Congratulations Funky Paula Deen!

Paula Deen's racism has hurt some people, sure.  Hurtful words damage meaningful discourses and curtail important conversations, that's the way we work as social animals.  But there's an ironic silver lining to Deen's vapid, clueless, unintentinal hate speech.

We're not talking about the abstract "this sort of discourse, however ill-founded, promotes a national dialogue" kind of silver lining.  No, we're talking about employment.  Specifically, your employment.  Every time Paula Deen says something stupid, you get work.

When you were a young woman coming up through the ranks of the theater, you didn't think this would be your life.  Christ, who would think that?  You thought you'd be a tubby character actor who plays strong supporting roles in comedic films.  But as time went by you learned you weren't funny, and as more time went by you started to look an awful lot like Paula Deen from far away, which meant, you guessed it, you found yourself working less often as an actor and more often as a Paula Deen look-a-like and impersonator.

Work was pretty thin before Deen's struggle with diabetes became highly publicized a few years ago.  Even then, it wasn't great: a handful of cameos for various sketch groups, some internet video stuff, not a lot, but enough to live off of.  After her highly publicized racial comments, however, your cell phone started blowing up.  You became the single most sought after celebrity look-a-like in the greater Los Angeles area.  Not a week goes by where someone doesn't want you to come in to their office to help with their trust-building exercise, or teach their kids how to twerk Paula Deen style or something, but all this work comes with the stolid knowledge that one day, one day not too far off, all this will end.  You know it, your management knows it, the American people know it.  Eventually, you'll stop being sought after for some sort of psychic catharsis.  This knowledge has been weighing heavy on you of late, as you know that it'll be sooner than later that Deen will sink into the national subconscious and shift from being a national touchstone to being an irrelevant footnote in the history of intolerance.

But today the awful course of your sad little life is going to reverse with one little phone call.  It'll come from Paula Deen herself, and she'll ask you, through a veil of "sugah"s and "sweetness"es, that she wants you to be her in-house "helper."

"Well," she'll declare through a drawl thick as molasses, "I reckon I tend to say what I don't mean pretty often, as you've noticed, and I want y'all around to help me out when I do by makin' internet funnies."

You'll ask if she means funny internet videos.

"Yeah," she'll reply.  "Like, one of me and you rapping next time I say nigger or some such."

After that last sentence you'll hear a hand slide over the mouthpiece and a series of muffled curses punctuated by a phrase that will sound a good deal like "did it again."

"Sorry sugah.  Had a minor issue here.  Interested?"

You'll squash down your laughter and accept her offer, all but holding your breath to keep from laughing until she finishes saying goodbye.  Then you'll call your mom and tell her about the news, shortly before calling a black friend to talk through the serious guilt you'll feel over accepting the job offer.

Congratulations Funky Paula Deen!