So you may have noticed how impressive a human, platform contributor, Mark Fountain is. Sexy, intelligent, charming and witty, his attributes are as rare as they are alluring. Yet this marvel may be much more than coincidence, but a genetic certainty. For you see, Mark Fountain is mixed race, and mixed race people always win.


Jew Gold. Jewish people always keep a bag of this round their necks. True story.

At the beginning of any race themed discourse, you should always start with half arsed observational prejudice. Think: I know some rich jews, therefore all jews are good with money…. or all jews are money grabbing bastards; depends on how post Weimar Rupublic you want to be about it. For this, I take one look at the English football team. Of all those currently in contention, Capello could easily pick a starting 11 that was completely mixed race.

David James, Glen Johnson, Wes Brown, Rio Ferdinand, Ashley Cole, Ashley Young, Jermaine Jenas, Tom Huddlestone, Aaron Lennon, Gabriel Agbonlahor, Theo Walcott

This could be a coincidence, but given that there are just under a million mixed race people in the UK, statistically, the squad should have one or two mixies, not a third of the whole group. But it doesn’t stop there, they also drive cars quickly (Lewis Hamilton), hit white balls into little holes (Tiger Woods), are babes (Alexa Chung), dominate talent shows (Leona Lewis, JLS, Alexandra Burke, Diversity) and totally wail on guitar (Slash). And then there’s fucking OBAMA.

Now I’m not going to assume you are interested in genetics, but there is some reason for this. So allow me to tell you what’s going on with an analogy of shopping. If you want a nice pair of trainers, and you shop in two Foot Lockers, you may find the pair you want. But if you shop in one Foot Locker and one Size?, the wider range that two different stores offer, means you’re more likely to get something that will attract dem bitches. That’s kinda how genetics works. Different races are like different shops. Parents of a different race will provide a wider range of genes, meaning you’re more likely to be awesome.

I found out these guys aren’t right about everything. Just most things.

One of my favourite things to do is read the eloquent rants of racial freedom fighters. Having the BNP or KKK demonstrate an exciting alternative science with cutting edge research and experimental grammar is truly a joy. There was one beautiful tale that the KKK wove, about how the races on Earth are like the colours in a rainbow: individually brilliant, but not to be mixed, lest you get some sky version of Audioslave. Yet in this rare instance, I find myself at odds with their thesis that you should keep a certain race pure because it has innate value. Anyone who’s seen a lustrous and dashing pure breed Labrador run straight into the wall its malfunctioning eyes didn’t see coming, can attest to that.

But what does this mean for us? If like me, you’re a lowly pure breed, then the dream is to get with someone who’s mixed race. But, unless you miraculously find a genetic superior ready to slum it, that’s pretty fucking unlikely. My one dimensional heritage has left me so consummately inferior that such a feat is truly beyond me. But there is hope. Find someone of a different race, and get with them, then your superhuman offspring will fend for you (with their enhanced sense of compassion, patience and empathy this will definitely happen). The key to this, is finding a mate with as few common ancestors as possible, thereby creating a gene pool as wide as Michael Macintyre’s jokes are of the mark. For me, depressingly Anglo Saxon, my dream date is anyone from mid Western Africa. Maybe we can get Cilla back for a one off special. My question to number one is, ‘How heterogeneous is our gene pool?’. No common ancestors you say? Ding ding. Lorra lorra blinda daaaaytaaaa. Cilla is going to have to buy a new hat.

Apparently, the one on the right isn’t mixed race. No seriously.

And if you’re lucky enough to be mixed race, when the time comes that you rule the planet, please, be gentle, it’s not our fault we’re worse than you, it was our parents’.

John Agard can forget about standing on one leg, and can start thinking about sitting on a throne.