Fucking liar

“[T]he fact is that people are going to give a light-skinned girl more opportunities than dark-skinned boys. People fear black boys. By the time my brothers were in high school they were six feet tall. I’m five foot nothing and weigh 100 pounds. ... I honestly believe that’s what made the difference.”

Those are the words of Margaret B. Jones, a 33-year-old woman – half white, half Native American – raised by a black foster mom in South Central Los Angeles. Her book, “Love and Consequences: A Memoir of Hope and Survival,” just came out.

It’s the story of how young Margaret used to run with the Bloods – along with her foster brothers – and sell drugs... until she turned her life around and left the gang-banging behind.

Guess what?

Fucking lies. All of it.

Her real name is Margaret “Peggy” Seltzer. She’s white. Just plain ol’ white. And she grew up comfortable in white-ass Sherman Oaks with her natural family.

Matter fact, her own sister snitched her out after she saw Margaret’s picture in the New York Times last week.

Oh, the New York Times raved about this book and its “colorful, streetwise” slang. (Margaret didn’t use the letter ‘C’ in dialogue; she always replaced it with a ‘K’ because Bloods hate the letter ‘C.’ Because it represents Crips.)

“She captures... the brutal realities of a place where children learn to sleep on the floor to avoid the random bullets that might come smashing through the windows and walls at night,” wrote Times book critic Michiko Kakutani.

Kakutani wasn’t the only sucker. Alice Walker’s daughter – writer Rebecca Walker – called “Love and Consequences” “a must-read for anyone looking to deepen their understanding of contemporary American culture. ... Margaret Jones uses her own life to tear down the walls between South Central and the world beyond.”

Here’s a taste of Chapter One (as excerpted by the New York Times last week), in which Margaret describes seeing an “OG” get gunned down on the street when she was 12:

“[T]he more I thought about it, the more I just hated the Crips. I thought about the homies speeding off after the Crip car. ... I vowed to be like those Bloods, to get even. We were on our own in the City of Angels, and we were smoking [epithet], sending them to heaven every day just to keep the name.”

(That unfit-to-print “epithet” must be niggas. I’d bet any amount of money.)

Fuck me, this shit makes me sick.

Wanna know what’s worse? In a confessional phone interview yesterday with a New York Times reporter, this lying bitch had the nerve to say that she did it to help black people... like the ones she met while working in a gang-prevention program. Margaret Seltzer says black folks wanted her to write this book!

“I was in a position where at one point people said you should speak for us because nobody else is going to let us in to talk,” she said. “Maybe it’s an ego thing – I don’t know. I just felt that there was good that I could do and there was no other way that someone would listen to it.”

Sick lying bitch.

The Penguin Group, which published “Love and Consequences,” has recalled all copies of the book.

That’s not enough.

For starters, Seltzer’s ignorant, tone-deaf editor – Sarah McGrath – owes an apology to the black community of South Los Angeles.

(Ms. McGrath also ought to make amends to Rebecca Walker – whom she has edited – for getting Walker to endorse these lies.)

McGrath’s bosses at the Penguin Group should make some gesture of contrition and good will also. They were probably already counting the money they expected to make... peddling black pain and death to white readers.

Before the hustle went wrong, Margaret Seltzer said her agent had also sold the book to a Danish publisher. “I keep thinking to myself why would someone in Denmark want to read what I have to say?,” Margaret said (in an interview recently pulled from Penguin’s website, but archived here).

Why would somebody in Denmark want to read about black ghetto pathology? Come on, homegirl... you know the answer to that one.

If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have gone to the trouble of cooking up just the right batch of bullshit.

(The title was originally announced as “Blood and Consequences: Coming of Age in an L.A. Gang.” But the pimp-daddies at Penguin no doubt figured that having “Love,” “Hope” and “Survival” in the title would better suit it to Oprah’s Book Club.)