I’m disappointed that someone didn’t nominate me for the SPLC’s "Forty to Watch." I don’t know the others in the list, but it would be an honor to be classed with such men as Michael Hill, John Cripps, Sam Francis, and Jared Taylor. As thanks for this recognition, let us read the lyrics to The Ballad of Morris Disease, by Larry Smith, dedicated to the founder of the SPLC. – Monika Junghans-Jones

Sure you’ve got ambitions, MJ, but get in line. Having been there when Larry first sang these lyrics at an annual League convention, I not only know these gents but am also waiting to be made famous by Mo’s attention and vitriol, asking no more than that he spell my name right. – Olaf Childress

The Ballad of Morris Disease

Down in the heart of Dixie, nineteen seventy-one
After the marching was over and the danger was done
Come a junk-mail genius with his eyes on the prize
A civil rights cash-cow he could parasitize
He’d skim a hundred million just as slick as you please
One hell of a huckster name of Morris Disease.

He sends letters to lefties that fill them with dread
Says the Ku Klux Klan is hiding under the bed
The Boy Scouts is a hate group so’s the SCV
And the United Daughters of the Confederacy
Mo’s the man to stop ’em everybody agrees
So don’t fret send a check to Morris Disease.

He gets money from movie stars, they pay him to lie
Like the million dollar contracts with the FBI
He’s got black grannies giving up their funeral stash
Miami retirees send their soda can cash
Nobody’s better putting on the squeeze
What a ham, superman Morris Disease

Well the TV reporters are his biggest fans
Bunch of Pavlov dogs he’s got ’em licking his hand
He sends ’em scary stuff to titillate the viewer
They couldn’t care less, it’s all horse manure
Tonight we’ll get to see him on all our TVs
Some more free publicity for Morris Disease

His Southern Poverty Palace says he built for the Negro
Two million dollar fountain that he built for his ego
He’s a hobbing and a nobbing with the liberal elite
They get groupies too you know, ain’t life sweet
He’s a crooked crusader; we should fall to our knees
Show respect, genuflect to Morris Disease

When it’s time to relax he likes those kinky games
He’s very creative, puts Bill Clinton to shame
So what if he wants to keep his wife and his mistress
He’s a civil rights icon so it’s nobody’s business
He’s the prince of perversion, the Sultan of sleaze
It’s how the Honky got the handle of Morris Disease

Well he’s got a new shill name of Mark Toopok
He’s the new jive slinger Morris done got too hot
The Harpers boys are on to him they say he’s a fake
His best friend Farmer says he’s on the take
He got taken to court by the EEOC
’Cause he wouldn’t let no brothers be an employee

Well you got your Jesse Jackson, MLK’s replacer
The reverend Al Sharpton, racial ambulance chaser
Kweezie Mfume keeping hate alive
Johnnie Conyers rapping reparations jive
But the king of the cons, got the real expertise
Is lily white, sodomite Morris Disease