GM, Bell Hooks, My Sweet.

Certainly from the standpoint of white supremacist capitalist patriarchy, the hope is that desires for the “primitive” or fantasies about the Other can be continually exploited, and that such exploitation will occur in a manner that reinscribes and maintains the status quo. Whether or not desire for contact with the Other, for connection rooted in the longing for pleasure, can act as a critical intervention challenging and subverting racist domination, inviting and enabling critical resistance, is an unrealized political possibility. (Bell Hooks 367).

Sweet weeping Jesus on the Cross, what a complete load of horse shit! Instead of beginning your sentence with “Certainly” you, in all basic common decency should have began with “Most certainly not…” you nasty ass-bitch. That’s it, I said it, is that what you wanted to hear?
Bell, my love, I do agree with you on one thing though, the “capitalist patriarchy” although I would feel better if you changed that to “elite capitalist.” Since, I’m sure, as you very well must know there’s only one true color and that’s “Benjamin Green.” Get it?
Oh, and another thing sweet heart, the “desires for the ‘primitive’ or fantasies about the Other” kind of bothers me too. Okay, I admit to buying some pretty good weed from a ‘primitive’ once when I was sixteen, but that was then, this is now. Let me see, oh yes, this morning I had a root canal done by an “Other” and last week I met with and paid a very sizeable retainer to, one of attorneys, who, happens to be so black in complexion, that I suppose, when he is lying upon on set of white bed linen he could be easily mistaken for a hole in the sheets.
Baby Doll, you very much remind me of the young lady I came across this morning at a local convenience store, when I stopped for a morning coffee. Her name was “Lady Paradise” a name not discerned by her name tag; but, rather from the tattoo she had stitched across her throat, “Lady Paradise,” and, she didn’t like me. It was quite obvious and it was also quite obvious she didn’t like me for one reason and one reason only—my complexion. Let’s just say that her attitude would most certainly replace any “hot sauce” I needed on my breakfast burrito.
But you know what; I didn’t let it bother me. The way I look at it, I’m doing my thing, and, she is doing hers. I most certainly don’t know what’s going on in her life, and, she wouldn’t have a clue about mine, which brings me back around to you.
Bell, my dear, I think you need to take up a different line of work, instead of writing that is. Yes, I’ve given this a great deal of thought and I think what befits you most exceedingly would be for you to become a night deposit receptacle in a sperm bank. Peace.