The Blind Driving The Blinded

Listen, I enjoy a good white man as much as the next American but there is something about Ron Paul that I just can’t take seriously.

It’s not that he’s a racist asshole.  At this point, I really don’t care.  He could have a gang of black folk and illegal immigrants in his backyard picking cotton, selling tube socks and starching his damn shirts for all I care.  If he had the solution, or even a solution, to restore American to greatness, I say call his ass Massah.  Perhaps the reality is some of the comments that he made may have a grain of truth encased in his legalized heroine-induced hallucinations.  For instance, he said that 95% of the black men in Washington D.C. are criminals.  Unless Congress is in session…then the statistic flips from black men to white men.  See?  Grain of truth…

Neither is the problem that he’s homophobic.  The man is old, people.  His breath is dusty and he’s only got about 25 minutes left to live.  When folks are that old, it’s hard to change their minds about anything.  Back when he was growing up the gays kept their asses in the closet like good little sexually repressed Puritans should.  In fact, we can probably thank all of that pent up sexual frustration for some of our greatest American monuments – the slaughter and ultimate cultural decimation of our indigenous people, our unique brand of misogyny that reduces all of womankind to her bulbous parts and naughty bits and, my personal favorite, good ole’ slavery.  But I digress…now that homosexuality is firmly planted and ever growing in mainstream American culture, Ron Paul is just confused, poor thing! He just doesn’t know how to interact with gay folks.  He doesn’t know what the hell to say or do…or even if gay could be contagious.  The irony is he could totally be good for the gay marriage movement.  Wouldn’t he want government to stay out of folks’ marriages?  Wanna get married?   Then, get married!  Shit, why shouldn’t gay people suffer right along with the rest of us?

It’s not even that his best endorsement is Kelly Clarkson.  Effin’ Kelly Clarkson.  You remember her?  The little chubby chick from Ft Worth TX who won American Idol?  In fact his lack of back up just makes me feel a bit sorry for him.  No one is taking this man’s Presidential bid seriously.   But let’s not underestimate his potential for power and influence by other means and platforms.  FDR (thanks for the correction, decollins1969!) said the only thing we have to fear is fear itself.  I disagree.  In America, we fear the absence of fear even more. We fear people who are not afraid.  And Ron Paul, for all his past transgressions and deceptively simple ideology, has been consistently unafraid in his branding.  This mofo ain’t scared of yo’ ass! His courage, reckless though it may be, is a leadership quality.  He truly believes that American people can be self-sufficient and don’t need the government to provide for us or control us in any way at all.  It’s every man for himself, survival of the fittest.  It’s revolutionary thinking – yet another leadership quality.  All he needs is a big enough group of idiots to gain some momentum and get some power going — and he will lead us right to the end of the world.  (Hmmm, another shout out to the Mayans, I guess…)  Gaining that kind of support is the true driver behind all of his incendiary statements about blacks and gays.  Although, unafraid himself, he’s pulling the strings of marginalized groups in American who truly are afraid.  All of the anti-government radicals in Montana love him!  Think about it, people…if each village in America simply donated their idiot to Ron Paul, he could be President!  Clearly Fort Worth has donated theirs…who’s next?

In spite of all that, the thing that really ticks me off about Ron Paul is that he looks exactly like Mr. Magoo…but with hair. (Go ahead, google it…I’ll wait)  And I don’t know about you…but I don’t mind a blind, bumbling old fool…until he insists on getting in the drivers’ seat.

Then, he becomes a danger to us all.

Merry Christmas…Again!!

Wow!  Who would have ever thought I’d be here long enough to write y’all a second annual Christmas greeting?

This has been quite a year for us as a people.  Let the Mayans tell it…it will be our last.  And if so, quite frankly, we are going out balls to the wall.

So, in the midst of strife, warfare and revolution, my Christmas wish to you is…love.  I wish you love.  Not the kind of love that requires a safe word.  Well,  not JUST the kind of love that requires a safe word.

The kind that proves we are not in this life alone but rather part of a rich complex fabric, our destinies interwoven, calling for young and old, rich and poor, Democrat and Republican, good and bad…well, maybe not Newt Gingrich or any of the Kardashians…to work collectively and live collaboratively.

So, bottom line? You are stuck with me and, in a handful of rare instances, to me…but that’s a Jell-O story for the third Christmas greeting.

Happy Holidays to my KCG folks, wherever you are.  Hope that you are safe and well because not everyone is.

Praying peace for the people of Nigeria today.

RIP Patrice O’Neal

If I knew I would live forever, I would never get anything done.  Everything could wait until tomorrow cuz I’d be guaranteed, like, a million of ‘em.

As much as I fear death, it is surely the one constant that gives my life a sense of urgency and truly fuels my purpose.  Now, I don’t know what the hell that purpose is but when I find out…it’s gonna be gassed up like a MUTHA#$%.

Just thought I’d share.

RIP Patrice O’Neal.  Too soon, man…too soon.

Happy Thanksgiving!!!

I’m ready for some BIRD!!

Ya heard?

Word!

(Sorry…I’m a slave to the rhyme)

Calvin’s Making A Comeback!

Remember Calvin?

Back in the 80’s, a kid named Calvin started working the counter at McDonald’s after school in a national advertising campaign.  Cut to years later, the campaign picks up again to find Calvin managing the very same McDonald’s.  I wish the campaign woulda picked up again years later to find Calvin owning that McDonald’s franchise along with a few others but I’ll take what I can get.

Calvin is the reason that I think Obama will do a better job in the second term than he did in the first…although truth be told, it wouldn’t be that damn difficult.

I imagine Calvin showed up for his first day of work, full of energy and big ideas, ready to sit down with Grimace n’em and set this muthf#&% off!  Instead, they put his ass on the fries.  Why?  Because Calvin had no experience.  He didn’t know what the hell he was doing.  I know it looks easy…it’s just hamburgers but the thing about McDonald’s restaurants is that they are absolute monuments of operational efficiency.  Legend has it that regardless of what combination of items you order; the stores are organized, the processes optimized and the employees mobilized to deliver all of your products to you within 60 seconds.  Of course, the order’s gonna be wrong, Calvin’s homeboy has pocketed two dollars of your change and you know them fries are dry as your ass but that’s neither here nor there.  You as the consumer don’t see that there’s a big ole Chinese fire drill going on behind the scenes.  All you know is that ice cold Coke is really hittin’ the spot.  (though some of us will always prefer to drink the Kool-Aid…)

Calvin had to learn all of that before he became manager.  But once he learned, he ran the hell outta that Mickey D’s.

Like Calvin, President Obama had plenty of energy and big ideas but no experience serving them ideas up to a hostile staff and a bunch of customers who were hungry…but had no money or idea what we even wanted.  Now, y’all know as a man, I love me some Barack Hussein Obama.  As a President, not so much. He’s incredibly intelligent and a gifted orator but he lacks the experience to influence key decision makers and establish the support he needs to push his ideas through.  Without these two elements, he just couldn’t be an effective leader in some of the most troubled times our country, hell our world, has ever known.

That was then, this is now.  I suspect that in these last years, Obama has gained some valuable and necessary experience to stand on more sure footing.  He knows more today about the job at hand than when he took office almost three years ago.  And, unfortunately, I suspect he likely knows more than the five candidates on the Republican ticket.

Of the Republican pool, two have experience managing an administration and one has similar experience in the private sector.  The other two candidates have experience influencing key legislative decision makers.  But not one Republican candidate has experience doing both.  That means they are all in the same boat as Obama WAS at the start of this administration…kinda qualified but not really.

Partisan politics aside, in this moment in time, Obama could just be the most qualified candidate.

Wow…that was like taking a bullet.

Let the official Kimchi and Collard Greens GOP Candidate Search begin…

Happy Veteran’s Day From Kimchi And Collard Greens!

I was sitting in my office after a long day at work.  Tired, irritable and hungry, I reached my limit and began packing up.  I couldn’t wait one more minute to get home, take a hot shower, order my favorite takeout, pop open a bottle of wine and spend time with friends and loved ones.

Then it hit me like a ton of redbottoms…

I wonder how many soldiers say that everyday but instead stay at work and on guard 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.  Making their way through the desert, carrying their own body weight in equipment, blinded by hot pellets of storming sand that melt their skin where it hits…until nightfall when they get to lay wet in trenches, bugs crawling in their ears, rifles in the ready position with monsters laying in wait, hunting them as prey.

I don’t even have a frame of reference to fully understand what this must be like…unless you count that time I stayed at the Comfort Inn in Virginia Beach.  But even that (and it WAS bad) or the most horrible thing we can experience in a day at work or even in our lives hardly gives us the basis to fully grasp their sacrifice.

So we say thank you…but do we even really know what we’re thanking them for?  We can’t possibly know.

We sit at home in our extreme comfort and convenience; demanding our rights and our liberties.  But those things are costly and we, as individuals, are rarely prepared or willing to part with the currency to pay for them.  But we demand them anyway and there are a courageous group of men and women who say to us, “No problem, take it, take all you want…we’ll pay.”  They’re like the sugar daddies and sugar mamas of freedom…but better because we don’t have to give anything in exchange.

But their families do.  Think of the newlywed solider who leaves his bride’s bedside to give himself to 248 million mistresses.  Think of the soldier who leaves her infant at home to fight for the 248 million children of her neighbors.  Those families hold it DOWN for the soldiers until they return.

So, when you say Happy Veteran’s Day, really say it.  Don’t let a person in military uniform walk by you without saying thank you, not today or any day of the year.  If they sit next to you at a restaurant, pay for their meal.  If you see them at the gas station, pay for their gas.  If you see one that’s particularly cute, make out with him for a few minutes in the men’s room…maybe even his cute friend.  So what if she’s a girl?

All I’m saying is look for meaningful and sincere ways to say Thank You to the honorable, courageous men and women of the United States Armed Forces.  Get their back cuz they damn sure got ours.

The End of The Reign Of Herman Cain…

When the allegations first came up about Herman Cain and his randy past, I thought he was going to be able to brush it off.  Remember, Clarence Thomas.  If he got away with pubies on soda cans, then Herman Cain can get away with a likkle slap and tickle, right?

So I defended him.  At that point in time Herman Cain was as viable as any other candidate and deserved to be heard.  I took it to the mat for him.  Even as he was mixing up his facts, getting muddled in semantics and not recalling specific details of important events, say for instance, cash settlements, I still defended him.  He was, after all, everyman’s candidate, eschewing politics as usual and speaking plain English.

But the evidence seemed to suggest that when it came to the fairer sex, Herman Cain went from making it plain to making it rain.

Yet he admitted nothing and the strategy appeared to be working for him.  GOP pundits and campaign analysts seemed to think he could rise above it.  His standing in polls continued to be a source of wonder for much of America.  Folks were looking the other way and turning the other cheek.  For all intents and purposes, he was the golden boy of the primaries and it didn’t seem that anything was going to interrupt his flow.  And so it seemed, America was all for sexual harassment…

Until…

Lawd JESUS…the story broke.  One of the accusers was a white woman!  Back up the truck!  Didn’t nobody say nothing ‘bout no white woman!  That changes everything! I betcha all the wheels are coming off this bus in very short order…just watch.

You know, even as Cain was rising to the top of the dogpile, I was wondering how they were going to knock his black ass off.  The GOP needed a black guy, after all the Dems won with theirs.  But they didn’t expect Cain to get as far as he did.   It really started to look like Cain could actually meet Obama in the race.  (pun fully intended)  This means no matter who won, we’d have either a black President or…ANOTHER black President.  Pump yo’ brakes!  Listen, America might be willing to tolerate the first black President they chose, I doubt they’d be so magnanimous if a black President was forced upon them.

What better way to topple Herman Cain than to use the black man’s kryptonite?

So, what about this latest broad?  She is serious.  What she is accusing Herman Cain of is more than harassment, it’s sexual assault.  That’s a fight.  If someone gropes my lady parts and pushes my head toward his thinking parts, that’s not “harass”…as far as I’m concerned, that’s gon’ be HIS ass (or any body part I can break off)  [On a side note:  Can I ask why this chick didn’t wear his ass out in the back of that car ala Ike and Tina?  Or better yet…why she didn’t go to the authorities?  Ladies…we gotta stop giving away our power.  Every time we let a man get away with this shit, we perpetuate our role as victims.]

That is if he did what he’s accused of doing.  Their stories don’t match so one thing is clear.  Somebody’s ass is lying.  But I will tell you this, when it comes to a black man in America being accused of groping a white woman, there’s no such as due process.   Don’t believe me?  The candidates who were taking the high road now are calling the accusations “disturbing.”  What the hell are you disturbed about?  That man hasn’t been found guilty of anything.  In fact, he’s denying his involvement!  That certainly means he’s telling the truth, right?  He did NOT have sexual relations with that woman, Sharon Bialek….ahem.  Excuse me.

Yet another political trajectory disrupted by the most powerful substance on earth.

So anyway, let’s all say goodbye to Herman Cain and hello to another four years of Obama.  I still say it’s Obama race to lose.  All he has to do is not screw up anything else…and hire some chubby, skanky broad with lots of hair to distract old slick-talking Bill Clinton.  Where do I apply?

Today…

iLost a hero.

 

 

 

Too Bad We Can’t Get Paid For DejaVu Cuz We Got Plenty Of That

Unemployment.  It was on my mind.  And we’ve already established that what’s on my mind is coming out of my mouth or out of my Mac.

So, it woke me up in the middle of the night and I got out of bed hoping to take advantage of the inspiration.  I started to write a post on the President’s newest jobs plan but I kept getting the sense that I’d been here before.  Not here as in Seoul but here as in complaining about unemployment in America.  Since I’ve always been lazier than I am innovative, I stopped mid-penstroke and looked up a post that I’d tapped out on the same topic just over a year ago.

Lo and behold, nothing sells my views on the topic more poignantly than the fact that the old shit from last year is still relevant.  Simply replace GOP’s Pledge to America with Obama’s Jobs Plan.  Now, you know Washington is filled with some self-serving cuckoo birds when Republicans and Democrats become interchangeable.  (Current politics make it so easy to be a snarky bee-tah-tah.)  Same sh*t, different year.  It’s all just business as usual.

I was gonna go ahead and say something about Obama’s newest jobs plan but you know what?  Might as well keep all current references out cuz I’m sure I’ll need to use this same post next year, too.

*sigh*

Here’s the link…(click here)

The Return Of The Aju-MACK

One story that my mom tells about my first years in Korea is the one where I meet my father for the first time when he returns to us at the end of his deployment in the U.S.  As we three sat in the back of the taxicab, I snuck suspicious, sideways glances at my father before I leaned in to my mom and whispered (as well as any 2 year old can whisper) my official decision:   I gave it some thought but I have decided that — no, thank you –I do NOT want the black man to be my daddy.  Driver, kindly pull over and let his black ass out here, please.

If anyone doubts the power of children having images of themselves that they can relate to, please let this story be a lesson.  Having lived the first few years of my life with no positive images of black people to relate to, not only did I not know I was black…but apparently, I didn’t want nothing dark around me but a belt.

So there I was surrounded by a sea of Koreans — mouth full of moxie, diaper full of shit, all topped off with a big kinky afro talking ‘bout “I don’t want no black daddy…”  when it was clearly too late.  You can imagine my shock when I learned that I, myself, am black as well.  (Actually, you’re gonna have to imagine it cuz we don’t really remember how all that went down.)  But daddies are daddies and I was in love in no time…with him AND our blackness.  Cut to today and it is not without some anxiety that I prepare to head back to Korea for the first time in almost 40 years.

I’m not sure how I will be received when I return to the sea of Koreans.  Will I be accepted by my people, in all my glorious half blackness, or will I have to jump in that sea and push a few racist Koreans down?  (Y’all know I can’t fight!)  All of my anxiety has been boiled down to one question — should I straighten my hair before I go or should I continue wearing it in the big frightening shock of runaway curls and kinks that I’ve resorted to in my forties?  I’m already going to be a full two feet taller than everyone in the country, do I really need to top it off with hair that resembles, according to a colleague, fireworks?

I mean, really, how far have race relations truly come in such a racially monolithic country as Korea in the last forty years?

So, I asked that question of an old ajumma at Han-A-Rheum Market, a local Korean grocery and with a straight face this is what she said in her heavily accented English:

“You no worry black.  You worry too old to get marry.”

Just like that.  On her mind and out her mouth.  I waited for this little pint-sized heffa to crack a smile or something.  But nope, she was dead serious.

The Korean ajumma.  Many cultures have ‘em…pushy older broads who place no appreciable value on personal boundaries or socially acceptable things to say.  Jews call theirs yentas, blacks in America have Bonita Buttrell.  We all understand the concept….aunties.  But the Korean ajumma is special.  You may have seen one and if you’ve seen one then you’ve seen them all.  They have curly perms and appear to have purchased all of their clothing moments after suffering a series of mini-strokes.  Usually, they are not more than 3 apples tall but they ain’t scared of shit.  They have lived their lives and have earned the right to apply their wisdom and experience to yours with or without your consent.  And there is not one aspect of your life, my life and life in general that they don’t have an opinion about.  There’s nothing that they won’t do for their families about whom they will complain to anyone who will listen. They have many gifts and talents but if volume modulation is one of ‘em, there is no clear known evidence of it.  They are an entire well-respected subculture in and of themselves.

And in Korean culture, they are feared.  You do nothing to incite the wrath of your ajummas cuz you’ll mess around and get your ass cussed out and maybe hit with a stick.  (Remember that lady on the Old Dutch cleanser, SHE was an ajumma!)  So, I smiled and bowed my goodbyes to the mouthy broad while cussing her out under my breath and rolled out.

Some time later, I was at family function with some younger Korean cousins.  One of the kids was talking to me about school when his mama called him into the other room to bring me some tea.  The tea was hot so he walked slowly across the room.  By the time he got to me, I was engrossed in somebody else’s conversation about to get all in that business.  I could hear him saying something in the background but it didn’t immediately sound relevant.  Then, it hit me…and I shoulda hit him.

“Here’s your tea, ajumma.”

Apparently, I worried for nothing.  I’ll fit right in Korea…curly hair and all.