Posted on 12/03/2009 9:37:47 AM PST by nmh
Desirée Glapion Rogers is the descendant of a Creole voodoo priestess named Marie Laveau Glapion. The first time I meet her, she welcomes me into her East Wing lair—a rhythm and blues tune plays on a white iPod, a potted white orchid perches between two windows, fresh flowers sit on a heavy wooden desk. This is a woman who never sees a wilted bloom. The 49-year-old turns on just enough Southern charm to camouflage an aura of self-assuredness typically reserved for runway models or first ladies. Wearing a crisp white shirt, black patent flats and high-waisted navy slacks that would look terrible on almost anyone else, Rogers talks about her job as White House social secretary.
...
Determined to move to a place where it snows, says her brother, Rogers stayed up late at night studying, made straight A’s and ignored the bullies who teased her for being best friends with a little white girl. She moved to Chicago and married John Rogers, a well-connected son of a lawyer and civil rights activist and the great-grandson of a Tulsa, Okla., entrepreneur in the town’s “Black Wall Street,” home of the 1921 race riots that took a thriving black middle class and reduced it to homelessness and misery.
(Excerpt) Read more at magazine.wsj.com ...
At times Rogers can sound like she came from East Coast privilege. In fact, she’s a daughter of the middle-class Seventh Ward of New Orleans. Red beans and rice on Mondays. Fried fish and potato salad on Fridays. Dreams of Wellesley and Harvard as she walked to high school on St. Charles Avenue. A city councilman father who used to ask little Desirée to serve drinks or gumbo and help entertain when company arrived. A constant flow of company moved through Roy E. Glapion Jr.’s house—a revolving door of guests, the mayor, business leaders, Creole aristocracy, the local garbage man, the grocery store bagger. School nights didn’t exist in the Glapion house. “There was never any normal type of family,” says Roy A. Glapion, Rogers’ only sibling, a 47-year-old businessman and civil engineer who still lives in New Orleans. “You eat what you want to eat, when you want to eat it.”
I missed this little gem on Obama's social sexcretary.
Trash attracts trash.
This is all one needs to know.
Voodoo in the White House, on more than one level. Ole Desirée is going to fool around and put the boss in mortal danger if she’s not careful. My Lord what kind of people have been installed in our corridors of power? I didn’t used to think of myself as a snob, but when I read about the people the BOs have employed, all I can think of is what a humongous haul of human trash.
And three SS Agents just took the hit while Bambi and Rogers hide under the desk. Three more for the Obama bus.
That's a filthy heathen behavior, not a behavior of civilized parents who want to raise their kids with good norms and values.
Marie Laveau
Down in Louisiana, where the black trees grow
Lives a voodoo lady named Marie Laveau
Got a black cat's tooth and a Mojo bone
And anyone who wouldn't leave her alone
She'd go (growl) another man done gone.
She lives in a swamp in a hollow log
With a one-eyed snake and a three-legged dog
She's got a bent, bony body and stringy hair
If she ever seen y'all messin’ ‘round there
She'd go (growl) another man done gone.
And then one night when the moon was black
Into the swamp come handsome Jack
A no good man like you all know
(TALK) He was lookin’ around for Marie Laveau.
He said Marie Laveau, you handsome witch
Gimme a little a little charm that’ll make me rich
Gimme a million dollars and I tell you what I'll do
This very night, I'm gonna marry you
Then It'll be (growl) another man done gone.
So Marie done some magic, and she shook a little sand
Made a million dollars and she put it in his hand
Then she giggled and she wiggled, and she said Hey, Hey
I'm gettin’ ready for my weddin’ day.
But old handsome Jack he said goodbye Marie
You're too damned ugly for a rich man like me
Then Marie started mumblin’, her fangs started gnashin’
Her body started tremblin’, and her eyes started flashin’
And she went (growl) another man done gone.
So if you ever git down where the black trees grow
And meet a voodoo lady named Marie Laveau
If she ever asks you to make her your wife
Man, you better stay with her for the rest of your life
Or it'll be (growl) another man done gone.
Well Michelle My Belle is a known black racists. Not me saying this her own words and words of others. If Obama could fill all the positions with black faces regardless of qualifications he would. he like rev Wright is a black Klansman. How else despite the color of her skin and political cronyism did this idiot get to run anything but garbage detail in the WH.
“... all I can think of is what a humongous haul of human trash.”
You are putting it politely.
OTOH, I am horrified and on the OH I am beyond white hot.
How dare this trash, come in and run our country into the ground!
Thank you! I had to read the name twice to be sure I read it correctly. So there really was a Marie Laveau! :)
LOOK A THIS!
I missed this ... .
Calling them trash is a compliment.
You can have her!
Keep her!
How tasteful - her bra is visible and the hem looked raveled.
Whatever you or I think of Obama or his social secretary, I’m not sure what part of the passage you cite suggests “trash”.
I guess there’s a couple pearls going up her crack in the back.
That’s one hell of a Gumbo bib.
That’s nothing. My friend looks just the like the Voodoo Princess. Everytime she goes to New Orleans; people actually bow to her.
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