Obama's sinister minister's racist rancor raises remarkable racous responses on race relations in America. Video mash up of Obama's sinister minister Jeremiaha Wright, with images of Obama, Hillary, Bush, Carville, Fox News, and other photos focused on American race relations and history, set to the song "I Love You C.C." by the funk band Parliament (1975). aRr Arr arr arr arr- ruff! LYRICS BY GEORGE CLINTON Uh, what's happening CC? They still call it the White House But that's a temporary condition, too. Can you dig it, CC? To each his reach And if I don't cop, it ain't mine to have But I'll be reachin' for ya 'Cause I love ya, CC. Right on. There's a lot of chocolate cities, around We've got Newark, we've got Gary Somebody told me we got L.A. And we're working on Atlanta But you're the capital, CC Gainin' on ya! Get down Gainin' on ya! Movin' in and on ya Gainin' on ya! Can't you feel my breath, heh Gainin' on ya! All up around your neck, heh heh Hey, CC! They say your jivin' game, it can't be changed But on the positive side, You're my piece of the rock And I love you, CC. Can you dig it? Hey, uh, we didn't get our forty acres and a mule But we did get you, CC, heh, yeah Gainin' on ya Movin' in and around ya God bless CC and its vanilla suburbs Gainin' on ya! Gainin' on ya! Gainin' on ya! (heh!) Gainin' on ya! Gainin' on ya! What's happening, blood? Gainin' on ya! Gainin' on ya! Gainin' on ya! Yeah! What's happening, black? Brother black, blood even Yeah-ahh, just funnin' Gettin' down Ah, blood to blood Ah, players to ladies The last percentage count was eighty You don't need the bullet when you got the ballot Are you up for the downstroke, CC? Chocolate city Are you with me out there? And when they come to march on ya Tell 'em to make sure they got their James Brown pass And don't be surprised if Ali is in the White House Reverend Ike, Secretary of the Treasure Richard Pryor, Minister of Education Stevie Wonder, Secretary of FINE arts And Miss Aretha Franklin, the First Lady Are you out there, CC? A chocolate city is no dream It's my piece of the rock and I dig you, CC God bless Chocolate City and its (gainin' on ya!) vanilla suburbs Can y'all get to that? Gainin' on ya! Gainin' on ya! Easin' in Gainin' on ya! In yo' stuff Gainin' on ya! Huh, can't get enough Gainin' on ya! Gainin' on ya! Be mo' funk, be mo' funk Gainin' on ya! Can we funk you too Gainin' on ya! Right on, chocolate city! Yeah, get deep Real deep Heh Be mo' funk Mmmph, heh Get deep Bad Unh, heh Just got New York, I'm told The song's largely spoken vocals (delivered by George Clinton) express pride in "Chocolate Cities", that is, cities with a majority black population. The song also reflects on the solidarity of African-American society at the time. The singer playfully hypothesizes what it would be like if there was an African American in the White House, and assigns the following people to positions in government: * Muhammad Ali - President of the United States * Reverend Ike - Secretary of the Treasury * Richard Pryor - Minister of Education (fictional) * Stevie Wonder - Secretary of Fine Arts (fictional) * Aretha Franklin - First Lady Among the cities listed as "Chocolate" cities: * Washington, D.C. * Newark, New Jersey * Gary, Indiana * Los Angeles, California * Atlanta, Georgia * New York City, New York The song closes with phrase "God bless Chocolate City, and its Vanilla suburbs." The Second Coming Turning and turning in the widening gyre The falcon cannot hear the falconer; Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold; Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world, The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere The ceremony of innocence is drowned; The best lack all conviction, while the worst Are full of passionate intensity. Surely some revelation is at hand; Surely the Second Coming is at hand. The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert A shape with lion body and the head of a man, A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun, Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds. The darkness drops again; but now I know That twenty centuries of stony sleep Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle, And what rough beast, its hour come round at last, Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born? -William Butler Yeats, 1919