There was a skit that had a black guy pushing his son in a shopping cart through the grocery store and expounding on racism. It went something like this (and bear in mind that it's been, like, fifteen years...):
See this? This is Cap'n Crunch. It's white. Now, here's some Cocoa Puffs. What's the bird on the Cocoa Puffs box say? He coo-coo for Cocoa Puffs! Got that? He coo-coo! He crazy! It's racist!For whatever reason, this skit has stuck with me enough that when I step outside on a day like today, I involuntarily think "It's hot. Damn' hot. Hot like the ghet-to!"
Now, here we have some white rice... See how calm it is? And here's the brown rice. What do they call the brown rice? Wiiiiilllld rice! It's brown, so it's wiiiiillld! That's racist.
Oh, here's the wine. This is white wine. You know what you're supposed to do with white wine? Keep it in the refrigerator; keep it cool. This is red wine, the darker wine. You're supposed to keep it at 'room temperature'. And what room is that? The kitchen. And what's it like in the kitchen? It's hot. Damn' hot. Hot like the ghet-to! That's racist!
And now we come to the olives. Here's the green olives, the light olives, and they get kept in a glass jar, where they have a good view. Oh, but here's the black olives! And where are they kept? Locked up in the can! That's racist!
See? You're black! You're coo-coo, you're too wild, and your black ass needs to stay sweatin' in the ghetto 'til they lock you up in the can! That's racist!