Mr. Oppressor (OPSOR), the editor of a major newspaper, was throwing darts at an atlas on his wall when Mr. Oppressee (OPSEE), the editor of a small minority paper, entered the office.

OPSEE: Sir, I believe we have a meeting to attend to concerning the systematic oppression of my community in relation to your newspaper.

OPSOR: Oh, yes, Mr. Oppressee. Welcome, welcome. Have a seat. I was looking forward to talking with you. How exactly can I help you?

OPSEE: Well, sir, it is your oppressive nature I wanted to talk to you about.

OPSOR: Oh yes, that. What would you like to know about it?

OPSEE: Well, it is completely obvious through the stories you print and the negative image you give to our oppressed community, that you wish in some way to degrade us and strip us of all dignity.

OPSOR: Why, young man, that is a very perceptive mind you have. Of course we do. That is the purpose of our newspaper.

OPSEE: You mean to admit to that?

OPSOR: No use in denying it, it’s there. Surely, our stories are very intricately and discreetly designed to perfect the negative stereotypes we wish to portray of your community to our community. It has been the mission of this paper since its very beginning, and my job is to uphold that tradition.

OPSEE: Don’t you find this mission to be reprehensible to the good of a society trying to make its way toward a tolerating democracy?

OPSOR: Oh, no. That is all a big joke you got from our propagandic articles. Democracy? Don’t kid me, young man. None of us believe it, and none of us ever will. We have been trying to fool you, and we have mostly succeeded. But you, sir, have obviously caught us in the act. My hat goes to you.

OPSEE: And you are proud of what you do?

OPSOR: Proud as a tot on a bowling ball! Between you and I, we have a secret file on exactly how many of your community we have humiliated, embarrassed, defamed, defrauded, swindled, put into bankruptcy, gotten arrested, exposed for drug use—the list is endless. This is such a complete mastery of oppression on you, the oppressee, that I cannot help but to look myself in the mirror every day and think what crimes people like you would be committing without me.

OPSEE: Mr. Oppressor, you infuriate me beyond belief! I have never seen such a cruel and disgusting excuse for a human being in my life!

OPSOR: Oh, please. Don’t act so oppressed. If I didn’t do this, you would accuse me of it anyway. I haven’t always been like this but after being convinced by people in your community that I am an oppressor, I changed my name and that has been my job ever since. Who are you to get angry anyway? I see your name is changed, too.

OPSEE: Only out of necessity, Mr. Oppressor.

OPSOR: Ditto for me, Mr. Oppressee.

Mr. Oppressee walked out of the room. Mr. Oppressor threw a dart at his atlas. The dart hit a tiny dot on the map called DeKalb.