Thank God Racism Is Over!
It’s a balmy evening in Monroe, LA. The rotating fan sends a hum through a messy basement where a young boy types frantically. The smile on his face is only slightly outshone by the light emanating from his DIY Linux laptop. He intertwines his fingers, stretches, and cracks his knuckles. He takes a swig of orange Fanta before returning to type. His fingers pound away at the keys like Irish clog dancers. The computer screen reads: