Trump Nominee Is Huge Racist, If You Can Believe It
And yet, Jeremy Carl is up for a high-level State Department post.
If you missed it, at the end of last week the Senate Foreign Relations Committee held a confirmation hearing for one Jeremy Carl, an outright racist Donald Trump nominee (yeah, yeah, could we narrow it down?) for a high-level position at the State Department. As we watched, one question popped into our decaying brain again and again: why do all these “whites are the master race” guys always look like boiled hams?
Seriously, look at that unshaven punim up top and tell us that dude doesn’t look like he should be lying on a platter at Easter dinner with an apple stuffed in his mouth.
Of course, being a walking, breathing contradiction of his own beliefs is not what’s pathetic about Jeremy Carl. Or not the only thing, at least.
No, what’s pathetic is watching Carl fumble around for answers to simple questions like an undergrad who didn’t do the reading. Good God, man, at least be erudite enough to back up your mealy-mouthed racist bullshit! Overwhelming your questioners with a flood of garbage is pretty much the only way through. Look at Stephen Miller or Chris Rufo. Those guys simply throw out racist statement after racist statement so fast that by the time your brain processes one point to push back on, they have thrown out four more points for which there is no rational answer.
Carl has been a research fellow at the Hoover Institution and a Senior Fellow at the Claremont Institute. So by wingnut standards, he’s an intellectual.
Anyway, watch him squirm when Senator Chris Murphy of Connecticut asks him a pretty simple question, which comes out of Murphy’s mouth as, “Tell me how you define white identity and what you think is being erased,” but could easily translate to What in the actual fuck are you babbling about, you extra-yeasty sourdough loaf?
This is such an unbelievably hilarious load of offal. It’s bad, nonsensical ‘90s stand-up comedy: Black people worship like this, but white people worship like this! You ever notice how Asian people like Asian food, but white people put raisins in their carrot salad?
Give that man a spot on Evening at the Improv.
After the hearing was over, Carl tried to correct the record by tweeting at Murphy. It didn’t help:
Got it. He’s mad because if they rebooted Leave It to Beaver, June Cleaver would probably have Taco Tuesdays instead of serving tuna casserole.
Do we even need to get into the history of how the “white ethnic groups” Carl name-checks were actually treated when they first came to America?
Calling oneself a “civic nationalist” is such a cheap-ass cop-out. It’s one more way of degrading America’s multicultural fabric that has been around as long as the rest of the country. Never once does it occur to Carl that maybe way too many Americans felt left out back in the days when “Anglo-derived culture” as he imagines it was pretty much the only thing one saw when one turned on the TV or picked up a book.
As the writer Christopher Mathias pointed out, Carl is mad about the Hart-Celler Immigration Act of 1965 overturning the Johnson-Reed Immigration Act of 1924. The earlier law had nationality quotas and prioritized immigrants from North and Western Europe. Or white people, not to put too fine a point on it. The Hart-Celler Act overturned that regime, and prioritized immigration based on skilled immigrants and relatives of people already here. Yes, this led to a lot more immigration from Latin America and Asia.
What Carl imagines here is that he can separate the idea of the dominant culture of pre-Hart-Celler Act America from whiteness. Or he’d like the senators to think he can do that. Unfortunately for him, he also published a book two years ago entitled The Un-Protected Class: How Anti-White Racism Is Tearing America Apart. There is nothing subtle about that.
Luckily at least one Republican, John Curtis of the ethnically diverse state of (checks notes) Utah said he’ll vote against Carl’s nomination, which means it will die in committee. Unless the Trump administration feels like putting a full-court press on and spending political capital to get this mewling tub of cookie dough confirmed. Which it might, it’s full of giant bigots just like him.
OPEN THREAD.
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Growing up, Friday evenings were my most favorite time.
Dad almost never worked then, because he worked a lot, he was UAW, an electrician working for International Harvester and he would grab OT whenever it was available as it could mean triple time.
But Friday evenings was family time and it meant either a trip to Pizza Hut (big treat!) or dad was cooking on the grill.
Then we'd stay up late and watch classic horror films.
Saturday meant cartoons.
Oh yeah, Friday evenings were sweet. I wish it was Friday already.
He could have just mentioned that the Dow was at 50,000 and saved himself a lot of trouble.