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Slap-Boxing With Jesus

Politricks As Usual

News flash: I can’t stand politics, almost about as much as I don’t like when some random-ass person walks up on you and asks you about Jesus. Shit makes me want to punch them out, I swear. Same thing when it comes to asking me to discuss my thoughts on this political shit, because to me today’s representation is nothing but meaningless bullshit designed to make people look as if they’re serving in the best interests of the people they’re supposed to be serving, yet the powers that be are blatantly using their authoritative dominion to better their own personal ills.

Am I going to vote this year? Probably not. Realize that voting is no longer the preeminent shining beacon of the American citizen’s Constitutional given right to choose. With a seemingly simple yet absurdly complex so-called “electoral college,” the true power behind actually selecting who you’d like to see run your KKKountry is about as sincere as a pimp’s promise to a slore to give her a better life. Ask Al Gore who, although received more votes, got his spot swacked from today’s current harbinger of desolation. Or ask the Heinz Ketchup pimp who lost because “we the people” had to vote for the lesser of two evils. And if I were to vote, I’d solely vote from the Black guy because he’s Black, or at least since it says so on his employment applications. Nothing more, nothing less.

Which is why I’ve looked at the hoopla surrounding Decision ’08 with the same side-eye I did four years ago, except now this incarnation has turned into nothing more than an old White codger and a Black guy with an A-Rab moniker simply playing the dozens on a grander-scale. Debates have turned into old-fashioned mud slinging. The media would rather focus on rap’s Bizarro World association with the Demon-Cratic nominee or OD on the multiple shots fired at his character by his Pink Elephant Republican opposite rather than the reasons these two are vying for the presidency. No matter what the result is, we the people will remain the loser, because none of the two are sincerely out for our best interests.

Gas is high like giraffe throats. The cost of living is beyond far-fetched. Muh’fuckers can’t even kill themselves properly because they can’t afford it. Why should I give three-fifths of a shit about false promises of hope when I can barely cover my rent at times? I hope that my landlord doesn’t put a lien on my no-room mansion; give a fluck about Clinton co-sign.

I long for the day where I can actually have some semblance of faith in our country’s future leaders. Perhaps then I’d learn how to walk on water, dunk from the three-point line and make an honest woman out of Kerry Washington all in one swoop. But since the likelihood of all those things are slimmer than that chick in Calvin Klein pantses, my third eye will stay wide shut with a smirk pursed across my face. Besides, that’s the shit that powers these posts in the first place.

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