• » Name: Meka Soul
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Slap-Boxing With Jesus

Give A Fluck About A Jesse Jackson

There’s a difference between you, the reader, and me, the writer. See, I tend to more or less say what some of you think, but are inexplicably too timid to do so. Granted, I may do it under a pseudo-disguise [1] and a play on my name, but truth is that a: I’m not that hard to spot out in a crowd (let’s see how many slack-jawed yokels recognize me at Rock The Bells this year!) and b: the stuff I’ve said over here I’d likely say to your face, so the whole “confidence behind a monitor” shtick doesn’t really apply to me.

At the same time, you’d never see me backpedal once I say something that gets you out of pocket. If there was one thing I can take from my college experience (outside of the fact that most classes are complete wastes of time), it’s that – unless I was absolutely wrong – was to never bite my tongue or renege on anything I’ve ever said, no matter how offensive. Why? Because I’m on my Charles Barkley shit when it comes to my public image: I’m not trying to be anybody’s role model outside of my future younglings, and they’re in a liquidy state stashed in my scrotes [||] at the moment. That’s why I use any and every hate email I receive or disparaging remark in the c-section as ammunition for my verbal assault: I don’t care about them, so I see no reason why they should care about me.

If anything, jackasses like Jesse Jackson should take more notes from yours truly, instead of looking like fools when they do step out of pocket. It’s a well-known fact that both he an Al Sharpton aren’t fans of Barack Obama, and are likely showing a pseudo-show of support just because he’s, well, black. I don’t even plan on voting (spare me the semantics), but if I did I’d vote for him only because he’s black, especially since I never really followed politics like that to boot.

Shit, Obama can say he’s having the Anti-Christ himself as his running mate, with David Duke, Tim Hardaway and Gort as his cabinet members, and I’d still vote for him only off the strength that, if he wasn’t who he is today, would get pulled over by the cops, not unlike how that high-yellow, slickback-rocking jig did in Crash.

But I’m not going to be those types of hypocrites who say one thing only to 180 and do another, not unlike how Mos Def used to rap about brown skin ladies then banged a White stripper. But honestly, if anybody was truly shocked and surprised at how Jesse Jackson really felt about Barack, nor was I appalled at what he said. Lest we forget, this was the same guy who – while running for president in the 80s nonetheless – referred to New York City as “Hymietown,” which I still think to this day was the funniest shit I’ve ever heard.

Yet – and I hate to turn this toward me – I get a whole bunch of self-righteous Jews trying to get me “fired” from this site and subsequently blackballed from the industry [2] whenever I use the now-infamous dreaded k-word. I don’t even get paid for this shit, so technically how can I get fired? But I digress.

I guess the moral of this twisted tale is to not be something you never were in the first place. Maybe then when you make an ass out of yourself you’d not feel the need to do an about-face to avoid humiliation. Perhaps that’s why this site is still up and running and one of our main competitors is nothing more than a Geocities web page now.

[1] Really people, even if I showed my face I highly doubt I’d get the same number of comments as my Vegas-residing blogging sister aliya. I mean damn, I know she’s fine as hell, but you won’t see me trying to slide inside her cyber-skins with that much virility. As a side note, I’ve always found it odd how I get barked on for supposedly not getting any ass, yet a shitload of yentas are damn near climbing walls over a diminutive photo. It is what it is, though.

[2] Ironically, this blog opened up another avenue down the street from here and I’m begrudgingly more popular and get more work than ever. Funny how things work in my favor sometimes.

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