She gets a red Dress! He gets a red dress…!

Everybody gets a red dressssss!

I joke and I kid and I’m just generally hilarious. Wouldn’t you agree? 

Ya would? Oh, stop it, You! (blushes a warm shade of magenta #BlackGirlMagic)

Today, however, we need to have an authentic adult conversation about the devil in the red dress that you know versus the one that you don’t know, politically speaking.

Before I began this post, my plan was to delve into the simplicity of who won what and why (#iMean, does it even really matter anymore?) in Wisconsin and in New York but as is known to happen, the writing took on a mind of its own and in that a similar configuration kept throwing my equation off by two. 

So let me ask you a question. 

In all of this over-the-top racist, homophobic, xenophobic downright vulgar political jargon (Drumpf used the most unrefined description of a woman’s anatomy during a campaign rally, in front of an unsuspecting crowd of men, women, and children, and the media.)…

#DramaticPause

Where are Al Sharpton and Jesse Jackson? No. Seriously. Where are they? Not that I’m on some ol’ Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice quest or anything but their collective silence speaks volumes, doesn’t it?

To be completely transparent, I don’t particularly care for any of the aforementioned individuals. I didn’t mention the Democratic front-runners but make no mistake, when I speak of red dresses, they’re all wearing one. #iJustFindItOffPuttingThat the self-proclaimed leaders of the black community have been church-mouse-quiet on the political home front. This is not typical.

There has always been speculation, from those of us that would prefer they keep their distance where the media is concerned, on the how’s and why’s of whichever sensationalized occurrence befits their outrage and presence.

Are they not outraged at this campaign?

Of course not, Silly, they are perfectly fine with Drumpfs hate-filled rhetoric against any and all. He demeans his very own followers by announcing, “…I could go on a shooting rampage on Fifth Ave and I wouldn’t lose a vote, ok...”, shows no respect for anyone or anything, and has zero understanding of the law. The law that sets the stage for the presidency he aspires to. He does not understand The Constitution of these United States – the very law of the land and politically speaking, his bible. 

Haven’t we seen and heard enough of him on the campaign trail for Jay & Silent Bob to make some noise? This would-be leader of the free world sounds less like a presidential candidate and more like a tiny five-year-old boy hollering at the top of his tiny five-year-old lungs, “Waaahhhh, Little Marco said my hands were too small, but they’re NOT. See?!” all whilst, as an extension of himself, running around with industrial-strength shears. That are sharp. And pointy. Toward the people of this country. And the very fabric of America. Unmaking it great, again*. Stabbing and stabbing at all objects and obstacles in his tiny little orange wake: the carpet, the curtains, the house-cat, his nanny...

Anyway. He’s a brat. And frankly, I just don’t like him.

His aura, as bird and bat-shit colored as it can get, carries a stench that few can stomach. I’m almost positive that I couldn’t care less for the carroty creation that is he. But this isn’t about him. This is about the two nut-brown men that I really should care more for.

But I don’t. And I won’t. 

Because unlike the drones at a Drumpf rally:  iAm. Not. The. One.

I do not play well with others.  

I will not be led down some doomed rabbit-hole with any shiny racist propaganda, and boy-oh-boy is it shiny. Blindingly so. Like it glistens. Day and night. Like the things I want to say about harping on the fears of the minority (come on, you didn’t know these southern-belters and all their sad-sack anger is in the minority?) seem to choke in my throat at the mere glimmer of his…is that even really his skin? Like I could chew him up and spit him out mentally, ethically, morally, legally for goodness sake! I got words, man. Like harsh and intrusive and foul and crude kinds of words. Like the dictionary that is my brain is backflip-rolodexing. I am chomping at the bit, Sun. Like, it be callin’ my name...

Anyway, I don’t like him. 

I will not hate him because that would only make him, and me, by process of elimination, grow heavier in the eyes of the enemy. He’s not worth it; no one is. I don't hate Drumpf nor do I fear a world where he and his kind dwell; I am indifferent. He does not matter.

But the lack of pushback does.

Didn’t I just say this article was not about Drumpf? (rolls eyes at self) #WorkInProgress

So, back to these two all of a sudden non-interested political Tom-Fooleries.

They seem to pop-up at the most inconvenient times, don’t they? Times when we would just like to get through whichever trial or tribulation is upon the community without making a mockery of the process and here one of them comes.

It happens every time. 

If it’s not Jesse Jackson pretending to be overwhelmed, crying tears of joy at President Obama’s acceptance speech then it’s Al Sharpton showing up at whichever atrocity has befallen a person of color where the media is certain to exploit. Speaking of tears: Honestly, what person, let alone a man, stands stalk-still, eyes dripping with tears and does not brush it off, like not even once? Is that not uncomfortable? Babies brush tears away. Actors brush tears away when the director calls Cut! Tha Feezy? I. Cry. At. Every. Thing.  And even when I am dopamined – La’Porsha Renae FTW! – I still brush away my tears. It’s a natural reaction. 

#SideEyeingYourCovetingJessWeKnowYouWantedThatSpot

When have either of these two brown folks ever shied away from the spotlight?

#NotNever. (My Grammar Pedantry Syndrome - GPS - forces me to let the reader know that this should read Not Ever, the hashtag I chose just has more emphasis in its incorrect form. Not unlike both the Democratic and Republican parties thus far. And by thus far I mean, like ever. In history.)

Wouldn’t this be a primetime moment for the two most self-aggrandizing political men of color to be seen and heard? To speak out against an actual issue in their very own realm of politics and specifically in New York where Sharpton has made a name for himself?  Ahhhh yah. Unless of course the black vote no longer matters or (clutching my pearls) they are biding their time and binding their tongues in hopes of garnering positions of power in either Clinton or Drumpf’s camp, if elected (see Ben Carson for more info)? Do these people not understand that if he wins we ALL lose?

(Click below to see both the winners and losers in not only the Wisconsin and New York

Primaries but all of the primaries. And when I say all, I mean, like ever. In history.)

It’s Politrikkks time again – Dead Prez

And really that’s what this whole piece has been about. Politics. Politics as usual.

The selfishness of what one person can acquire for themselves as opposed to what one person could do for the greater good of millions. It would have been for the greater good if Drumpf had not entered the race; it would have been even better if the people of America forced him out of the race by ignoring him and his hate-mongering the same way a teacher deals with the bad behavior of someone else’s child.

Ignore the behavior, don't give in to his pandering for attention, negative or otherwise, and his inflammatory ego will deflate, much like the reference connected to his tiny little hands. He’s got to overcompensate somehow.

 

 

*WHEN WAS AMERICA EVER GREAT?