My 7 Stages of Obama

1. Shock and Disbelief.

I can’t believe a brotha might be president. Holy fucking shit. If I knew that, I would have studied in college, went to law school, not done as many drugs, married a Black woman, cultivated a powerful network of peers instead of the losers I hung out with.
( Sorry, losers. I love you. )

2. Denial.

He can’t win somebody’s gonna kill him. They have too, right? They don’t let niggas run the fucking grocery store, how they gonna let one run the country.

3. Bargaining.

Maybe I can get something out of this, hey Obama, hook a brother up. It’s hard being a webstitute. The shit I got to do to survive.

4. Guilt.

Man, I feel bad for hatin, O. I’m sorry, I didn’t believe in you. It’s me, it’s definitely me, not you. I really am a just contrary unmotivated Gen X bastard. I’m so fucking ashamed of myself I can’t take it.

5. Anger.

This shit is making me mad, Obama this, Obama that.They love Obama in Germany. They love Obama in France. They don’t love me in these places. I don’t fly, but still. They don’t love me anywhere. I’m Halfrican American too, shit dammit.

6. Depression.

All I want to do is lay around and watch Maria Bartiromo all day, and eat bread and cheese and eat candy and drink wine. The pain. It’s like spiders crawling around on the inside of my skull, no, not spiders, roaches, spiders walk lightly. I can’t lift my arm, seriously, I’m so fuckin sad, I can’t lift my fucking arm. Sigh.
I’m not sure the depression was Obama’s fault, though.

7. Acceptance

What do I care? I loved Clinton, I never got a cookie or nothin after he won.
So whatever. Obama wins. All’s right with the world. I’ll come to love Obama. Then after awhile he’ll screw up somehow ushering in an era of greed and desolation. He’s just as likely to fall into a mess o white intern cooter as Bill, or John, or myself for that matter. I simply have the distinct advantage of never encountering that hazard in my day to day, that’s what spares me. I’m not gonna criticize the guy.

Then I’ll just feel bad about that as people are criticizing him, it’s inevitable that we (brown people, and all the other hues as well) we will get what we want, be happy, come to regret it, then be denied what we want, regret, and come to be happy, and so on and so on.

Que sera, sera.