Was Obama ever going to get the Archie Bunker vote?(Vibe.com)

(originally posted at Vibe.com on 5/14/08)

Early this morning, mere hours after Barack Obama's blowout defeat in West Virginia, I uncharacteristically sat in front of my overpriced television set with a bowl of "Total" cereal and watched the movie "Juno" for the first time. Usually I wouldn't get within a square mile of a tasteless cereal with the sex appeal of a forceful kick to the groin, but being that I suddenly have a desire to see my penis once again, and my girlfriend words "every inch counts honey" haunting my every thought - I've found myself giving up late-night snacking in the name of a thinner waistline and people no longer asking me if I have a thyroid problem. As for "Juno", a lighthearted 2007 comedic romp about teen pregnancy(only Hollywood could glamorize such topics), I solely decided to force myself to watch that movie to see what all the fuss was about - solely to avoid the morning news shows with nonsensical coverage where Hillary Clinton talking points about her West Virginia win would get clumsily get regurgitated ad nauseum. After seeing of all the anecdotal evidence coming out of West Virginia suggesting that the good people of that state put their kids to sleep at night to the soothing sounds of "Mississippi Burning", I just wanted to avoid hearing some pundit asking, "Why is Barack Obama having such a hard time with working class whites?" Which forces me to ask, In terms of West Virginia, when exactly was Obama ever going to get the Archie Bunker vote anyway?(Read more here)

Hip Hop Post Coital: MC Hypocrisy

The syllables that are about to pass through my hairy mandible concern me more than a random cancer scare or a Lil Kim poetry reading - but now that I have a girlfriend, porn just doesn't do it for me the same way it once did, back when I was a single recluse whose neighbors figured that I probably collected things like toe-clippings and dead bodies. Oh the horror, I went from a guy with so many porn titles in my grasp that my eardrums were constantly bombarded with a beautiful chorus of angels every time I opened my DVD cabinet. But now the sight of that same stack of pornographic filth makes me feel sort of like a loser, just imagining all the virtual continents of kids I've gleefully disregarded as I watched some chick get triple penetrated in a vat of butter or some hapless woman fictitiously forced to give multiple blow-jobs while kneeling on a mound of bubble-wrap. Its not that looking at strange breasts has lost all of its luster to me, last week as I was passionately arguing with a stripper that Kobe Bryant should be the MVP this year she flashed me her titties mid sentence, immediately making me forget what I was talking about as I exhibited a thousand yard stare while saying "Boobies..boobies..boobies" for the next 10 minutes, so I still maintain my scumbag bona fides. That being said, even though my old lady would be none too pleased if she ever found out that I used a farm animal in an analogy of our sex life - but in terms of me falling out of love with porn, its like continuing to force down bland ass turkey burgers when there are perfectly healthy cows grazing in the back yard. Shit, I'm also pretty sure that she wouldn't be cool with me publicly dictating our pillow talk either, oh well, its like a soldier who finds himself in combat only a few months after joining the military - her ass knew what she was signing up for.

(Public Enemy's "Welcome to the Terrordome" playing in the background)

HumanityCritic:(rolling off of girlfriend) Are you alright? I didn't hurt you did I?

Girlfriend:(chuckling) I've had more physically traumatic Swedish massages. Oh, congratulations, at least you made it to the chorus of "Welcome to the Terrordome" this time.

HumanityCritic: Just be glad that I don't make a habit of blowing your back out, setting the bar so high where one off performance would be utterly disappointing - with me, if I just happen to throw you a "good one", its Christmas time and shit.

Girlfriend: No wonder you were single for so long?

HumanityCritic: What??

Girlfriend: Nothing, nothing. Hey, I wanted to ask you about that dude you almost punched at my brother's house.

HumanityCritic: You mean your brother, don't you?

Girlfriend:(shaking her head) Yes, Yes.. I was just trying to block out that uncomfortable fact because it would just reinforce my family's desperate pleas to leave you... Anyway, what was up with your long, breathy diatribe about what he liked "not being Hip Hop" - ranting and raving about how the violence and misogyny is counter-intuitive to what Hip Hop is all about, setting black people back decades?

HumanityCritic: So, what's your point?

Girlfriend: Well, you love artists like Kool G Rap, M.O.P, early Ice Cube and N.W.A - violence and misogyny is littered throughout their music. How do you explain that?

HumanityCritic:(condescendingly smirking) Thats different.

Girlfriend: That's not an argument!

HumanityCritic: OK, its different because what separated the artists you just named from the cornucopia of bottom feeding fuckers with record deals today is - they actually had lyrical skills.

Girlfriend: So that automatically excuses the violence and misogyny?

HumanityCritic: In a word, yes. Let me explain: Even though I've changed and may not agree with the rampant violence in some of their songs....

Girlfriend:(interrupting) ...the other day when some asshole at the bar drunkenly said that he was going to drink your beer, you said "Do so at your own peril sir!" - its not that you have all of a sudden become Ghandi, but your shit talk has become so professorial that its unrecognizable to average assholes!

HumanityCritic:(finishing original thought) ..and I may not agree with the misogyny they preach either..

Girlfriend:(interrupting again) ..last week, in front of my aunt no less, you told me, and I quote - that you wanted to "fuck my dirty tits off". Then, for reasons unbeknownst to me, proceeded to tell her that you love me to punch you in ribs while your cumming.

HumanityCritic:(still finishing original thought) ..there was always an artistic value to it. It's like watching "Goodfellas" as opposed to some plot-less movie where people randomly get shot in the head for no good reason. It sounds hypocritical, sure, but a solid lyrical investment where the violence is told in the context of a story is excusable in my eyes. So please, do me a favor and never clumsily lump Kool G Rap with the likes of 50 Cent or whatever garden variety douchebag verbally talks tough - You got that!?

Girlfriend:(sleeping)

HumanityCritic: Shit!

Black Hillary Clinton surrogates remind me of the KRS-One song "Black Cop"(Vibe)

KRS-One: "Black Cop"


Unfortunately, as a guy who has had his fair share of physical altercations in my day, whether its smashing beer bottles over the heads of disgruntled bar patrons like it was an Olympic sport, or rolling a wheelchair bound man into rush hour traffic simply because he refused to acknowledge that Rakim was the greatest rapper ever - lets just say that I'm on a first name basis with some of Virginia Beach's finest. The one thing I've noticed, when I'm not being aggressively frisked, thrown against a police car, or being asked whether or not I threatened the life a person I assaulted based on their new found silence and refusal to press charges - is that the last two kinds of people you want pulling you over is a female police officer or a black police officer. Don't get it twisted, your average run-of-the-mill white male officer, trying to recapture the three years in High School when people actually valued his opinion, wouldn't think twice about publicly sodomizing you with his billy club if you as so much reach for your wallet too quick for his liking. But the few times I've been pulled over by female police officers, it wasn't exactly the most pleasant of experiences, I always got the sense that they were working out the affects of male chauvinism, unequal pay, or the misogyny that they've experienced throughout their lifetimes on the respective choke-hold that they securely placed on me - granted, I'm sure that me calling them "sugar-tits" and mistaking an innocent traffic stop as some sort of remote stripper-gram didn't particularly endear me to them either. Black police officers, especially if they were riding with a white counterpart, more times than not they felt the need to go beyond the call of duty and prove to their partner that they weren't showing favoritism to another person who's ancestors also came over on mandatory cruise ships by putting me on the business end of very disagreeable day. Sometimes I view some of Hillary Clinton's black surrogates the exact same way.

The same way I'd expect any self respecting black police officer to do his job and give me a ticket for speeding, drinking and driving, or having questionable sex with a stripper named "Merry-Go-Round" in the backseat of my muscle car without putting the hazard lights on - I'd also expect Hillary Clinton's black surrogates to make the strongest argument possible for the candidate they feel would be the best choice for President of the United States. But like that occasionally misguided black cop who regrettably goes that extra rhetorical mile, egging me on with empty threats so I'll react and get two or three warning shots in the ass for my troubles - a handful of Hillary Clinton's black surrogates have gone that proverbial extra mile as well, peppering us with cringe-worthy statements that automatically make Hip Hop fans think of the Krs-One song "Black Cop". Here are a few examples.(Read more here)

The Democratic Race in Seven Minutes