Free Reckless Eyeballing by Ishmael Reed Page A

that you’ve given in to those dykes over there at the Mountbatten and that—” Shank covered his grin. “They say that now that the Jew boy, your security, has disappeared, Tremonisha”—he started to laugh aloud—“Tremonisha Smarts is directing your play.” Shank doubled over, holding his gut, he was laughing so.
    Ball thought for a moment. “So what’s wrong with that?” Ball said, weakly. “She’s a competent director.”
    â€œAw, man, you know the reason the white boys love her so. It’s because she portrays black men as hurried, inattentive lovers, and then there’s that scene where this brute throws the woman down the stairs. They love that. That’s all the white boys talk about. Man, do they cream behind that. They love stuff showing black dudes as animalistic sexual brutes because that’s what they are. Just like when they called people cannibals. They’re the biggest cannibals there are. They’ve cannibalized whole civilizations, they’ve cannibalized nature, they’d even cannibalize their own mothers.” Ball had heard this speech a million times over the years in New York.
    â€œI’m proud to have Tremonisha direct my play. I’ve learned a lot from her already.”
    â€œI agree with this Flower Phantom dude. He’s right. Some of these black feminist writers are just as guilty as those French whores who collaborated with the Nazis. They deserve what they get. Cut off their hair, but leave a flower.” He snapped his fingers, annoyed with himself. “Damn. Why didn’t I think of that?” He stamped a foot.
    â€œShe’s a collaborator because she told that columnist that rapists should be castrated. You know who’s going to be castrated, don’t you? Me and the fellas are going to contribute to this guy’s defense fund if he’s ever arrested. These Jew bitches are the ones behind it. They’re putting Coretha and Clotel up to it. The way I figure, by having your play produced by Becky French, you’re collaborating with these Zionists.”
    â€œBecky’s not Jewish. Her family’s ancestry goes all the way back to the Mayflower .”
    â€œThat’s what all these Jews say. They’d rather be pilgrims and the descendents of slave owners than be themselves. The Jews over here ain’t the real Jews anyway.”
    Ball was looking toward the elevator in hopes of escaping Shank’s crazy tirade. He wished that there was some way he could get away. He’d finally run into a man who was more extreme than Brashford in his anti-Semitism.
    â€œHow are these hymies over here supposed to be Jews when Abraham was a black man who fucked black women and had babies by them? The Flower Phantom, he said he’d get Becky French for agreeing with Tremonisha. Boy, why can’t I be him.” Shank had a reputation for being on the tail end of trends. Some people called him a copycat. Ball was becoming uncomfortable.
    â€œJust like the Jew. Black people invented Judaism and then these Europeans take it over and water it down into some kind of stale crossover religion. Next the white Jews say they the only Jews and the original Jews, the black Jews who invented the religion in the first place, have to take a test when they go to Israel. Imagine that. Like these Falashas, whose traditions are pre-Talmudistic, have to take a test from these fake Jews when they go to Israel, and Israel is becoming such a theocratic state that they’re even going to stop admitting these jive American Jews. These American Jews want it both ways. They play Marrano pretending to be Christian on the side, but in the back they still Jews. You heard what old Begin told them, didn’t you? He said if they were so Jewish why don’t they go to Israel, but now these reform Jews are scared because the Israeli people might even stop letting them in.” Ball tried to sneak