“I am not afraid Trump would return. If he did, he would be shamed twice.”
―Don Okolo
Unless you are a Blues lover, you couldn’t tell where I pulled that from. I know most of you know the source. But I mo’ tell ya anyway: As far as Blues and Rock fused bands go, ZZ Top takes the cake for me. Look them up and listen to this forty-six-year-old gem they titled, ‘Blue Jean Blues’ to find the quartet of hilly billy looking bad boys, strutting with devilish finesse on various instruments, with each wearing the same mug Nebuchadnezzar popularized.
This is not me harping on the band’s flawless bluescianship, nor is it one about them owning the strings to that hard-to-find, hard rock chops, and neither is this about a particular music genre. This is the only way I know to pull you through the rigors of politics, through that tight-as-a-clam’s ass cranny, to draw you in, as in a solid-state kind of a red herring to make you think you would be reading and loving on music on this dreadful trip, and not on the drowsy precepts of politics and politicians.
I do, on occasion, listen to the ZZ Top’s masterpiece to improve on my deportment, and on the rising, raging, vexing fabrics of anger that politics, and the ones who truly play in her trough have brought on board. It is a long ride…and between the point where you and I boarded this Zeppelin, the chances we would crash and burn before we reached our destination is slim to none. And as they say: Slim just left town.
This year, 2020, is rolling through every lively tongue…and the cacophony of a dirge that it is, is heavy with the phlegm of bitterness. One would usually spit and then gaggle to dislodge such discomfort and then move on. But it ain’t so with this communal ride; you must agree to abide by the law before you board so you don’t gross anyone out; you are not allowed to spit, even with a mouth full of acrimony. Everything must be swallowed effortlessly…without the countenance bemoaning the expression of distaste as you swallow.
No matter how many baggies of fairness Joe Biden and Kamala Harris would load into this mothership, this trip to hell, to palliate the extremes of madness, and that of pure derision, is dead. To get the other side (seventy-plus million Americans) to use their vocal chords on a same song sing-along, would be hard. It would be easier to get a basketball to pass through a tennis ball size hoop before these dyed-in-the-wool republicans would play good, rational politics with the rest of us. Forget it.
One would find an elephant mating with an otter in the Serengeti, before one would get some of these hairbrained, gavel-headed republicans to acquiesce. Again, like they say; it ain’t gonna happen. The body polity has reached rigor mortis. And the only One who could rewrite it, and then raise it, left a long time ago…two thousand years ago to be exact.
Here is what I am trying to tell you…
No one gets a pass, and definitely, not the kind of pass the president for the next thirty-something days has gotten. Absolutely, no one. But he did…and as you can see, he wears that shamefully discolored halo like a badge of honor. Now:
- Remember the Russians putting a bounty on the heads of American soldiers…and the president never said a word about it?
- Remember…and this was just in last ten days, that seven or eight agencies had their computers breached…and the president has yet to call up Putin about it…or say something in anger for the rest of the world to see/hear. And,
- The one where God could have lied to the evangelicals. These false preachers claimed, in fiery rhetorical bombasts, that God spoke to them with pointed specifics; that Donald Trump would be reelected?
You know, the Devil is a smoother romantic, and would woo one with cooler, soothing poetry…especially when he whispered into the ears of the gullible and those that are not afraid to use the name of God vainly. Otherwise, why would these preachers lie enthusiastically and with a straight face? The Devil, the Whisperer, stupid…that’s why.
The master of the game of deceit is always at the helm of his game; his repertoire is ladened with the jollies of duplicity and deception. And if you were a preacher man/woman, you would think the tidbits you had gotten came directly from Second Heaven…in the zone where the ones that watch the countenance of God reside. You have been had…and royally too. Take these three issues, and you will see how preposterous they are…how so freaking silly and laughable they were, and still are. If you really want to see the thickness of this obscurity we are wallowing in, the depth of this dung hole we are embedded in, then you should begin by being a realist.
We have a good chunk of the people who would prefer that this nation was for white people only.
The reality of the situation is that we have a good chunk of the people who would prefer that this nation was for white people only. If you do not see the scary quotients, the deathly shares in the hands these seventy-something million, mostly white people that voted for Trump had dealt us, then you would never understand fully, the seriousness and the gravity in this five-card money game we are engaged in. If a second opportunity came for them…and it would come, if we did nothing about it…these men and women would ram us from the rear, without the benefit of a reach-around, and then shove us over the edge when they have had their fill…into the bottomless pit.
Indeed, I finally found my old blue jeans with the election of Biden and Harris. Still clean; no motor oil spills and holes in it. But I am afraid that Donald Trump leaving the white house is a temporal fix. I am not afraid he would return. If he did, he would be shamed twice. That alone keeps him off the berth…off the starting line-up. So, do not worry about the one who dresses in worn-out, discarded mantle…whose fashion begins with borrowed robes…whose newest fashion begins when much of it is stale and out of use. (Got that from William Shakespeare) We should worry about the seventy-something million whites and how far screwed up and irredeemable their minds had gone. How to corral them and then teach them the finer nuances of being truly human, would be the biggest challenge in my opinion. As far as I am concerned, it will take the second coming of Jesus Christ to get them agreeing with the program. That is an allegory that this nation would probably disintegrate first before the next crop of level-headed social and political beings would rise from her ashes. But I pray that I am wrong.
To beat these people at their own game, and to save democracy and freedom, we must adopt the same tenacity, and the elasticity kind of drive of a Stacy Abram
In truth, it is the seventeen attorneys general, and the one hundred and twenty-six republican members of the lower house that got me chunking my wagon. I need a Learjet to fly to a faraway land…the land where Nostradamus had predicted would see no evil, hear no evil. In all honesty, I am hoping that Nancy Pelosi would not sit these congress men and women. She could, but she won’t. I am not entirely sure about the rules of the game here; but my suspicion is that if she were to refuse them their seats in congress, all hell could break loose.
It would mean, and that’s all it would portend, that Democrats have found a way to return fire with fire. Do me I do you, God no vex. (Pidgin English. And this has nothing to do with sex) Sleep with one eye open for the next four years. To beat these people at their own game, and to save democracy and freedom, we must adopt the same tenacity, and the elasticity kind of drive of a Stacy Abram…the lioness, the Dame of Cawdor and Atlanta, Georgia,…to deputize and organize plentifully a swath of the republican base, at least to get them to change course and ride on that beloved mantra: Live and let live.
♦ Don Okolo, Professor and filmmaker, is on the Editorial Board of the West African Pilot News. He is the author of many books.
