On March 14, 2004 I got off a greyhound bus in Dallas Texas with 95% of everything in the world I owned. I was determined to start over and make shit work once and for all.

On March 14, 2012 I will get on a US Airways Plane with the clothes on my back and little else, going back to the city of my birth, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.

I am not coming back alone.

I am bringing my Mother to Texas.

Twenty years after she told me she was leaving Pittsburgh the first time to move to Maryland, we are Driving a UHaul truck out of Pittsburgh and not looking back.

She returned, but that was because her mother was still there.

Grandma is gone now. My mother is finished with Pittsburgh.

Her oldest son and her youngest grandchild are here.

It won’t be easy, it won’t be boring. It is time for me to do my diligence as the oldest child as my mother strolls gracefully into the dawn of her twilight. She is in good health, I look forward to helping her add back the years working two full time jobs took away from her.

The older I get, the more I realize my mother and me are similar. We’ve loved, laughed, Bickered, but we have always ridden for each other.

My mother had due cause to write my sorry ass off more than once, but she’s always kept it 100 with me. Death, abandonment, racism, illness, heartbreak, marriage, tribulation, parenting, infidelity, historic success and unfathomable failure have woven their way through our relationship and here we are.

There is almost a guarantee that I will wish this day had never come.

I will expect at least ONE of you to give me a stern talking to when I part my lips to complain.

I woke up to the news of the unexpected death of Andrew Breitbart, who died of natural causes at the age of 43.  

I harbor almost exclusively contempt for Andrew Breitbart as a journalistic entity.

I have nothing beyond the perfunctory humanitarian mourning for Andrew Breitbart the human being and those he leaves behind.  I do not know him outside of his professional existence, and I try not to get caught up in being extra judgy on people I don’t know personally.

So this isn’t really about Andrew Breitbart the person. I don’t know that dude.

This isn’t so much even like Andrew Breitbart the Journalistic Entity. It is what it is. And to a large degree…it is over.

Andrew Breitbart is not walking through that door. I don’t have any feeling about that whatsoever. He wasn’t on my reading list and had no hope of making it.

This, ultimately is about David Frum.

David Frum is probably the most reasonable Conservative that I read on a regular basis. While I do not agree very often, I find him almost alone in telling uncomfortable truths about his party.

That said…The bar is low. But Frum meets it regularly enough so I respect him for the most part.

So, when The Angry Black Lady Tweeted Frum’s Obit on Breitbart as a Fair Assessment I didn’t hesitate. And to be fair in assessing Mr. Frum, it was fair…Largely.

It’s difficult for me to assess Breitbart’s impact upon American media and American politics as anything other than poisonous. When one of the leading media figures of the day achieves his success by his giddy disdain for truth and fairness—when one of our leading political figures offers to his admirers a politics inflamed by rage and devoid of ideas—how to withhold a profoundly negative judgment on his life and career?

Frum even Makes note of the specific coded nature of Breitbarts game…calling it exactly what it is…

Because President Obama was black, and because Breitbart believed in using every and any weapon at hand, Breitbart’s politics did inevitably become racially coded. Breitbart’s memory will always be linked to his defamation of Shirley Sherrod and his attempt to make a national scandal out of back payments to black farmers: the story he always called “Pigford” with self-conscious resonance.

Then he Fakes the funk on the Money shot.

Yet it is wrong to see Breitbart as racially motivated. Had Breitbart decided he hated a politician whose ancestors came over on the Mayflower, Breitbart would have been just as delighted to attack that politicians with a different set of codes. The attack was everything, the details nothing.(emphasis mine)

No. Hell. No.

Shit like this, up with I shall not put.

I don’t know Andrew Breitbart’s heart and his heart aint the issue.

The ISSUE?

David Frum Frames the very nature of Breitbart’s Racially coded distortions and then turns RIGHT around and does what happens WAY too often. He shifts it away from being about the Racism..and gives us some smoke and mirrors.

Thin, wispy smoke and Cracked fun house mirrors at that.

I might have given Frum a bit of a pass if he had bothered to at least Describe what kind of code you hit to Sway people against the sainted Pilgrims. Alas…No such codes were given.

The cold hard reality is, I don’t really give a shit about Andrew Breitbart. I am here to neither bury him nor praise him.

I am here to once again remind people that there is no shame in saying that a racist act is racist.

I am going to pause here, to issue what should be an unnecessary disclaimer.

I don’t know enough about Andrew Breitbart to say that he is a racist. Frankly, I don’t know enough about ANYONE who does the racist shit I spend my time scowling about on twitter to say that THEY are racists. I’m not here to brand People as Racists. If you are here for that…there is a nice operational burner on a Stove over there…way over there that you can cook on. This stove ain’t here for all that. But BEFORE You go Stirring your pot on that other stove…Watch J Smooth.

Now. Where was I?

Ah…here we are. Mister Frum.

Sir? How do you articulate that Andrew Breitbart willfully and purposely engaged in racially coded language for the purposes of advancing his political agenda and then immediately say he WASN’T racially motivated?

If you are willing to engage in Racially coded rhetoric, then you are Motivated by Race. And the power it has to divide people.

I find it interesting that you would identify the spade in Mr. Breitbart’s Garage and THEN point out the parts of his garden that he used it in, only to turn around and suggest that it wasn’t a spade, but some kind of convenient digging apparatus.

It is a spade, Mr. Frum. You said so yourself. Call it a spade. What are you afraid of?

Yeah, I get it…you don’t wanna be THAT guy.

You are okay being the last reasonable Republican in the Media…but you aren’t willing to be THAT guy.

That guy who says that the dead white dude did some racist shit in his life.

Nope. Let the Negro do it.

Fine. Have it your way, Mr. Frum.