Somewhere, Malcolm X’s ghost must be giggling hysterically. His hated, much-maligned house slaves have been dissed again, this time in the Quentin Tartantino movie “Django Unchained.”

Samuel L. Jackson plays the role of Stephen, the head house slave on Massa Calvin Candie’s Mississippi plantation. And no more villainous portrayal of a house slave has ever graced the silver screen.

Jackson’s Stephen is equal parts menacing, obsequious, conniving and manipulative. When escaped slave turned bounty hunter Django— played by Jamie Foxx— shows up at the plantation to rescue his wife, it’s Stephen who gleefully reveals Django’s true intentions to Candie.

In one scene, it is Stephen, not Candie, who has Django’s wife Broomhilda (no kidding; you have to see the movie to understand) put in the hot box to punish her for an escape attempt. It’s Candie who has to order Stephen to remove Broomhilda from the hot box.

 For those black folks who have been on their anti-house slave high horse for years—  hey, you know who you are— prepare to have a house-slave-hating field day if you watch “Django Unchained.” Just be advised that historical facts don’t support your state of high dudgeon.

Remember you read this here first: abolishing the death penalty is NOT the primary goal of Maryland’s anti-capital punishment brigade.

The next session of the Maryland Legislature is at our throats again. It hasn’t started yet (at press time), but already there is talk of repealing the death penalty.

Yes, you read that correctly: this state’s Democrats have legalized abortion and even made it so that a woman who can’t afford one gets one with YOUR tax dollars.

Now, those same Democrats are suggesting that we abolish the death penalty because, well, we would NEVER want an innocent person to be put to death.

To these folks, an unborn child doesn’t qualify as innocent, which is why they’re perfectly fine with thousands of them annually being sucked down a tube.

This is why, in the past, I’ve suggested that so-called “pro-choicers” have no part in the capital punishment debate. They haven’t a logical leg to stand on.

Devout Roman Catholics who are in accord with their Church’s position on both capital punishment and abortion— that both are reprehensible because life is precious— are more than welcome in the debate.

So-called “pro-choicers,” consider this an A and B conversation you need to see your way out of.

However, that is not the case. A Legislature dominated by pro-choice Democrats comfy with the practice of abortion will soon repeal a death penalty because they want to celebrate Be Kind To Murderers Week throughout the year.

I’ve already established that this bunch doesn’t want the death penalty repealed because of their reverence for life, whether in the womb or out. So what is their motive?

Why, to feel noble about themselves. Once the death penalty is repealed, trust me, they’ll be strutting around across the state with their chests thrust out.

But beware, people who value feeling noble about themselves can never be satisfied. Once the death penalty is repealed, they’ll want to feel noble about something else.

Life without parole will be the next to go. Those now against the death penalty will hop on this feeble horse and ride it into the ground, contending that life without parole is too harsh a punishment.

In case you think I’m making this all up, I would advise you that there are people who have already advocated banning life without parole.

Google “life without parole opponents.” I did, and here is the first thing my search engine pulled up:

“Life Without Parole: A Different Death Penalty.” That was from the October 26, 2012 edition of The Nation magazine. Third from the top was this: “Life Without Parole Is A Terrible Idea.” That was from the April 27, 2012 edition of The Daily Beast.

This one was next on the list: “Life Without Parole Is Worse Than The Death Penalty.” That was on the website: www.debate.org.

Once Maryland’s noble Democrats get life without parole outlawed, they’ll go after life WITH parole, using the same argument: that a life sentence, even with parole, is too lengthy and too harsh.

Yes, there are people that already support this. Google “life sentence opponents” and you might find this, from the Google news website: “Opponents of Life Sentence Facing Delicate Problem.”

So once Maryland’s noble Democrats— alas, there aren’t nearly enough Republicans in the state to cure their insanity— get life without parole and life with parole banished, what’s left?

How about prison sentences they consider too lengthy? Trust me, with some Democrats, any sentence lasting longer than 90 days is too lengthy.

How about prisons? Yes, there are people who believe society would be best served by not having prisons at all. What they would do with a Darrell Brooks, who torched the home of Baltimore’s Dawson family on October 16, 2002 and killed seven people?

Your guess is as good as mine. But you can be certain of one thing: many of the folks pushing for the abolition of prisons will be some of those same noble Maryland Democrats.

One measly movie, yet so many reactions!

I spent part of New Year’s Day ensconced in a seat at the AMC theaters in Owings Mills, taking in Quentin Tarantino’s new film “Django Unchained.”

It was either see, Django or “Lincoln,” and I kind of know how the Lincoln story turns out. Not very well for Mr. Lincoln, as I recall.

I went to the 2:00 p.m. show, and at precisely two o’clock— big props to AMC management for punctuality— the trailers started rolling. However, I didn’t see every trailer, which brings me to musing number one:

Balti-morons, is it THAT hard to have your butts in a theater seat BEFORE show time?

At least four different times, I had to stand up and accommodate people arriving after 2:00 p.m. so they could take their seats. That’s annoying enough when it happens only once. After multiple times, it becomes downright infuriating. And it’s RUDE, darn it!

So, my fellow Balti-morons, proper theater-going etiquette requires that you be in a seat BEFORE show time. Would you want someone climbing all over YOU to find a seat?

Once the seemingly endless stream of trailers concluded, viewers finally got to see the movie. What was the very first graphic? (Which I was kind of happy to see, as it promotes literacy.)

“Texas, 1858. Two years before the Civil War.”

This brings me to musing number two:

 So the Civil War— or the War Between the States, or the War for Southern Independence, as the deluded guys in the Sons of Confederate Veterans euphemistically call it— started in 1860?

 No, it did not. It started in April of 1861 and ended in the same month four years later.

 Even Wikipedia managed to get this right. I don’t expect Tarantino, who directed and wrote the film, to be up on historical details. He is what he is, and he’s darned good at it: a writer and director.

 However, does that mean the guy can’t find someone to edit his scripts for accuracy, among other things?

This has been a pet peeve of mine for quite a while: the rise of the Internet age has spawned the notion that editors are no longer necessary. We have people that truly believe that since they have a computer in their homes and can plop their no-writing butts down in front of them, that they are, the next H.L. Mencken.

Go to any website on the Internet— especially those started by those who consider themselves “citizen journalists”— and you’ll find writing that is a hot mess.

On at least one website, President Obama was referred to as our “commander and chief.”

Anybody instructed in even fifth grade civics knows that the president of the United States is also the commander IN chief of the armed forces, not the “commander and chief.” I caught this on Google news just after another New York City subway passenger was pushed off a platform to his death: “Man fatally pushed on to subway tracks.”

I’m sure that whatever else the push was, it certainly wasn’t fatal. What was fatal was the man being crushed to death by an oncoming train.

Google later corrected the egregious gaffe, but the entire point to editing is to correct stuff BEFORE it’s posted, not after.

While Tarantino goofed on the year the Civil War started, I have to give him some props for letting his viewers know that French writer Alexandre Dumas, author of “The Three Musketeers,” was black.

Those viewers who had read J.A. Rogers “World’s Greatest Men of Color” already knew that. Those who did not, have now been informed.

I can only hope that members of the Motion Picture Academy of Arts and Sciences— the folks that determine who wins or doesn’t win an Oscar— are informed enough about Samuel L. Jackson’s performance in “Django

Unchained” to give him the award they should have, but didn’t, give him for “Pulp Fiction.”

Jackson stole the show— as he usually does— with his portrayal of Stephen, the house slave obsequiously dedicated to his massa, Calvin Candie. Jackson even managed to outdo Christoph Waltz, who played Django’s partner King Schultz, and that takes some doing.

Academy members have a chance to do the right thing this time. Will they?

We’ll know when Oscar time rolls around.

Is it over yet? Christmas— that is. Christmas 2012 has come and gone, has it not?

That means— HALLALEUJAH!— another one-year break from Christmas music.

OK, I’m kidding a little. Most Christmas music isn’t that bad. Some is downright superb, in fact.

My favorite Christmas song is “The Little Drummer Boy,” but only the Harry Simeon Chorale’s version will do for me. It’s just human voices accompanied by the striking of a piano. That’s all that is needed to tell the simple tale of a poor boy that can only play his drum as a gift to the Christ child.

there are other versions of “The Little Drummer Boy,” but the one by the Harry Simeon Chorale reaches the level of perfection. And we know what happens when people try to improve on perfection.

Good Christmas music aside, we can agree that there is some Christmas music that absolutely, positively has to go, can’t we?

Yes, I’m thinking Christmas rap songs here. A plea to America’s rappers: PLEASE don’t do this.

And I’m not one of those old “fuddy duddies” that doesn’t like rap. Fact is, I do like rap. As I’m fond of saying, rap helped kill disco; I owe rap and rappers a debt I can never repay them.

Before all you disco fans get your noses out of joint: yes, I am joking. You’ll have to decide for yourselves whether or not my quip was funny. What can’t be denied is my quip isn’t exactly true.

Actually, it was disco that helped rap become a big-time music genre. Wasn’t one, of the first rap mega-hits “Rapper’s Delight” by The Sugar Hill Gang?

And didn’t they sample heavily from Chic’s disco mega-hit “Good Times”?

OK, total truth be told, the Sugar Hill Gang didn’t just sample from “Good Times.” They ripped it off completely.

But back to the Christmas songs that really, really, REALLY should never be played again. In addition to rap Christmas songs, I’m adding these to the list: ANY Christmas song done by Elvis Presley— and no, unlike disco’s fans, I’m not making apologies to any Elvis fans out there. His Christmas songs have got to go. How bad are they?

The Porky Pig version of “Blue Christmas” is better than the Elvis version. Yeah, I said it. The Pig sounds better than Elvis. There’s a movie that’s currently running on HBO called “Looney Tunes 2: Back in Action.” In it Bugs Bunny sings Elvis’ “Viva Las Vegas.”

BUGS BUNNY sounds better than Elvis. Oh, Elvis was kind of good, I suppose. But his contemporaries Chuck Berry, Little Richard and Jerry Lee Lewis were better.

And it’s worth noting that there were no “London Elvis Presley Sessions.” Why is that significant?

There were “London Chuck Berry Sessions,” in which British rockers played with the American rock and roll legend.

There are “London Howling Wolf Sessions” and “London Muddy Waters Sessions,” with those limey rockers playing with these legendary American blues artists.

Why didn’t British rockers want to play with Elvis? He wasn’t that good; neither are his Christmas songs.

Rounding out the list of those who should never have their Christmas songs played ever again: THE BEACH BOYS!

Yes, I might have to go into a witness protection program after that one. Offending Beach Boys fans probably isn’t a good idea.

However, there is one thing about the music of The Beach Boys: it probably should have stayed on the beach. That would be the proper place for it. And their Christmas songs aren’t even fit for the beach.

So, for Christmas 2013, radio program executives, please: no more rap, Elvis or The Beach Boys.