biting satire 
 dense with ideas and observations 
 young black man, Bonbon Me, raised and schooled at home by father in LA suburb of Dickens, treated as test subject for variety of psychological and political experiments by father. 
 Dickens is delisted as a city and forgotten by establishment, Bonbon initiates a series of initiatives to establish a sense of community and reinstates slavery and segregation, ultimately landing him in the supreme court 
 so many ideas - farmer in the ghetto growing heirloom crops and weed, forgotten black 'Little Rascal', segregation of bus, school, hospital. fading black media intellectual rewritting black post racisms versions of classic literature. 
 at some points feels like every idea that popped into the author's head was shoehorned in 
 ultimately does have a serious subtext, 
 And while no one in this room would deny the basic premise of 'civil rights,' we'd argue forever and a day about what constitutes 'equal treatment under the law' as defined by the very articles of the Constitution this defendant is accused of violating. In attempting to restore his community through reintroducing precepts, namely segregation and slavery, that, given his cultural history, have come to define his community despite the supposed unconstitutionality and nonexistence of these concepts, he's pointed out a fundamental flaw in how we as Americans claim we see equality. 
 Unmitigated Blackness is essays passing for fiction 
 and many laugh out loud moments 
 In those days, when remote control television was your father screaming, "Shawn! Don! Mark! One of you motherfuckers come downstairs and change this goddamn channel," fine-tuning a fickle ultra-high-frequency station like Channel 52, KBSC-TV Corona, Los Angeles, on a beat-up black-and-white portable missing one rabbit ear antenna and all its dials required a vascular surgeon's touch 
 And this country, the latent high school homosexual that it is, the mulatto passing for white that it is, the Neanderthal incessantly plucking its unibrow that it is, needs people like him. It needs somebody to throw baseballs at, to fag-bash, to nigger-stomp, to invade, to embargo. Anything that, like baseball, keeps a country that's constantly preening in the mirror from actually looking in the mirror and remembering where the bodies are buried. 
 The meetings consisted mostly of the members who showed up every other week arguing with the ones who came every other month about what exactly "bimonthly" means 
 Above me a student opened a second-story window, looked up from a school-issued microscope so old Leeuwenhoek would've called it antiquated, and stuck her processed head into the air to gaze out at the Godzilla-sized child prodigy of the Wheaton Academy peering into an electron microscope so advanced it'd make Cal Tech envious 
 If he was indeed an "autodidact," there's no doubt he had the world's shittiest teacher.