It’s a question most of us ask ourselves when his face pops up in our newspapers or on our television screens, when we hear his voice coming through our radios, when we hear his name in print. How the hell did Al Motherfuckin’ Sharpton become the voice of all black people? A fabulous opinion piece in the Washington Post* examines just that question, asserting that, in the past, most leaders — Harriet Tubman, W.E.B. DuBois, Malcolm X, and even Jesse Jackson — were required to actually lead, in some way, before they got the black leader crown. But not Rev. Al.

Any other public figure with such a comic resume and dubious traction among his constituency would find himself swiftly jettisoned from the Rolodex of reporters and network anchors. But Sharpton endures. He is black America’s first virtual leader, a product of a collective longing for the romance of the 1960s and an inability to cope with the complexities of 21st century African Americans.

National Public Radio recently held a discussion titled, “Who’s in Charge of Today’s Civil Rights Activism?” The host asked, “If there was an ‘American Idol’ for civil rights leader, who would be the winner?” The panelists intelligently declined to answer, but in the question we have the seeds of Sharpton’s ubiquity. The implicit idea is that there is always one person through whom the goals and aspirations of black people can be channeled.

This was always fiction.

To me, the worst part about Al Sharpton as our leader and mouthpiece is that I don’t really think it matters that most of us pretty much despise him. The people, the majority of whom are white, who are in charge of the various media outlets that continue to take his word as black gospel don’t know or care. We’re stuck with him.

*via Racialicious