Defeating Tiny Hands McWhite Supremacist

I'm voting for Hillary Clinton. I did not arrive at this decision lightly. As most of you know, I am a Sanders supporter. I voted for Bernie because I preferred the candidate who didn't take any money from the unholy cabal of greed demons on Wall Street who tanked the world's (again, THE WORLD'S) economy back in 2008. As Matt Taibbi recently wrote,

“When I think about the way the Democrats and their friends in the press keep telling me I owe them my vote, situations like the following come to mind. We're in another financial crisis. The CEOs of the ten biggest banks in America, fresh from having wrecked the economy with the latest harebrained bubble scheme, come to the Oval Office begging for a bailout. In that moment, to whom is my future Democratic president going to listen: those bankers or me? It's not going to be me, that's for sure. Am I an egotist for being annoyed by that? And how exactly should I take being told on top of that that I still owe this party my vote, and that I should keep my mouth shut about my irritation if I don't want to be called a Republican-enabler?”

Bernie didn't win the primary, though. I'm going to vote for Clinton, because I want to keep an honest-to-God fucking comic book villain out of the White House. Plus, those Supreme Court nominees are a pretty big deal, if things like LGBT rights are important to you and you believe women's health choices, including abortion, belong to them and not a group of pasty-white legislators with Baptist haircuts and an axe to grind with every woman who couldn't be satisfied by their half-flaccid Vienna sausage dicks. Also, I'm definitely anti-wall. There's also the fact that I'm legitimately terrified for my Muslim friends if we elect Orange is the New Fascist. I'm NOT crazy about how cozy Hillary is with Wall Street (And, yes, the Mule is just as addicted to and dazzled by money as the Elephant) and the fact that we'll probably continue bombing the bejesus out of brown people on the other side of the world (Middle Eastern parents watching a drone strike blow up their kid probably don't give a shit if it was sent by a Democrat or a Republican).

So, there ya go Democratic Party. You got my vote. Surely you won't mind a little constructive criticism, right? You can't keep running campaigns based on the “lesser of two evils” platform. Granted, the evil you're running against this time is pretty goddamn fucking evil, however, this attitude is becoming more and more frustrating for voters. Don't be afraid to actually be liberal and progressive. An example from right here in Kentucky: If you took the campaign ads from Jack Conway and Alison Lundergan Grimes and showed those to people above the Mason-Dixon Line, they'd assume they were watching Republicans. The days of holding a shotgun and saying Jesus to inspire Democrats to get off their asses and to polls are over. It's pandering, it's insulting, and it's everything you accuse the other side of doing. Most importantly, though, it would be a grave error to alienate and ignore all the millennials who support Bernie. Probably not a good idea to continue being snide and condescending to them (and older liberals, like yours truly), as well. The main reason? Most of the millennials that I know don't give fuck one about the Democratic Party. They care more about candidates who take therm seriously and who they can believe in. When they hear calls for “party unity,” they hear “you're idealism is adorable, but now it's time to be cynical bastards like the rest of us and choose the lesser of two evils because this is the system we have, blah, blah, blah.” Look, I'm old enough to remember when there were only three channels to choose from on the TV. These kids grew up with 200 fucking coffee flavors to choose from every day of their lives. Good luck convincing them that only two parties are really the best we can do as a country. It's going to take more than continually pointing to the other side and saying “BOO” to inspire them. And I, for one, admire the hell out of that. I even married one.

Again, before you feel the need to Demsplain to me about party loyalty, I've already said I'm voting for your candidate. Just remember, if we defeat Tiny Hands McWhite Supremacist in November, don't think that gives you a free pass to coast next time. We'll talk again in four years.

Giant Tubs of Peanut Butter: A Post for My Mammy

Giant tubs of peanut butter. I’m trying to memorialize my grandmother, Kathy Holloman, (“Kitten” to some, “Rose” to my Grandad, “Mammy” to her grandkids. She didn’t have a middle name, so all the pet names made up for that) and all I can think about are these giant, food-service size tubs of peanut that she and my Grandad would bring me when I was in college at WKU. I was a theatre major and they never missed a I play in which I was cast (even a play called “Pvt. Wars” where I had to show my naked ass on stage. She said I was too skinny). Mammy, being a grandmother, always worried that I wasn’t eating. Of course, I wasn’t. I was a college student. I spent my money on cigarettes and beer and the occasional cup of coffee and slice of pie at Murray’s diner. So, whenever they came to Bowling Green, they would bring me a giant tub of peanut butter so I “didn’t go hungry.” To this day, when I need comfort, I will get a jar of peanut butter and eat it with a spoon. Mammy’s house became a popular destination for some of my college friends, because food. Dear lord, THE FOOD. An average weekend home from school would find a couple of pizzas, burgers, BBQ, bacon and eggs, banana pudding, coconut cake, and any number of sides and all of it prepared because, “I didn’t know what y’all would be in the mood for.” It’s at this point where things might get disjointed, because that’s how my mind is right now as I write this. Mammy’s oldest son, Bobby Holloman, my Dad, died at the age of 24 in 1975. I was five and my sister, Brandy, was eighteen months old. As a result, we were very close to Mammy. We would spend just about every weekend with her and Grandad. We went on a few vacations with them to Mammoth Cave or to spend a few days in a cottage at Kentucky Lake. One time, we were headed to St. Louis for a trip and I was torn, because there was a movie playing at the Capitol Cinema in Princeton that I really wanted to see. We were about 50 or so miles down the road when I pronounced that this movie was more important to me than St. Louis. Grandad turned the car around, we drove back to Princeton and went to the movies that night. I don’t remember what movie it was. It may have been Star Wars. Mammy played board games with me. She and Grandad taught me how to play Poker, Rummy, Black Jack, and Rook. When I was older, I lived with them off and on, when things would get tough. The woman loved Christmas. Nothing made her happier than a house full of family. I get a lot of my sense of humor from Grandad and it was honed and practiced on Mammy. There were many head shakes and eye rolls thrown at me and Grandad over the years. She was old school and would not leave the house unless her hair was done and she was made up. She loved to shop. There were times when we would ask how she was feeling and would tell us she wasn’t feeling that great and we would tell her that’s too bad, because we were going to go shopping and she would immediately respond with, “Well, let me get ready.” She lived long enough to see me get married, which was something I had been assuring her for years would never happen. She loved her grandkids. As long as she was able, she was at every play, show, recital, graduation, and court date. That last one was a joke. It’s going to be very weird on this planet without her on it, too. I lost my maternal grandmother, Mammaw, about eight months ago. This Christmas will be the first without both of my grandmothers. Considering that I’m 46, it’s remarkable that I got this many years with them both. I won the grandma lottery. We buried Mammy yesterday. She was laid to rest right next to my Dad. Everyone who knew her will miss her. She was 87. If she had lived just a little bit longer, she and Grandad would have been married 68 years. He and the rest of us were lucky to have her for so long.

I'm Done

I’m in a dark place today and I’m done. I’m writing this for myself and for others who feel the same way and no one else. I’m done debating gun control. If, by some miracle, there is ever legislation to support, I will support it, but after reading comments and reactions to the worst mass shooting in US history, I’ve decided that debating the issue on social media is pointless. If you should read this and disagree with anything I’m about to say, please take this as your invitation to move on. I know I can’t change your mind. Any comments that are designed to get a rise out of me or start a debate with me or any of my friends will be deleted. I’m done. You see, I’ve had a revelation and it’s this: You could take the NRA and all of the people who oppose ANY kind of restrictions on access to guns of ANY kind and throw them into a pool filled with the blood of every victim of gun violence in this country and shove their faces in the guts of the children who have been cut down by bullets fired from assault rifles that were designed for WAR and they would emerge, still stinking of death and gore, screaming about GOOD GUYS WITH GUNS or MENTAL HEALTH or PROTECTION FROM THE GOVERNMENT or, my new personal favorite, CRIMINALS WILL STILL GET THEM ON THE BLACK MARKET! (Oh really, middle class white person? Please share with me your vast knowledge of the criminal underworld and its inner workings. What? Do you think you’re “woke” because you’ve seen all the “Taken” movies?) They would explain, as they toweled off the blood and brains and chunks of dead flesh, how they are the true patriots and love this country more than anyone else and it’s the libtards that are ruining it and how Obama still has a few months left to snatch up all the guns. The 2^nd Amendment and money are the great golden calves that are worshipped in America. Sure, other amendments have been amended due to changing times and morals, but not that 2^nd one. I mean, why do we even need all those other pussy amendments anyway? Especially when the people for whom the 2^nd is the end all-be all are usually the people who favor some restrictions on speech, voting rights, and really, really wish that the government would just go ahead and declare Christianity as our national religion. These are some of the same people who are the first to defend law enforcement, but will wish death upon police officers who suggest that we need some kind of gun control, because the cops are tired of knocking on doors with AR-15’s on the other side. “Sorry you got shot, Officer, but even having a reasonable conversation about gun control is too much of a burden for me to bear.” So, I’m done. There can be no reasonable debate where there is no reason. As I said before, the people who oppose any kind of gun legislation see themselves as patriots. They see themselves as warriors, fighting a war for freedom. But, what kind of war is fought by people in air-conditioned houses, sitting and typing frantically on a laptop, while the victims of their “war” are innocent citizens who are out on the town just having fun…or at school…or at church…or at work? That’s not a war. That’s a group of privileged motherfuckers who would rather risk the lives of their fellow citizens, than change a law that might inconvenience them. You think the barest minimum of gun control is insane? Fine. I think that's inhuman. I don’t understand it. I can't fathom it. I’m done debating it. 
I am done.