Rachel Dolezal Releases Her Book

If you were waiting for the release of “In Full Color: Finding My Place in a Black and White World” before fully committing to Rachel Dolezal being completely nuts, fair enough. It’s out. She is.

Dolezal had changed her name legally to Nkechi Amare Diallo, to align herself with the black shooting victim of NYPD police, Amadou Diallo, but returned to Dolezal when her publicist reminded her that her Google search ranking was her lone marketable asset.

Dolezal’s memoirs consists of an extremely tedious case for why her black identification is an entirely logical premise. Also how her insanely abusive childhood made her this way, so in the very least, throw a hapless wigger a bone. 

If Dolezal’s childhood tales are to be believed, her parents were literal monsters who abused the living crap out of their two biological children, and four African kids they adopted as write-offs to avoid paying taxes. So Charlize Theron. Even from this early age, Dolezal noted she was the comparatively darkest skinned white person in her family and started choosing from the Different Strokes skin tones section of the Crayola box for self-portraits:

Peach simply didn’t resonate with me

Dolezal claims the housework was torturous and dusk to dawn, reminiscent of “indentured servants” and the black slavery experience in America. The ritualistic punishments were constant and disturbing.

[Dolezal] describes vomiting trying to down a large bowl of oatmeal, only to have her parents force her to eat the vomit-filled leftovers after school.

Her dad and biological brother were often naked and both molested her, while Dolezal was forced to take primary care over the neglected African youngster in the house. Dolezal claims this environment and that weird Crayola story unleashed her identification toward black. That still doesn’t make sense. Though psychologically you might understand how a sexually abused kid from a fundamentalist reclusive mountain family might end up believing all sorts of crazy shit. Have you seen the Duggars? 

It’s worth comparing Dolezal’s “identify as black” inanity to the rest of the “I identify as” movement of modern day. If a dude can suddenly remember he’s always been a woman, why can’t a beatdown chick of Germanic descent decide she’s black? Dolezal’s very clear that she is not of African-American descent, merely identifies as black. 

What if Dolezal’s sane and we’re all crazy? That seems particularly unlikely. If her disturbing family tales of being beaten with glue-sticks while forced to weave dog hair into yarn, and her older brother sucking on her pubescent nipples are anywhere close to valid, you might want to give her a Jesus, that’s disturbing pass. Like how you view Tatum O’Neal’s drug problem. Dad made you sleep in bed with him while he fucked other women. Pass on the first three heroin rehabs for you and your brother.

What Dolezal intended as a literary project to open peoples eyes on how race is simply a social construct ought turn into a mission to get up in those Eastern Washington and Western Idaho mountains with a flood of DCFS investigators. Check the Next Door app for who to visit first. The nosy neighbors always know. You did not expect this Dolezal story to get even more disturbing.