Day Seven: Parting Shots
"How could I have ever considered cutting off those beautiful balls."
Now that the shock and unabashed delight of the Obama Victory is beginning to wear off a bit, I think I'm finally at a place where I can begin focusing on the absurdity surrounding it. I'll be using this post as an excuse to provide a little bit of color commentary on some of the things that went down the night of November 4, 2008, and fire a few rounds at the clowns who participated in the circus.
a) McRedneck - I KNOW that I wasn't the only person who peeped that mean-mugging, mustachioed hillbilly holding his son at the McCain concession speech. My friends, that wasn't just disappointment on his face. He looked like, at any minute, he was going to pass his son off to the nearest person, go to his Ford F150, pull out his shotgun, and shoot the first black person he saw. That man was seething. My hope is that the Secret Service interpreted that look the same way I did and had a long talk with Billy Bob.
b) Sarah Flailin' - What Now? That's the question that media outlets collectively posed regarding the pointlessly ambitious, high-heeled bag of potatoes that currently (and thankfully still) governs the state of Alaska. I'm not sure why so many white folks are attempting to attribute a complexity to her that simply doesn't exist. The perennial love affair that whites have with themselves never ceases to amaze me. So, what now? I'll take a stab at it. She'll sink back into her Alaskan purgatory with the First Dude, her kids: Tractor, Truck, Trailer, Trick and Tramp, sit on her back porch monitoring Russia with a pair of binoculars, and dream about a time when a woman who didn't know that Africa is a continent almost made it to the White House.
c) "O" Most Famous - Dave Chappelle once mused that he didn't realize how famous a president could be. He said of Bill Clinton that his fame was so great a person could fellate him and then she would become famous. She could even go on to write a book about her knee-chaffing experiences, for the simple act of servicing a presidential penis had turned her into a qualified author. No one, according to the Chappelle, had a pick up line quite as compelling: "S_ck my d_ck, there's a future in it for you!" Not until Oprah Winfrey leaned on a stranger's back in Grant Park and instantly made him a sought after celebrity did I realize just how spot on Dave Chappelle had been.
d) Will I. Am - I didn't really expect to see Dude.
e) The Tears of a Clown - Perhaps I've been a bit too harsh. I'd initially interpreted Jesse Jackson's public weeping in Grant Park as a cynical, last ditch attempt to place himself in the headlines. I thought, surely, that a man who'd whispered malintentions toward Barack Obama only a few short months ago could not have undergone such an extraordinary change of heart. These tears were simply a put on - a present day version of staining his shirt red with MLK's blood to pretend that he was more connected to the moment than he actually was. But I think now that I may have misjudged Jesse. I think now that his tears were genuine. I think he considered that he would no longer have backdoor access to a Democratic White House. I think he realized that he would no longer be on standby to soothe the soul of a libidinous president. I think he knew that he'd been unceremoniously removed from the gravy train. I believe that this series of realizations led him to cry like he'd lost a loved one. I guess, in a sense, he had. The night of November 4th, Jesse Jackson finally came to the conclusion that many of us reached a long time ago - he'd lost himself.