Crazy

 

(My Asian son is a white supremacist.)

Yesterday, I woke up at 5 a.m. and drank a cup of instant coffee. Then I read the headlines on my smartphone while taking a nasty shit. A group of loan sharks from Seoul were giving out $300 to low-credit females desperate for money. The catch was that these parasites wanted $500 back a week later. If the victims refused to comply, the criminals threatened to flood the internet with nude photographs of the ladies. Sadly, the world is filled with scumbags.

I contacted my mother using Facebook Messenger. Chicken Ken picked up the call, instead.

I said, “Have you been watching the news? It looks as if the End Times are approaching quickly. It won’t be long till Jesus returns.”

My eldest son sneered at me. “Those Jews are getting exactly what they deserve.”

“You’re a real reprobate, aren’t you, boy?”

“What are you talking about? They aren’t even the real Jews. Bunch of usurpers if you ask me.”

“Have you been listening to Alex Jones again?”

He shook his head from side to side. “I’m no longer a supporter of Jones. He’s become a tool of Zion.”

I looked at him sternly. “Time is running out, so you had better get on the right side of the Lord. Turkey will soon enter Gaza with its troops, and then we’re talking about World War III. Like Christ said back in the day, you don’t want to get caught sleeping when he shows up at the door.”

“What are you talking about? Those are the bastards who nailed Jesus to a tree.”

I sighed heavily. “You can’t have it both ways, son. The real Jews are the ones who murdered Jesus. If these are phony Jews, then they had nothing to do with his death.”

Chicken Ken is a raging white supremacist. Which is kind of strange, considering the fact that he isn’t actually white. In fact, he looks a hell of a lot more Asian than Caucasian. But what do I know?

Most of his buddies are pale, so I figure he's getting this nonsense from them and the internet. Needless to say, I’m deathly afraid that one day he is going to attend a meeting or walk into a bar frequented by true racists. They’ll get one look at my yellow wayward son and beat the living crap out of the poor kid.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m all for free speech, and you are allowed to hate whomever you want. Yet I’d feel much more comfortable if he had Asian friends who hated the white man or black folk. It would make more sense to me. Sadly, I’m completely confused by his strange behavior.

My day at work went well. I’m currently reading the poem The Bells with my high schoolers. It was written by Edgar Allan Poe.

I said, “I really love The Bells. For some strange reason, it reminds me of a song by Pink Floyd called Time. The tune actually starts with the sound of ringing alarms. But I’m an old dude, and you kids have probably never even heard of Pink Floyd.”

A boy raised his hands. “Everybody here knows Pink Floyd. They’re extremely popular around the world.”

I nodded and smiled. “I find their music hypnotic. However, I don’t listen to them much anymore. They’re a bit too depressing for my taste.”

Another boy raised his hand. “I’m more into the Korean pop female groups. I love to see them dance in those sexy outfits.”

Everybody laughed. But he made a good point. Those ladies are very delicious.

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