Do as I Say, While I Do What I Want: Hypocrisy in the Land of Caps, Gowns, and Headdresses, Part I


This charming portrait of Elizabeth Warren has a place of honor in her Cambridge wigwam.


Faithful readers of CMM know one topic that gives Miss endless delight—and blog fodder—is the double standards college and university faculty use, usually to benchmark their worth against the drones who do staff work on their campuses, but sometimes simply when the Great Spirit moves them. The news brings such a bumper crop of stories that I must share them with you in “Do As I Say, While I Do What I Want,” Parts I and II.

Part I starts with the reigning queen of the academic double standard, Massachusetts’ own Professor-Politician Elizabeth Herring Warren Mann. Professor Warren/Mrs. Mann/Princess Ticklefeather has been much in the public eye lately as the most recent victim of recovered oppression syndrome (ROS) when it was revealed that she is (or maybe not) .03% Cherokee.* Like her noble ancestors the blond, blue-eyed redskin has endured the bows and arrows of prejudice simply because of her complexion. So it is not surprising to learn that she gratefully took a puff from the Affirmative Action peace pipe offered by the Great White Fathers at Harvard Law School, where, surprisingly, she was hired to teach rather than make rain.
Click here for a look at Professor Warren's students responding to her claims of minority status.
We all know that Elizabeth Warren is Heap Big Hypocrite. But what of the GWF’s at the Law School, whose contributions to the defense of affirmative action policies, not to mention the substance of such policies, at colleges and universities across this great albeit stolen land of ours have been instrumental in shaping the landscape of higher education for decades? The magnitude of hypocrisy achieved by these academics is beyond astonishing. While the rest of the academy struggles mightily first to qualify minority students to join the professoriate, then to hire faculty of color, who understandably come at a premium many institutions can ill afford, the good folks at Harvard decide that Princess Paleface qualifies as an “affirmative action” hire. Voila! I can hear them now, “Faculty of color? Elizabeth is kind of pinkish, when she remembers her blusher.” No muss. No fuss. No minorities.

I wonder what the Great White Fathers will think when they get wind of Professor Warren’s plans for casino gambling on Brattle Street. Who knows? Maybe they’ll do the right thing and vote for Scott Brown.

No longer able to live the white man’s lie at Harvard, Princess Paleface makes tracks for the Charles River, where her blood brothers will aid in her escape.


*Professor Warren’s ROS took a turn for the worse when she discovered that she is simultaneously suffering from ROS Type II, Recovered Oppressors Syndrome.

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9 thoughts on “Do as I Say, While I Do What I Want: Hypocrisy in the Land of Caps, Gowns, and Headdresses, Part I

  1. Her tribal name, depending upon inflection and circumstances can be translated into white devil talk as “Falling Rock”, “Crossing Deer” or “Slippery When Wet”.

  2. And now comes word that Princess Dances With The Truth’s contributions to the Pow Wow Chow cookbook may have been, ah, borrowed from that noted native american and NYT gourmand Pierre Franey. Who knew the Cherokees were such avid crab enthusiasts? It must have been grueling work for those Cherokee crab fisherman; going out every day on to the icy waters of the Red River to wrest those tasty crabs from the very bottom of the river! Corn, squash, beans and Crab with Tomato Mayonnaise Dressing ummm, ummm. good!

    • My understanding is that it is soon to be revealed that Princess Paleface is actually .0001 Inuit, and that her crab recipe originated as an ancient tribal repast made with Alaskan King Crablegs and whale blubber (we substitute mayo today.)

  3. I have an ancient family recipe handed down from time immemorial. Without divulging any pertinent details it requires a thin coating of chocolate, vanilla ice cream, small wooden sticks and paper coated aluminium foil. My cheekbones get higher just thinking about it.

    • If you are referring to the classic Inuit pie, I do not believe wooden sticks are involved. You must be a faux Indian too.

  4. .
    One night when the moon was bright on the moonlit bay.
    That is where I found my little Cherokee maid.
    The memory of the that night of love, is lingering yet.
    And I know I never will forget.

    My little Cherokee Maiden, I love her so.
    And though we’re far apart.
    I know I’ll never be tradin’ my love for her,
    For anybody else’s heart.
    Someday I’ll make a trip back to that Cherokee Strip,
    And I’ll carry her away with me.
    And straight as an arrow flies,
    We’ll ride to paradise,
    My sweet little chickadee,
    My little Cherokee Maiden and me.

    Instrumental.

    My little Cherokee Maiden, I love her so.
    And though we’re far apart.
    I know I’ll never be tradin’ my love for her,
    For anybody else’s heart.
    Someday I’ll make a trip back to that Cherokee Strip,
    And I’ll carry her away with me.
    And straight as an arrow flies,
    We’ll ride to paradise,
    My sweet little chickadee,
    My little Cherokee Maiden and me.

    HT: Bob Wills and his Texas Playboys

  5. Liz is the gift that just keeps giving and giving and giving. Now we learn that Princess Flips with The Vultures cashed in on low cost foreclosures over and over and over again. It’s just swell that she cut her closest tribal kinspersons in on the action. Of course her brotherly love did have its limits. 9.5% interest limits to be precise. I wonder if that was the tribal sanctioned rate at the time?

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