Our father that art in heaven, and our mother that art in the earth, help me speak plainly now, and remain true to the lofty aim of our people. Which is, that the devil screw the hindmost, in the strict sense of the subject. Not to give airs, but also not to pretend that when Jack and Jill went up that hill, there was no more to it than a pail of water, we beseech thee (father and mother), as the direct descendants of Adam and Eve, Romeo and Juliette, and the old woman who lived in a shoe — guide us on our course.

Help us avoid mention of the smut-covered president, or of the common man, infested with bugs. The woman on the street? Keep her out of your dirty cold war. With your one good eye and half-bushel of fingers, raise the glass and pass the ammunition. We will now speak of the thermodynamics of the colored people.

Once upon a time, all the peoples was colored. That’s the way it was the old county. Then the Africans started to spread out, and in some cases, lighten up. And the people that wasn’t colored, tended to live in Iceland. After they’d been to the moon, they all got stuck in the sand.

They placed their trust in a great warrior, who had been through the bankruptcy courts, and had incited insurrections with a million dead; and she or see would clear the deck and all the frills upon it.