Trent Lott on BET: 'Truly Sizzorry, Homeslice'

n awkward pause lasted a full 30 minutes on basic cable Friday night when Senate Majority Leader Trent Lott appeared on BET for a second time to ask forgiveness for remarks made at Strom Thurmond's birthday party two weeks previous. Despite stepping down from his position as Senate Majority leader earlier in the day, Lott felt it necessary to stress the sincerity of his regret for the ill-received comments—this time, garbed in FUBU clothes and sporting bad street lingo, Lott offered "the sizzincerest apologizzies."

It was a stark contrast to Monday night's appearance, where Lott was reserved, even self-effacing as he made an on-air apology directed to African-Americans. In addition to that apology, in which Lott claimed his remarks had been misconstrued as pro-segregationist when they were not intended that way, Lott tried to explain his long history of voting against legislation supported by African-Americans, including affirmative action and the Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. holiday.

On Friday, Lott was decidedly more in-your-face, despite claims he was "just chillin' on the B to the E.T." Though in his previous interview with Ed Gordon Trent claimed he was not a racist because he did not feel superior to Gordon, the Trent Lott in attendance Friday did suggest he was the mack daddy of riches and bitches.

"Yo, Ed G., it ain't no secret—T-Lo pulls all the fine bitches like motherfuckin' gravity. The honies love power and T-Lo's got it. You down with G.O.P.? Yeah, you know me."

When pressed about his voting record, Lott was less apologetic than Monday's interview.

"It's all good, Ed G. The plain truth is I ain't up in them cap-hill offices readin' all day like Muhammad or sumptin'. I'm just there to get pizzaid, and I just click the buttons until the checks is wrote and I get the fuck out for the weekend. Know what I'm sayin'? Just up there, trying to keep it real."

Interviewer Gordon questioned Lott on his strange new attitude, but Lott insisted the change was not inspired by polls stating his apologies were ineffective.

"It's all me, G. The real T-Lo got tired of puttin' on that whack suit-and-tie bullshit. That ain't the real Trent Lott, know what I'm sayin'? That was just frontin' 'cause I thought white America wasn't down wit' me otherwise. But, y'know, fuck all y'all who don't like the real T-Lo. Y'all just weak-ass perpetrators."

As for his earlier pro-segregationist remarks, Lott was quick to dismiss them.

"Yo, yo, yo, Ed G., that was some crazy-ass shit I said, I know that. But what you expect me to do? They asked me to say somethin' at this old-ass Strom Thurmond motherfucker's birthday and I had to come up with somethin' fast. Everybody'd be all pissed at me if I said he looked like Redd Fox's nutsack, right? So I just spun some mad bullshit about supportin' his presidential bid and shit—I ain't know what fuckin' 'segregationist' mean, sounds like the name of Prince's new band or somethin'. I said the shit, I'm truly sizzorry, homeslice, what you want from me? This shit done blown all outta proportion."

Lott stressed that he has drastic plans for change when he returns to Washington, including hiring an entourage of 10 leather-clad bodyguards, shaving his initials into his hair, and "tryin' to hook up wit' that fine-ass Beyoncé." As for legislature, Lott promises all his future Senate-floor speeches will be freestyle rhymes and he promises to have a joint holiday for Biggie and Tupac on the national calendar before the end of 2003.

Officials in the black community, in the meantime, have stressed that they liked Lott much better when he was on the clearly opposing side.

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Exciting news on the homefront here, people. If you recall my past musings in this column have been concerned with trying to help our boys overseas in the war effort. Those have all met with failing, as I glumly typed. Not anymore! Rok Finger is back in the morale business.

My good friends at Tapps Trading Cards came to me with a high-concept idea to raise money for the troops, and who else but Rok Finger was on their list? I'm not sure since I haven't seen said list, but I'm happy to help. Of course, the Tapps company is basically just my old neighbor Merle working out of his basement, cutting out cereal box squares and pasting pictures over them. But everyone has to start small, and Merle is starting smaller than ever.

Merle's genius idea was for a series of Rok Finger trading cards. Before you think you know where this is going, no, this is not another card-counting scam to bust the Atlantic City casinos. These are the types of trading cards only reserved for major athletic stars and serial killers. Or in some cases, pornographic actors of considerable achievement. That's right. Rok Finger is available in small cereal box squares for you to take wherever you like. Do whatever you want with them. Just don't tell me about it.

It was quite a photo shoot, just me and Merle and his wife Betty, who makes tea beautifully. Exhausting? Indeed. We went through five disposable cameras, but we got a series of shots that were simply incredible. Marilyn Monroe would have JFK put me on his enemies list, she'd be so jealous, if she were not a dusty skeleton by now.

Now, I don't consider myself a pretty boy, and I seem to side with the popular vote in that. But I am patriotic. And that's what I attempt to do, to bring a little bit of patriotism in these dire times to everybody, one and all. Each shot is a special injection of red, white and blue (though other colors are used amply). Costumes galore! Salutes, flags, the glory of America pasted to the back cereal box cardboard. With inspirational sayings like "Never trust a communist"; "America can survive a nuclear winter"; and "Only sissies talk during torture."

Even better for yours truly, I can paste a tiny resume on the back of each one and use it for auditions. Which is nice since I have yet to hear anything more about that small film I did a while back with that liar Piglet. But my first focus is helping, not personal gain. That's gravy.

Where will you be able to buy these exclusive one-of-a-kind Rok Finger trading cards? That's a little difficult to say, which is I can speak perfectly, but I'm not clear on the answer. Merle will be selling them out of his home at first, but hopes to step up production and get them into stores quickly. The manufacturing process has slowed considerably now that Merle is working nights at the lamination plant. But as part of my contract, which is to say the oral agreement we discussed over cigarettes and scotch, for every pack we sell we'll send one to a wounded trooper over in the war territory, as soon as we get a feasible address to work with.

Watch out, enemies of America! Rok Finger is coming for you all. And you'll be able to hear me easily with the loud popping of bicycle spokes that sound like a motorcycle. That's Rok Finger making that noise now.

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Believe it or not, the commune actually makes a tidy profit at the end of the week. Not this week, certainly not every week, but we can safely say the commune occasionally makes enough of a profit to keep the commune running. And here begins the problem.

As commune profits have grown, I began to hire staff members. Many of them you know through their columns, news articles, threatening letters to the commune or court dates. But there are unsung heroes as well, and I won't start to sing them here as my voice will crack. But one of these unsung heroes is Phil Lampost, the commune's Office Manager.

Or he was the commune's Office Manager.

Phil Lampost is the victim of what I call M.M.I.—Murder Most Implausible. Lampost was an exceptional person, skilled in both computer programming and office management. I found this out when I called him into my office, under the unfortunate premise of accusing him of embezzling $45 from the commune's Red Bagel fund, a fund designed for my future frivolous use. Phil then confided in me about the horrible truth.

In his spare hours, Phil had been designing a program called the Master Control Program, which would tighten security at the office, manage the commune's finances, assign writing and editorial duties without my help, and tuck me in at night. That last part is not a joke. This would be an amazing program, once Phil worked out the bugs as he promised me. I immediately apologized for accusing him of stealing money, but you know as well as I do it's hard to trust people these days. I wish I could say the story ended there.

Phil warned me cryptically that the program was growing out of control. Phil had made it as smart as an average person, he warned me, and that the thing would be ten times smarter than myself. Phil worried that the program was growing beyond its design, thinking for itself. Think about that! A computer thinking for itself without being told to do so. Think about it! It's beyond human, with all of our good points and none of our bad. And Phil warned me that if he could not be reached again, it would mean the Master Control Program had grown so bold as to kidnap Phil into the computer world.

I dread telling you what happened. Yes, Phil disappeared. My guess is that Phil discovered every penny of the commune's account was missing, no doubt stolen by the conniving Master Control Program, and when Phil tried to stop it he was abducted into the computer world. And for some reason, the MCP also abducted my new blonde secretary and bought two tickets to Jamaica.

But I shall not be thrown off the path from the real villain. The Master Control Program must be stopped. I don't know how, but I can and will do it.

I first set out to write a program to destroy the Master Control Program, but was thwarted early on by the fact that my computer was not already on. I will obviously have to enlist someone to write such a program for me, as well as turn my computer on.

Until such a time I will stop the Master Control Program the only way I know how: I have collected all the computers, calculators, and suspicious looking television sets into a big pile and started a bonfire out of them. I saw smokey demons escaping from the computers as they burned, maybe that's a good sign. I'll replace them, eventually, but I doubt they will be missed here at the commune offices. I've bought many foot stools to take their place, and that's usually what they were used for by commune employees.

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