Walter Kilgore, you are a bitch. I do not put this into writing lightly, and I do not throw around the epithet of bitch as readily as some people I know. I have enough brain cells to rub together to realize that doing this jeopardizes my future at the Agency.
However, in regards to that future, I do not give a fuck. Suck on that. Because if you do not have a present how can you have a future?
I am specifically writing this to let you know that I have repeatedly been the victim of discrimination during my 18 months as a field operative. I recognize that you don't give a shit, but I just want this postmarked to you so when I hire some ACLU lawyers there is a sealed and stamped record of my complaint.
To substantiate my complaint of racial discrimination I have recorded a number of the most egregious examples. Please forgive my casual tone, but I was in the field when I jotted down many of these and also I was and still am pissed right the fuck off. Which might make a little salty. So my apologizes.
August 16th, 2008 - SCUBA Bullshit
CIA just told me I cannot SCUBA. Oh, you think I can't swim? Nappy head rock arms over here can't do a breaststroke? I was top of the swim team in college and I am deep dive certified by the Navy SEALs. You are going to tell me I cannot SCUBA dive? Fuck you Jan Krakowczyk. Telling me about your ovarian cysts like it somehow helps me prepare for a HALO insertion in the Kush tribal region. I hope those cysts are tumors and you get pregnant and the tumors turn into the baby and you give birth to some evil midnight-colored baby with little marble eyes and he eats cigarettes and asbestos. You are a piece of work.
November 25th, 2008 - The White Man's Burden: Zip Lines
I see how it is. I see how it is going to be. A white man can zip around all day like Splinter Cell, but when a black man wants to travel downward diagonally suddenly everything gets complicated. Ben Chavez, do you motherfucking know how hard it is to climb six stories down a drain pipe? No, you do not, because you went down the whites-only zip line like just because your dad is white you are grandfathered into the KKK. What you and Condor Bravo did to me was a hate crime on my calves. You hate leg muscles. Especially a black man's leg muscles.
February 10th, 2009 - Some Car Bullshit
Are you fucking serious!? Are you serious? What in the fuck? You motherfuckers gave Rudy a Aston-Martin for his mission car? I just saw that in the lab. It had laser beam headlights and skis and an ejector seat. Last mission car I got was a Chrysler 300. Which, to begin with, is a racist car to pick, but it wasn't even bulletproof. It didn't even have rims! No, no, I don't mean custom rims, I mean RIMS. It was four spare tires with no rims. The closest thing to a laser in that was the ArmorAll for the leather which the car did not even have because you got me the basic package with fabric seats. FABRIC. What are you worried I'm going to spill grape juice on your leather seat? Wipe some wing grease down the sides? This is plain and simple a racist double standard.
March 15th, 2009 - How a Gym Works
Chad Bennet and all the other people who participated in the Spring PT exam: you do not need to grade me on a curve. The reason I scored higher than everyone else has nothing to do with my skeleton or having extra muscles in my legs. There is this room on the third floor and it is full of machines and a track. And if you go down there once a day for about 30 minutes and you stop eating macaroni and mayo or whatever it is you eat then you will start running faster and doing more pull-ups. There are all sorts of machines for that in the gym. They're really fun. Look into them you racist fucks.
July 6th, 2009 - A Call to Colin Powell
Why, yes, Walt, I do know Colin Powell. He and I are best friends and my daughter and his daughter took not-swimming lessons together at the jungle rhythm academy in Harlem. No, it's no problem at all, I'd be happy to give him a call. I haven't been to the annual brothers conference since I joined the CIA, but I am sure Colin Powell will be happy to hear from me.
October 1st, 2009 - Heavy
Jan Krakowczyk, don't be briefing me asking me if I know what heavy water is like I am going to pour some in a pitcher with Kool-Aid. I went to school. I have my shit educated. I have atomic chemistry and nuclear surgery and shit about quantums you wouldn't even believe. I have insane degrees. Thermometers get jealous. So don't come in here trifling about heavy water. I know it isn't the juice you ring out of your shorts after you do 90 seconds of spin class.
October 20th, 2009 - Embarrassing
I am currently in Georgia and I do not mean Atlanta. I have spent the last hour with my skyhook balloon raised and inflated and the C-130s that are supposed to pick us up just keep flying past me. I know they saw me, I made eye-contact with the pilot. They just see the color of my skin and decide I'm not worth the trouble. Well, damn it, I've got Doctor Torvo's data tapes. I've got the formula for the armor solvent. Maybe if one of these flight crews can get over their prejudices we will be able to get the formula back to Langley and avert a global catastrophe. In the meantime, I sit here in a Georgian field, my extraction balloon fully deployed, while the townsfolk watch me. It's embarrassing.
I doubt you'll even read this, Kilgore, but if you do then you should be aware that you guys have given me skills. Skills that are in very high demand right now. Maybe you should protect your investment and do something to keep me here, otherwise I might just do the thing that would scare you the most: educate some black men.
As the 19th century diver approaches a giant clam, a flash of brilliant golden light flares from within the shell. I emerge in a swirl of bubbles and do the timeless universal underwater hand signals for the following: ZODIAC KILLER, KKK, BLOOD OF YOUTH
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