Maybe by now you’ve heard that Paula Deen, the Food Network chef whose confections include stomach-churning monstrosities such as Deep-Fried Lasagna, Chocolate Cheese Fudge (don’t forget the Velveeta!)  and  Krispy Kreme Bread Pudding  made some colorful comments during a deposition she gave for a discrimination lawsuit filed against her, her brother and others.

Deen admitted to using “nigger” and other derogatory racial slurs (“yes, of course”) and described wanting to have a “very southern style wedding” for her brother modeled after a restaurant where the “whole entire wait staff was middle-aged black men” in white jackets and black bow ties

I am absolutely shocked–SHOCKED–I tell you that a 66-year-old, White trash, trailer park, backwards-ass, country-fried peckerwood who fries everything in butter is a racist old SKANK. Who woulda thunk it?

Am I going too far?  Am I wallowing in the same sort of vulgar and nasty stereotypes  Paula Deen dreams of?   Yes, I am and what of it?

Just to be clear if my language is extreme (and admittingly it is)  you can’t be bad with that and e good with Mrs. Deen’s “bunch of little niggers” dancing around like they’re in a Shirley Temple movie phraseology.   Because if we can’t express loathing, revulsion and disgust for Deen’s Southern-fried fantasies of Black men in White shirts waiting on her hand and foot, then I’m kind of stumped on how to do so properly without turning Deen’s vile stereotypes against her.

Paula is down for the chocolate.

What gives stereotypes their sting is when they have some grain of truth to them. African-Americans do like fried chicken. White people put mayonnaise on their sandwiches. There are gay men whom adore Judy Garland and Irish husbands who get sauced and beat their wives’ asses.

Americans like to tell themselves racism is a thing of the past.   The Supreme Court stands poised to gut the 1965 Voting Rights Act because Antonin Scalia says it is a “perpetuation of racial entitlement.”   Surveys indicate Whites are more hostile to affirmative action than ever before and believe they are the ones suffering most from racial discrimination.    In comparison to the mounting tensions between Whites and Blacks, Deen’s wet dreams of subservient Blacks seem staggeringly trivial, but in another way are a troubling reminder of how much progress remains to be made between the races.

There remains Southern born bigots like Paula Deen who long for the days when you could call a Black man shining your shoes a “boy” and much worse if they forgot their place  and they had better not give a White person any sass  if they knew what was good for them.

Is calling Deen a peckerwood, White trash, a trailer resident going over-the-top deep into Stereotype Lake?  Sure it is, and I know she’s probably none of those things, but then I’m not a nigger either.

What Paula Deen thinks about Blacks is sad, pathetic and backwards as hell,  but I still feel more pity than contempt for her.   To the extent she can think at all, who  cares what this phony thinks about Blacks?  The women’s brain is full of butter, gravy and b.s. and ingesting all that fried gunk probably gave her Type 2 diabetes.

Seems like poetic justice to me.

ADDENDUM:  Oh, look!  Roland Martin, The National Association of Black Journalists choice for the 2013 Journalist of the Year took to his Twitter account to defend Deen’s divine right to say “nigger” as much as she wants.   How gallant of The Ascot.

“I like plenty of butter and gravy on my Negroes.”