Bill Bradley’s Heart and the History of America Since Bill Clinton Sexed An Intern

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Billy B had a smooth jump shot but he had a weak heart. If only he could have outlasted Al Gore and ran against Bush, the song. I gave him a jump shooter’s chance. Bush had nothing. He rode bikes. Was a runner. Sent America spiraling into dysfunctionalism. Bradley had mad game.

So Bush won, because Al Gore conceded, then unconceded, but it was too late. He looked like a loser, though he would have won had the U.S. Supreme Court allowed the count to continue in the counties where he sued. This is a fact. But the GOP cronies on the court stopped democracy from happening. The vote of the voters did not go forward and they appointed Bush the king. So he could never be legitimate.

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Immediately, he acted like it. Like a weakling. He started a war that was idiotic and wasteful. He refused to pay for it. He swung and missed like a rookie on Hurricane Katrina, and he swung and missed on the mortgage crisis, giving only fat cats a bailout, not the ordinary citizen. By 2008, people were done with him and his party. Enter the Magic Negro, from Hawaii, with the speech for the ages, and the ethical life. Barack Obama.

We all know it was the right time for him. He was the right guy. He was black but his momma was white. He was black but his father was an African immigrant, with no connect to chattel slavery. He was highly intelligent, and as Shelby Steele noted, he was not, a challenger. He did not invoke guilt and shame in white people. He took them with a clean slate. Black folks disliked this about him. But no question they would vote for him too. History was in the making. Symbolism was sometimes all we could obtain in the U.S. as a colonial people who the nation swore were now citizens. (Laughter)

Obama’s success, on health care, the stimulus act, alternative energy, equal pay, and his very clean days in office led to the abhorrent arrival of Donald Trump, a man who is part P.W. Botha, part Archie Bunker. White supremacy rose from the shadows though it was always there. White people (Americans) afraid to say how they felt about people of color and their status in society, were advised it was OK to be racist and to act openly racist. Obama, they insisted, was the racist.

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So, of course, this is where we are now. A ridiculous ride. If only Bradley’s heart had not lost its rhythm. If only he could have beaten Al Gore for the nomination. If only. Maybe, just maybe, we never get Bush. We never go to Iraq. We never get a dysfunctional government that pissed on the people in New Orleans, and over the mortgage crisis (which might not have even happened with better oversight). We then never get Barack Obama. He becomes a Senator and writes poetry, loves his wife and children. Donald Trump stays under that rock in Queens. He won’t dare crawl out and spew his hate. But here we are:

Numbers runner. Cigar smoker.

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