The Night Chicago Died


The Night Chicago Died


R.E. Prindle

I heard my mammy cry

The night Chicago died…

The night Chicago died.

Brother what a night the people saw,

Brother what a fight the people saw,

Glory Be.

-Paper Lace

     The sun came up like thunder out of China cross the sea as a Liberal Fifth Columnist hoisted the Chinese flag over the Empire State Building, ostensibly in celebration of the 1948 Communist takeover but really symbolizing Chinese subordination of the US and the West.  That was the Communist flag flying over the Big Apple.

     In Tennessee the judge slapped the wrist of a Negro savage who had poured battery acid down a White girl’s throat in an attempt to remove DNA evidence.  The judge gave him a life sentence with a wink.  ‘Let things cool down a bit.’  He said.

     In the Capitol of this Chinese province the titular President, Barry Obama, donned his best preacher suit to fly half way round the world to plead with some carnival barkers to let his adopted home town, Chicago, host the 2016 Olympic hustle.

     Executives at GM were pleading with Barry to send them his design for a new mini-green car so they could mop up the competition.   ‘More importatnt things to do.’  Said Barry.  Wall Street execs, even security salesmen, were on the phone complaining that their bonuses were too small.  ‘Chump change, but Change.’  Barry condescendingly smiled.

     ‘Unemployment is going through the roof.’  His dresser whined.

     ‘Let them eat Hope.’  Barry snarled.  ‘I’m going to charm the pants off of  these carny barkers and bring more than chump change to the Outfit chiefs in my adopted home town and my wife’s actual home town.

     Speaking of which Michelle was already at the side show putting in her two cents worth for the ‘Games.’  ‘Give the Games to Chicago;’ she said ‘and we’ll put them in the Black Belt just a few steps from my front porch so I won’t have to walk too far to attend the games.’

     Meanwhile Mogodishu Jones was being belabored with a two by four in the Chicago streets for acting white.  Imagine a Negro with a 4.0 grade point.  Mogodishu died from the beating so one more potential Negro rocket scientist was gone but no matter, Hollywood can produce a dozen for the screen easy.  They won’t have to worry none about twenty years on the college dayshift neither.  Presto! Rocket scientists Hollywood style.

     Michelle was cute in a large way, did her best to come up to coach Oprah’s instructions but she packed too many Is and mes into ten minutes and fell flatter than a 38D before the operation.

     Then Barry’s jet landed and the master orator strode manfully to the podium to charm those carneys.  It was time for a change and the Carneys knew it.  They showed disapproval of China’s satrap as well as bigotry against a Black Man and snubbed that brown eyed handsome African man.  Yessir!   Barry turned, got back on his plane and jetted the hell out of there.  US One filled the sky.

     There was rejoicing in the Black Belt back there in 1910 when Jack Johnson brought home the bacon.  There was no rejoicing in the Big Windy when Barry came home empty handed.  Nossir!

     Chicago’s faces were long and glum as they called foul.


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