From the department of confusing 2008 with 1988

Stanley Crouch just can't quit Louis Farrakhan. Or Jesse Jackson. Or Tawana Brawley. Or gangsta rap. It's always nice to see a writer who has repeatedly physically assaulted folks for the crime of disagreeing with him, get on his moral high horse. The sad thing is that I agree with some of his point--but they're buried beneath his contempt for the 90s. These guys are going to be fighting with each other until the end. It's like their only way of seeing the world. The young people who organized for Barack ain't thinking about Farrakhan.