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Aquarian
Weekly 3/26/08
REALITY CHECK
THE
SPEECH
Inside Barack Obama's Bold Sonnet To Our Bitter
Demons & Better Angels
For 37 minutes
on the18th day of March 2008, Barack Obama, junior senator from
Illinois and leading Democratic candidate for president of the
United States, delivered as brutally candid a speech about race,
human nature, and the forces for change that lie between them
as intellectually possible. It was the first time in the history
of this nation, a candidate for high office, or any office for
that matter, addressed the hard truth about its deepest, most
festering wound; a self-inflicted lesion so profoundly absurd
and odious it stands to this day as the greatest failure in America's
boldly infinite quest for equality.
Obama,
son of a black Kenyan man and white mother from Kansas, not only
addressed the realities of cultural divides in the most direct
of terms, but ripped open wide the scabs that we've been less-than
gently picking at for decades of riots, marches, assassinations
and defiantly booming rhetoric, but also let slip from our subconscious
at dining room tables and private parties.
It
may have been political suicide. It may have been transparently
self-serving. But it was without valid refute brilliantly honest
and long overdue.
It
had to be said, and it had to be said by him, the first truly
legitimate African American presidential candidate.
It
also had to be written and spoken as eloquently and forcefully
as it was, and it had to be done now.
It
had to be done on the heels of one solid week, hour after hour,
of rip-roaring lunacy from another religious/politico psycho by
the conspicuous name of Jeremiah Wright, former pastor from something
called the Trinity United Church of Christ. The man who married
Obama, baptized his kids, and originally hailed from the church
the candidate has clung to like a life preserver as he was accused
from every corner of being a Muslim, as if it were the crime of
all crimes, on 60 Minutes, the Internet wilderness, and by his
smarmy opponent.
A
Muslim? Imagine the horrors of that?
What
a crock it all is, this grab-ass cloak of religious righteousness
we demand from our public servants, who are forced to lip-service
our superstitions and by association are abducted by the cauldron
of separatist hate-speech and fire and brimstone diatribes aimed
at everything not falling in line.
It
is a sick and terrible world we enter in these Houses of the Lord,
closed-door meetings of the flock, who look to the pulpit for
atavistic pandering submentals to spew personal angst against
whatever you've got.
So
here was Barack Obama, standing in the birthplace of liberty,
draped in racist innuendo and religious madness, evoking the words
of Thomas Jefferson and William Faulkner, referencing the O.J.
Simpson murder trial and the Katrina disaster, deconstructing
the social and cultural ramifications of Affirmative Action and
Jim Crow, using the widest array of colloquialisms and slang from
"gangbanging" to "the laziness of welfare".
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Oh
Lord, how many more of these educated, ambitious young women
will be felled by this endless parade of slobbering cretins?
How many more of them will set the bar lower for a limping
women's movement left to defend college basketball players
at the mercy of evil radio geeks?
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Fucking
amazing is what it was. Shockingly, mind-numbingly crazed. I literally
laughed out loud during it. Chills and laughter; these are my
tenets; the bare essentials of why I wandered into writing about
this miserable shit in the first place.
This
was history. Real history. Not this fabricated televised nonsense
we're force-fed like lab rats. It was revolution in words. Striking
words. Distinct words. No surrender in them. Powerful stuff.
This
was a man not only running for president, a black man no less,
but a frontrunner down by nearly 20 points in a crucial primary
state, peering out into the glare of lights, poised microphones,
scribbling pads, and the one-eyed monster that had been tearing
pieces from him for seven long days, delivering the goods. This
was not a cultural leader like Martin Luther King or a radical
voice of a fringe movement like Malcolm X. This was not a professorial
university discussion or a stand-up routine by Chris Rock.
This was a minority candidate for president of the United States,
and he was not running for cover, offering up rhetorical apologies
or lame excuses. He was not rising above the issue like Jackie
Robinson or dancing around it like James Brown. Instead, Barack
Obama dove headfirst without a hint of remorse, embracing his
race while deftly looking beyond it, as his campaign has claimed
to strive for since its inception.
It
is not even fair to pull quotes from the thing without missing
its nuances. It would be like playing you 40 seconds of Miles
Davis' "So What" and pulling the plug or offering up "When I'm
Sixty Four" and claiming it captures Sgt. Pepper's. Fuck that
noise. Listen to it. Read it. Watch it. It's all over the net.
If you haven't seen it all the way through and do not emerge at
least in awe of the type of person who dares to provide a tangible,
concrete opinion on a passionate, divisive subject while also
trying to sucker you out of a vote, then I'm sorry, we're not
watching the same game.
What
Obama was able to do for what basically constituted 29 out of
37 minutes (the other eight or nine minutes were admittedly jammed
with pandering populist stuff) was box Pastor Wright and everyone
who clings to old grudges as some kind of badge of courage, and
told them it is time to let go. Change for real. No more of the
same anger Baby Boomers harbor for the Left and the Right; the
old guard, the has-beens, the jesters on radio and brooding curmudgeons
at the typewriters and the creaky bones using up space on Capitol
Hill. They all have axes to grind. They all have a point, black
and white. Everyone is mad with envy, disdain, fear, and posturing,
but Obama says, for his part - and it has steadily become a very
significant part in all of this - that he will abstain, thank
you very much.
And
here is where the purported Candidate of Change officially crosses
the generational divide. Here is where if found yourself supporting
what has heretofore been a showcase of progressive goofiness,
you can begin to believe this guy may actually mean it.
Look,
there was always very little chance a black man would ever be
elected president of a country forty years removed from his race
being denied access to eateries, public bathrooms or hotel accommodations.
It is a nothing short of a miracle and a testament to this great
nation's force of progress he stands before a crowd of predominately
white middleclass journalists in the city of our birthing and
pitches his domestic or international policies much less how and
why we are pandemically incapable of looking beyond a person's
skin or gender or religious affiliation in these infant years
of the 21st century.
But
then isn't it ever more shocking when you consider America currently
fights and dies halfway across the globe in a desert where the
kind of religious, racial and cultural chasm has grown as a cancer
for centuries, while we are less than two centuries removed from
our own bloody Civil War.
Glory,
glory, Halleluiah.
Indeed.
Reality
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