom of the North Atlantic.

Water: 100 percent guaranteed Juneteenth-proof.

But there are other hazards.

Four elites with nothing better to do paid $250,000 per person to take a submarine to visit the Titanic on the ocean floor. Well, “submarine” is misleading. It was an experimental submersible the size of a sewer pipe, and speaking of sewers, the only window in the craft was a tiny porthole next to the box used as a bathroom. So the entire twelve-hour voyage consisted of people hunched over in a tube, watching the Titanic on monitors like anyone could do at home not hunched over in a tube, and if you wanted to look out the one little window, you had to sit on the poop box.

There wasn’t even an in-trip movie. Although to be fair, staring at a box of human excrement is pretty much the same as watching any current Hollywood film.

When the sub went missing, snake oil salesmen the world over mourned the loss of the most easily gulled wealthy idiots on earth.

The company that runs the tours is called Oceangate. And c’mon, are you really gonna trust an outfit with the scandal suffix in its name? “Oceangate” is tailor-made for a Twitter hashtag, which indeed it became as the world waited breathlessly (though not as breathlessly as those in the murdertube) for word on the fate of ocean floora the explora.

THE DEI-VING BELL AND THE COSTCUTTERFLY
Terrible as the submersible story is, there’s an irony that can’t be ignored: The five passengers (well, four passengers and the company’s CEO, who’ll likely go down in history for the most creative murder-suicide ever) chose to spend Juneteenth at the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean surrounded by the long-decomposed corpses of upper-class British and American twits and lower-class Irish steerage ballast.

You literally can’t get less black than that. If one were asked, “How can I spend Juneteenth in the least black way possible?” that would be answer No. 2 (No. 1 would be “In Antarctica eating cold fries”).

Sadly, you can run from Juneteenth, but you can’t hide. That homicidal CEO, Stockton Rush, previously bragged about eschewing the employment of “50-year-old white guys” because they aren’t “inspirational.”

And now Rush is no longer aspiration-al.

“Equity” in hiring is so commonplace, it’s reached the ocean floor…and blacks will still claim it hasn’t gone far enough.

Enter Rod Serling:

Submitted for your approval…August 29, 1863. Five men board the CSS Hunley, an experimental submersible designed to aid the Confederacy during the Civil War. One idiot steps on the wrong lever and the sub sinks, costing all five men their lives. In trying to prevent Juneteenth from ever happening, five men lie dead at the bottom of the ocean. One hundred and sixty years later almost to the month, five men board an experimental submersible to escape the Juneteenth caused by the failure of the Hunley, only to meet a similar fate…a fate they wouldn’t have met had they stayed on shore and partied with Juneteenth celebrants.

Well, okay, they probably would’ve been shot if they’d done that. So I guess they would’ve died anyway. Maybe the lesson is, you can’t avoid fate. Or maybe it’s “Thanks, Biden, for making this stupid thing a federal holiday.” Or hell, maybe it’s “Don’t go to the bottom of the ocean in an untested asphyxiation chamber shaped like a suppository.” Look, what do you want from me? I’ve been dead for fifty years.

ALL THE LATEST MEDICAL POOP
As Hollywood celebrates the fictional tale of the Mexican janitor who invented Flamin’ Hot Cheetos (in reality, it’s the tale of a Mexican janitor who invented a story about inventing Flamin’ Hot Cheetos), there’s a different tale, and a different Frito-Lay product, that deserves remembering.

WOW Chips.

Frito-Lay released them in 1998, to great fanfare. Made with a substance called Olestra, WOWs were advertised as the first potato chips you could eat without gaining weight. Eat one bag, or two, or twenty…no extra pounds.

But there was a catch. Olestra caused massive “anal leakage.” Yep, WOW Chips turned everyone’s anus into a leaky faucet. So many Super Bowl parties ruined. You can blame a fart on the dog, but when you get up after eating a bowl of chips and the cushion upon which you were sitting looks like an Exxon Valdez docking station, there’s no escaping the embarrassment.

In a way, WOW Chips were a progressive tool for fat acceptance. Because when the choice is to be fat with an anus that stays closed versus being thin with a fudge-fountain laying a choco-trail like Hansel and Gretel for fecal fetishists, people with fat friends declared, “We prefer you fat!”

Even though WOW Chips were eventually discontinued, fatties continue their quest to not just indent couch cushions but blacken them. Unable to lose weight via “patience taught by nature,” fat people are once again Elizabeth Barrett Browning their pants thanks to another “miracle cure” for obesity: the drug Semaglutide, sold as Ozempic and Wegovy (isn’t that a polling firm?).

Semaglutide users are losing weight, to be sure, while doing their best Mr. Mackey from South Park impression. Along with violent diarrhea, users are reporting “Ozempic butt,” a bizarre condition in which butt cheeks become deflated and saggy, which is arguably the worst present a woman could give her black boyfriend for Juneteenth.

“I wanted a woman with class like Snoop Dogg. Now I got a woman with ass like Droop Dog.”

Also, Ozempic is giving people pancreatitis and kidney failure. So there’s that, too.

Maybe it’s time to bring back WOW Chips. Or at least make a movie about them, especially as Hollywood is so committed to centering brownness.

AFFIRMATIVE ERACTION
Affirmative action may be coming to an end, and SCOTUS is certainly building up the suspense. Any day now the court will issue its ruling in a case that could forever scuttle collegiate race favoritism in the U.S.

And Americans are sitting on pins and needles awaiting the decision.

Well, except for Ishani Chokshi. What he’s sitting on, you don’t wanna know. Chokshi is a self-described Indian-American transgender schizophrenic cannabis-addicted woman of color. When applying to Northwestern Law School, Chokshi checked so many boxes on the affirmative-action list, Northwestern grabbed him up before Harvard and Yale could.

And Chokshi has spent his time at the university harassing and terrorizing female faculty and students alike, bullying the school’s law journal into publishing his rants about dildos, sex toys, and anal intercourse, and spamming the student body with threats and demands for money.

Tragic to think that a SCOTUS decision against affirmative action might deprive us of such enrichment.

Plus, without affirmative action, who’ll build our imploding murder-subs?

And yet for some odd reason colleges across the nation are closing down. Perhaps because parents have grown tired of paying inflated tuition so their kids can be threatened with a dildo by Ma’amhatma Gandhi.

And while Northwestern endures the tyranny of Oliver Wendell Homo, the rest of the nation waits with gay-ted breath for SCOTUS to make the final call on race-based admissions. With a 6–3 conservative majority, the outcome seems certain. But don’t be too sure! SCOTUS conservatives have been unpredictable on issues of race this term.

But fear not, says Dinesh D’Souza! Biden’s sole appointee, Ubangi Brown Jackson, has rebelled against the president!

Yeah, by siding with conservatives in a case involving gun charges against a nonwhite drug-trafficking murderous thug…a case that united the conservatives’ hatred of burdensome gun laws and the liberals’ love of nonwhite drug-trafficking murderous thugs. To claim that this temporary union means Jumanji is “rebelling” against Biden is dumb enough to beg the question: Has anyone ever seen Dinesh D’Souza and Ishani Chokshi in the same place at the same time?