Defining Myself

winslow (winz-lo)
v. intr.
1. To be inhabited by multiple personalities, each one more anti-social than the last.
2. To be out of place or distinctly different in a disquieting way.
3. To appear wistful.
4. To be both overly humble and obnoxiously arrogant.

v. intr.
1. To make harmfully truthful statements at inopportune times in inappropriate places.
e.g. “Sally winslowed everyone at the party last night.”

n. A slender stick used to prop open a window.

Hilar-obama-me

Hilar-obama-me

What do I do? Oh my word.

I have long had a sure fire methodology, nay algorithm, for voting on people in elections:

foreach candidate c;

first, if ( c is woman )
and ( c is hot )
or ( c was once hot )
or ( c is liberal )
pick();

next, if ( c is black )
and (c is not Republican)
// I hate black republicans, effin blupublicans.
and ( c is not too black or religious )
pick();

next, if ( c is brown ) pick();

next, if ( c is liberal ) pick();

next, if ( c has a cool sounding name ) pick();

end;

This has been simple and effective for 20 years of voting. I have never deviated from it.

I like to redress historical hypocritical discrimination with reverse discrimination, I just adore reverse discrimination.

Not that I don’t like white guys, I do, many of my good friends are white guys, seriously.

So, this has got to be a election made for me.
It’s Super Tuesday.
I’m a Californian.
My vote matters.

Clinton? Obama? Easy.
Well, months ago it was.

Hilary.
Woman. True.
Liberal. True.
Once Hot. True.
Currently hot. True.
That’s right,
True. Dammit,
Cougar. Grrrrrrrr.

What happened to me?
I know not what kind of Purple Lipped Mojo
Obama’s slinging?
But, somehow,
He slung it on me,
And I’m starting to believe.
I believe.
Take me home to, Oprah, I mean Jesus,
no, I mean Oprah.

[ I misspelled “Oprah”, “Ophra” and my spell checker corrected me –
that’s what I’m talking about. ]

You can’t hide from the truth.

So I started to believe.
New world, Black Man, Multi-racial, Well educated, Cool. Mulatto Yo.
Obama and me could be pals. Maybe even an older brother he could be for me.
The older brother that I never had.
Someone to buy me beer,
or help me with high school debate tactics.
Keep me focused on my studies.
Give me the brotherly guidance
and confidence I’ve always lacked.
Where were you Obama,
I needed you!

Do I really like Hilary?
Or do I just not want to admit to myself that I love Obama,
for fear that my love will not be reciprocated.

Am I just afraid to hope, to dream,
that someone like me could be pres-o-dent?
Has our time come?
Is post-racial American here today?

No. Not Yet.

Not yet not because there is something wrong with Obama, or America, or me, but all of us.

Not yet, for the same reasons that I find Obama appealing. The same reasons America,
Or some of America does.
That he is in the mold of MLK.
Great Orator, Inpirational,
Smart yet accessible.
When we are ready to accept some boring ugly black guy,
then we are in like Flynn.

But Hilary is boring.
We know it. She knows it.
She’s not sexy to most,
Me excluded.

And yet, we are ready to accept her. That’s progress!

Ok. That’s all bullshit.
Me trying to get on NPR.

Who do I want running things.
A white woman.
That’s right, dammit.
Like my momma.
(Sorry momma)
Like my wife.
Why would I want
a black man running things
Sure he’d legalize pot,
But black men ain’t shit,
I ain’t shit.
I’ve lived with white women most of my life,
except for college ( when I should have ),
and the time I lived in a ½ bedroom shitbox in Oakland,
and let me tell you I have had an okay life, really.

So, America let’s live with Hilary for four years and you could do the same.