She's since posted photos of her son in "brown face" and cried and cried the biggest crocodile tears in the history of false regret time and time again - when she wasn't refusing to do the interviews she volunteered to do to answer questions and face her critics and critique.
Yet - f*ck it, right? We live in America. Our attention spans are short. Our memories bad. Our want/need to forgive strong. You're sending a clear message, ABC and your "Dancing with the Stars" show (now in its 479th season and using the loosest definition of "stars" in the history of stardom).
I get that these are my "Days of Awe" when I'm supposed to believe in starting again and second chances and new beginnings. I am well aware that it is technically a sin to not extend these opportunities on to Ms. Deen (who I have to presume is not at all Jewish (unlike the equally Southern, far more talented (in terms of cooking, history, context, and insight), far more black, and far less racist . . . and generally great Michael Twitty)) but I just can't. The good news? I'm in the very, very, very small minority on this one. I'm the only one in my HOUSE that thinks Paula Deen should take her many, many millions and go be racist on her own time and in her own private world.
But, hey, 'murrukuh. It turns out you can say and do whatever you want, Paula Deen.
We'll make time for you on prime time, broadcast television and let you put on a sequined gown and dance your racist ass off. Sell some pots and pans. Say "y'all." Spray tan. Whatever you want, love. We've got your back, you horrible racist.