Obama

Everything is Funny

“LOLZ…wut?”

-God

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

-The GOP

This is all Cam Newton’s fault. Better yet, it’s OUR fault for putting our hopes in a dude that writes like this. The illogical rage that engulfed white America made him Ours, though. The man described his teams’ march to last season’s Super Bowl as a process akin to preparing succulent, seasoned collard greens. Then he went out and lost, alienated his supporters, and began dressing like Stanley Ipkiss. 2016 is on you, pleighboi.

The world changed when Our brash, bumptious, brazen, Blackity-Black savior lost to an anthropomorphic bobblehead-ass quarterback with no neck muscles. I had never heard of the Zika Virus prior to February 7, 2016. Nashville was still airing on ABC. The Golden State Warriors were still dominating. Lil’ Wayne was merely pleasantly ignorant. And Donald Trump was a hilarious representative of Middle America’s ridiculous sensibilities, but not a viable threat. Nine months (and a summer full of Warriors jokes) later, Prince is dead and the country is about to be run by the human embodiment of the Annoying Orange. Damn you, Cameron.

I offer neither explanation nor commiseration; I don’t know what the hell happened. I guess I should be mortified, but I’m not. These next four years are about to be AMAZING. The Donald is going to turn his inauguration speech into an exercise in shit-talking that may reach Diddyian levels. To which he’ll then combine with several cups of Mayweather. That first Correspondents’ Dinner is going to be glorious. I envision Trump using every single Obama jab he typed up and stored in his drafts for the past two years. He deserves to gloat. He did the impossible. Rich white men that are otherwise mediocre at life NEVER tend to prosper. Especially at the expense of women and people of color. Celebrate, (not so) young Donnie. Celebrate like a Cam Newton first down in a game no one should be surprised you ultimately won.

I offer what I can: raging pessimism with tinges of sociopathic behavior. Shit ain’t good but it’s damn funny. I know this pussy-grabbing, Valencia orange clownfart is going to run the country into a ditch filled with syringes and dead goldfish; I’m just too fascinated to duck and cover my ass from it. I almost commend the American dedication to racism, sexism, and xenophobia…until I remember that it’s racism, sexism, and goddamn xenophobia. Racism seems inconvenient as hell, so I respect the commitment to being an awful person. Who am I to endorse societal decorum?

You guys offer what you can: faith in God. However, if you know Him like I know Him, then you know He’s been laughing at all of us for…mmm…the past nine months. Right after Cam lost to a team led by the live-action Jimmy Neutron, actually. Why, you ask? Because he’s a douc-*

*The previous statement has been redacted. This is not due to controversy; it is due to the author’s amusement tha-**

**The previously previous statement has been redacted because what does God have to do with any of this?? If anything, Your Man chose Trump, so can somebody explain this religion thing to me because it see-***

***The preceding paragraph was an editorial by the author and is not sponsored by the author’s publisher, which is me, and…this is dumb. Just shut up and tend to yo’ mam-****

 ****God has a sense of humor and laughs at things that are funny; He told me as much during our meeting at The International Lil’ Uzi Vert Fan Club Summit in Dover, Delaware. This disclaimer is pointless.

This is all Cam Newton’s fault. Better yet, it’s OUR fault for tying our hopes onto a dude that neither relates nor transcends. The illogical rage that engulfed white America prevailed, regardless. They hated him because he smiled too much; or covered his head in a towel too often; or danced too long. He wasn’t supposed to be enjoying being who he was, much less celebrating it openly. Quarterbacks, like our Presidents, are not supposed to look like that, comport themselves in that way, and refuse to genuflect to the “norms” of the majority. Super Bowl 50 began a year of whitewashing as pushback to Our pushback. The rage exhibited becoming so blinding, progression took a backseat to suppression. The natural order has been restored and things are as they should be. And that line of thinking is so absurd, fear and disgust has been trumped by genuine amusement. But that, as Cameron Jerrell Newton has pontificated, “is all part of the game; we’re not playing ballet.”

The world is on fire, and A.J. Armstrong is content to bask in its’ glow. He is also the creator of The Fly Hobo and His World of Oddities

Insomnia

“But I’m afraid of not being able to laugh anymore
What’s life going to become once we don’t have anymore
…Heroes?”

-Cee-Lo Green

I get tired. I sometimes drift off in front of my social media feed. My eyes tend to get sooooo heavy from pontificating with strangers. Commiserating with you is draining; I apologize if I distract myself with more pressing and immediate concerns. Your stupidity tires me out and I need a break. If you knew how dumb and shortsighted you are, then you’d need a snooze, too. Correcting you saps the little energy I have, but monitor our Black Lives with an otherworldly attentiveness, you little vanguard, you. You deserve my sincere apology for correcting whatever absurdities wafted out the midnight oil of condescension and misguided righteous gallivanting. I’ll just look past the fact you’re delving into a very dangerous and harmful logic. Yeah…naw. Good luck getting me to comport myself as someone willing to acquies…

“…Yo, Young Militant Facebook Jerk, I had this weird dream. I dreamt that my ex got back with me and gave me Chlamydia. Chlamydia, yeah. But here’s the weird thing; she got it from Katt Williams and he was chasing me around, apparently mad I took my girl back from him…

…Dozed off, sorry. #BlackLivesMatter made idiots of a few that garner reverence by impressing other idiots. The share button only helps if you can discern between validity and propaganda, champ. It kinda sucks because your intentions are (to you) noble. We get it; nothing else invades your immaculate consciousness…

“…But dig this part…everybody running with Katt in my dream were my friends in real life. So I had like five people chasing and shooting at me. My ex doubled back to ol’ boy and I was just running by myself until I finally got to my mother’s house…”

Shit. Fell asleep. I do wonder how YOU condemning ME for losing focus of an issue isn’t egregious in its own right. It seems totally counterproductive and unnecessary. Why are our “leaders” continuously slinking back into the pack to make sure all of us are fixated on the same thing? And why does your indignation only apply to others? Oh, to be so aware of everything except your own actions, Young Wack Hotep Brother. I have no problem pointing a finger directly in the face of this hypocrisy, because I have never claimed to be too involved to do otherwise.

“Yoooo…they all pulled out guns and I couldn’t run anymore because apparently Chlamydia makes you really slow. So I just stood there…I STOOD there, dude…they all had guns on me. Did I mention that before?? Well anyway, they all sat there ready to shoot when my ex popped up in the window and had one of those bullets Angelina Jolie had in Wanted…yeah, the ones that boomerang around the room…so, yeah, she shot in the window and hit all of them in the che…”

Those covers had me lazy. Carry on with your conquests, you valiant social media trooper. Disperse your wisdom by inundating us with questionable information on the basis the headlines alone appease to a certain sensibility we should all be required to share. Condemn us because we find time to laugh, joke, and relax. Forgive us if our outrage isn’t incessant while our awareness is meandering. Call me obtuse and take pity on me for not occupying the same post with you, scanning the horizon with aimless zeal. I suppose taking any regard of my own Black Life at times is selfish and unfocused. Forgive me.

“So they all sat there shaking on the floor and my ex crawled through the window and threw a small vial in my direction. She said, ‘sorry for giving you The Clap’, and walked out through the front door. It bothered me because I had Chlamydia; did she not know ‘The Clap’ refers to Gonorrhea? Because I can’t deal with somebody that’s not #Woke.

Look, the battles are ceaseless. The problem with our midnight crusaders isn’t that there is no recognition of the endless nature of our issues; it’s that my deviance is incorrectly identified as resignation. It’s that watching- and not subsequently analyzing- is equivalent to knowledge for you folk. I am not stepping away from this fight; I am simply regrouping in order to determine a more effective approach. Why barge into the middle of a sociopolitical issue while alienating those that share your desire for change? If fights were meant to be around-the-clock solo missions, there would be no need for a more rested set of eyes to ever defend our livelihoods, right?

“What you mean did I chase after her?? She gave me Chlamydia and- through her “research”- called it ‘The Clap’. Her ignorance is going to kill us both if I allow it…”

It is not because I do not care. Nor is it because I am unaware. My reticence is not hesitance. Consciousness is a weapon unto oneself under YOUR sanctimony; look both ways before you lob grenades. Sleep because you dare to dream, not because you believe your truth is the one and only. Understand your platitudes are simply blinders; they are not shades.

#YouCouldStayWokeButYouShouldProbablyTakeYoAssToSleepForALittleBit

A.J. Armstrong is smarter than you; he’s also the creator of The Fly Hobo and His World of Oddities