Don't ask, don't tell!!! If your kid is sick, get off your lazy, welfare ass, cuz' there ain't no more hand-outs for you, and get a job that might give your pulling brat some benefits!!! Damn you, People, don't get so fucking upset about the lack of change! How do you expect Bill to change things if he stops changing to actually affect the change he has promised--now would that be logical?
Given that we now have a touch, for that is all we can really have, of understanding about the nature of Bill, I find it uniquely interesting that he has set it as his goal (and wants it to be the legacy of his Presidency) to help resolve the racial problems of America. I don't find it interesting because of the immensity of the problem he proposes to tackle (for sheer immensity I would say that taking on the insurance industry was a greater challenge when you consider how money runs Washington); noooooo, I find it interesting because of the nature of the problem he proposes to solve. This isn't a "get me a monkey wrench and hammer" type of a problem. Nor is it a "with thoughtful and provoking discussion we will find a way" type of problem. Uh huh, this is a "if we had an answer and a dollar for every drop of water in the ocean we would still be in over our heads" type of problem. Yep, you see, for if there is anything in the universe that is harder to pin down than Bill Clinton it would be American Racism--and that is what has me intrigued.
Sure, you got your sheet-wearing bigots and their flaming crosses, but they are the tip of the racial iceberg and in all actuality don't present much of a problem. They are visible and easy, relatively speaking, to avoid. The racism that is cutting this country apart is the bigotry and prejudice that we all carry around in our hearts. It is the relaxation we feel around people like us and don't feel around those that aren't. It is the racism that allows familiarity to guide our course in life rather than to challenge the barriers that exist and try to find a new path for ourselves and society. It is not pointing the finger of blame at extreme examples, but realizing we are also a living legacy of human discord and trying to correct that in ourselves and then our children. It is the many thousands of layers that are individually transparent, so small and seemingly insignificant, but when combined cause the rifts that have segmented us as a people and a culture. It is this serpentine issue that Bill has put into his sights and is promising to blow off the horizon. This monumentally abstract problem is being challenged by a monumentally abstract resolver and, if nothing else, it promises to be interesting.
But, putting all sarcasm aside, I think this was a good move for Bill. For a man who should, if he isn't already, be known infamously for the change he hasn't affected, this really and truly is the issue to stake the legacy of his regime. Oh yes, Bill may be lacking moral courage, resolve, and initiative, but the one thing he has in abundance is guile. He knows in his heart that he now has an issue that he can drag with him everywhere and wave as his personal banner, yet need do little more than talk about to keep alive. With racism Bill has found an issue that we all dearly would love to have changed, but have no way of measuring the progress of that change. Yes, finally he has something he can talk about changing that won't at anytime require him to actually change or stop talking about it. For the ambiguous character of Bill Clinton, posing to solve the racial problems of America is an inspired stance. Plus, and this is just pure gravy, we, the people of this great country, get to see the truly impossible happen: A man without a position making a stand.
Covered
I've wallowed in a pool of mindless drivel, pumping out one poor column after another--the same old tired themes gussied up in new dresses--while it stared me in the eyes. It had been there for years, accepted for years, and yet I've strained to string together barely literate nonsense rather than tap its rich (some might say gravied) source. Hours, days, maybe even weeks, have been wasted as I toiled to issue my product, hone my craft, collect an audience that appreciates my style, and, finally, gain the acceptance and recognition that hard work earns. What a fool I've been!!!!
No longer is this amigo going to waste precious hours picking the exact word to match the paragraph. No longer am I going to search the social and political landscape for ideas that could, after much tinkering and re-working, become an essay that may invoke some thought or response. Forget about the immense effort of a purely creative piece. Nope. Nooo Waaaay. That's sucker work and I've finally realized it.
I'd be ashamed to admit that it has taken me so long to realize this obvious pool of boundless resources, if it weren't for the fact that no one else seems to have figured it out either. What we clearly see as the sun was really the burning chariot of Apollo until some clever pollack sat back and looked at it in a different light--so to speak. It takes a momentary suspension of accepted norms coupled with an instance of clarity and entire paradigms shift. Or, as in my case, it just takes one big-titted, blonde, whiny, no-talent singer to continue her meteoric rise to the top as she howls out bad songs from the past, and your world will never be the same. What I'm talking about is none other than my velvet-lined rocket to fame and fortune--I'm talking literary covers.
You've read Faulkner, you think you might like Faulkner, but that old bad boy just doesn't have a rhythm you can dance to. What the hell is up with his 800 word sentences? His shit may have flown back when getting a public education meant a reading level above the third grade, but it just don't fly today. You let a contemporary cat like myself get in there and re-tool that bird and soon she'll be singing a tune we all know and love. Christ, I'm not talking major changes (cuz' that would be work)!! Heck, I'm not even talking about changing words. A first-class literary cover artist, like myself, will leave the integrity of the original but make the new version speak to a different crowd. All I'm talking about is punctuation and fonts. That's it. No more. Case closed.
I figure the original artist already sweated out the hard stuff, so why should I go back in and create work for myself--be like shooting a horse that's already dead. I intend, like all music covers have done, to take the original and somehow claim it as mine with nothing greater than a simple surface change--if it even has to go that far. I'm assuming that some of the more contemporary poems and essays will need little more than a good, clean re-printing in a new journal, with my name on them, of course, to give them the re-newed vigor they richly deserve (I might have to italicize a word or two to claim artistic creation and negate the protests of bores who would like to label my new art form as plagiarism, but that is simple enough).
Yes, never again will I struggle for a deadline. Gone forever are the days of questioning the content and quality of my work. From here on out it is just buckets of gravy being thrown at me by a deeply appreciative audience that is howling with joy at getting to read the classics without having to adjust their mindsets to a piece that wasn't directly aimed at their particular consciousness. In one stunning move I have found my way to Easy Street and have gotten a luxury home to boot, and it ain't going to cost me nothing. From now on, when my editor asks me how my writing is going, I'll look him straight in the eye, give that smile of the lucky and gifted, and chant my new mantra: "I've got it covered."
**Please keep your eyes open for my forthcoming books: Popular Poems, a Hip-hoppin'Re-mix and Essays You've Thought You've Read.
return to the subbasement.