When I was around 7 or 8 years old, I was puny and scrawny, and the only person I could beat in a fight was my Danny O’Day ventriloquist dummy, even though on a number of occasions we fought to a draw. When there was no clear winner, I would sometimes accuse him of being a racist, to “guilt” him into declaring me the victor. (I attribute that mindset back then due to the influence of a childhood friend of mine who had similar personality traits of Al Sharpton). What the…

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