Reality is the ultimate irony.
For over a quarter of a century, Elizabeth Warren has described herself as a Native American. When recently asked to provide evidence of her ancestry, she pointed to an unsubstantiated claim on an 1894 Oklahoma Territory marriage license application by her great-great grand uncle William J. Crawford that his mother, O.C. Sarah Smith Crawford, Ms. Warren’s great-great-great grandmother, was a Cherokee.
[N]o evidence supports this claim. O.C. Sarah Smith Crawford had no Cherokee heritage, was listed as “white” in the Census of 1860 ….
But the most stunning discovery about the life of O.C. Sarah Smith Crawford is that her husband, Ms. Warren’s great-great-great grandfather, was apparently a member of the Tennessee Militia who rounded up Cherokees from their family homes in the Southeastern United States and herded them into government-built stockades in what was then called Ross’s Landing (now Chattanooga), Tennessee—the point of origin for the horrific Trail of Tears, which began in January, 1837. [more]
Whether this is true or not ain’t my point.
Whether Warren knowingly lied or not ain’t my point, neither.
You know my abhorrence for the concept of inherited guilt or victimhood.
I’m just wallowing here in that big ol’ sandbox that is reality,
basking in the warming rays of history,
sipping away on a tall, cold glass of irony,
and grinnin’ from ear to ear with the knowledge that sometimes …
well, sometimes life is just funnier’n snot, ain’it?
(What? What if Obama had an ancestor who was involved in the slave trade? Ohh, myyy! [/MrSulu voice])