Now that the presidential primaries are over and America has agreed on the results, here's a sneak peak at the political tribal council taking place inside my brain:For the last eight years, you've been stranded on an island called Bushland, a wilderness full of chaos and disorder threatening to extinguish your flame. Your very survival is at stake. You and the others must escape Bushland or perish ...
You made it through the primary challenge, where everyone voted for the best person to captain the boat taking you and the others to safety. Not everyone got a vote, as it turned out, but those whose votes counted settled on two finalist, both men. Personally, you figured the woman candidate to be the best choice, but she's not an option anymore. To get outta Bushland, you must choose between Captain Obama or Captain McCain, and your survival depends on it.
Captain Obama is a relative newcomer to your brain, but at least he's black like you, so if there's more stormy weather and things get divided up along racial lines, as usual in a crisis, at least Captain Obama and you will be in the same boat ...
But looks can be deceiving, so you need to consider more than just race in the race for survival. You need to ask yourself: which one of these two men has my best interests at heart (my best interests being my own personal welfare and survival). Figure that out, then choose your leader ...
But the tribal council keeps getting interrupted by all the bursts of rhetoric by each candidate about his particular vision, claiming this and that about the world beyond Bushland. The island residents are abuzz with still more rhetoric, claiming this and that about the candidates. As Long John Silver of Treasure Island used to say, Belay that! Look at your own survival, decide for yourself who cares the most about you.
Answer: neither one.
Neither Captains Obama nor McCain has your best interests at heart (nor did Captain Clinton, for that matter). None of these would-be leaders sees you as their equal, equally deserving of the same resources, laws and customs of the land. For you, the Rorschach test for full acceptance of Who I Am is the granting of same-sex marriage privileges—not the civic-minded crumbs leftover from the wedding feast. You want in at the main table. Not a separate but equal so-called equivalent. And not one of the candidates has said: the love you create is just as valuable as the love I create, and I thereby pronounce to you and yours: I support same-sex marriage and will do my absolute best as captain of your ship of dreams to make your dreams come true.
Neither John McCain nor Barack Obama support your deepest dreams. Instead, they cling to ideas created hundreds of years ago by ancient peoples with the kinds of agendas many pundits would now call ... Bushland-like. The oppression. The suppression. The duplicity. The altering of rules to suit the coffers. Those long-dead captains of industrious sex lives—the same men who insisted the world is flat and once sanctioned (for their own profit) prostitution and holy men marrying—these ancient folk are the ones inspiring Obama and McCain's thoughts about you. Beware and be very aware. Beware even more of the one known as McCain. You get the feeling a black homosexual living with AIDS who dreams of equality is expendable in the old man's eyes. You're not expendable to Captain Obama. The one known as Barack has some of your interests at heart, just not the deepest dreams of your heart. The ultimate truth remains: both men see your kind of love (and happiness) as worth less than theirs.
Still, you gotta get yo' ass outta Bush country, and they promise your vote is gonna count, so pick a captain and his crew and hope this brave new world is a less hostile place than the last eight years ...
Footnote: The tribal council done spoken: No way is this brain letting the black ass attached to it sit behind yet another old-ass, white-faced ancient.
