Hillary Clinton Doesn’t Control Penises

Hello. I am back again with an installment of ‘Things that Hillary Clinton doesn’t control’. Last time we were here we learned that ‘Hillary Clinton owes you nothing’, but it seems that since we last saw each other, people have once again become confused about Hillary Clinton. Let me help clear things up a bit for you.
Hillary Clinton does not control penises. Any penises. At all. It seems that since the news of Harvey Weinstein surfaced, people have been unfairly blaming Hillary and Democrats for things that he tried to do to satisfy his penis. Hillary Clinton had nothing to do with that. At all. I am pretty sure if he had said, “Hey Hillary! I am planning on trying to make my penis happy and boost my ego by using my power against young women, do you approve?”, she would have told him to seek help and put him on her mythical ‘enemies list’.
Another salient point made by myself to myself yesterday was, ‘if Hillary had control of penises, isn’t there a penis near her she would have controlled in the 90s?’. I believe my point is valid. I will not go into it because it is at this point, none of my fucking business. And if Democrats controlled penises, we would have damn sure controlled Anthony Weiner’s weiner. Just saying.
But the big thing that people seem to miss in their daily witch burnings of Hillary Clinton is…. TRUMP GRABS THEM BY THE PUSSY. And HE is the President, not her. You would think that making sure to flood social media with negative hit pieces on Hillary until they dragged her down and helped her lose would be enough for these idiots. But, no. They are still dragging her out for her daily stoning in the town square.

Shutting down minority voices is a Pyrrhic Victory

As I am entering days six of my twitter prison sentence for daring to say ‘’Fuck You!” to Susan Sarandon, I have reflected on quite a few things. One is the thrill that some groups of young white men feel when they are successful at targeting minority voices for a shut down. The second, and equally important thing is the fact that shutting down voices is not the victory some seem to think it is.
Let’s take my shut down, for instance; while I may be quiet on twitter, my voice lives on. Not only did I gain followers, but the story of my harassment did gain more attention than it would have if they had simply left well enough alone.

The absolute zeal with which the Sarandon brigade attacked me reminded me of attacks on some specific people in our contemporary times; Hillary Clinton, Michelle Obama, Maxine Waters. and Kamala Harris, to name a few. The one thing we all have in common is the fact that we are women; strong women, out spoken women, women who refuse to kowtow to male dominance or apply double standards to other women. Which is quite unlike Susan, who supported John Edwards, who voted for war, but considered that vote disqualifying when it came to Hillary.
The attacks I withstood often had absolutely nothing to do with anything I had actually done or said; most of the attacks were lobbed at me because the attackers could not reach the woman they really wanted to hurt. I became an avatar for evil womanhood, similar to a witch in Salem. Nothing was off the table, no attack was considered too over the top to be sent my way. Such is the burden of womanhood.
The minor victory of shutting me up for a week did not kill my voice or any of my ideas. In fact, they proved even more why voices like mine are important in political discussions, and have shined a light on the malignant racism and sexism that is becoming pervasive among the ‘far left’. I do not plan on ending my campaign of pointing out their paternalism, racism, white privilege, or anything else they engage. In face, I have decided to become LOUDER.
I want to thank my harassers for showing their asses. They have given me the opportunity to hold a mirror up for them, to show them who they are, and make as many as I can aware of their attitudes and actions.
Hiding the truth, shutting it down, shutting the messenger up does not kill the message. It does not solve the problem. It just makes the message that much more urgent and important. It is not a win.
African AmericanBernie SandersDemocratsPolitics

Trump is not comforting (and neither is Bernie)

I am awed by the complete lack of comfort people seem to feel when a disaster strikes and Trump comes to ‘help’. It seems like he enjoys the carnage. When Obama came to comfort families the entire nation felt comforted. Times like this we need to go rewatch Obama after Sandy Hook and try to ignore Trump.

Another person who is not comforting is Bernie Sanders. Dear Bernie,

We all remember that the NRA helped you win your first congressional seat.

This is a question that has been on my mind too. Why is it that Bernie’s superpower seems to be the ability to find a camera to get in front of? I might take him more serious on gun control if not for his votes against the Brady bill and against allowing victims to sue gun manufacturers.

Twitter Jail: Day Five

As I began day five of Administrative Segregation on Twitter I fucked around and tried to like a tweet. If you have ever been in twitter jail before, you know that you cannot even like a tweet. Sad. I got this message.

Damn you twitter.

 

Fine. I will stay in twitter jail and hide on my nearly empty blog twitter, but know this: I am still NOT SORRY for saying ‘Fuck You!’ to Susan Sarandon. I honestly think I was rather too kind the first time.

 

 

 

Make America Great – Poem to Trump’s America

Broken

A nation of broken syringes;
Walmart faces
Offering Tiki torches are brownshirts arms held aloft.
And
America hasn’t changed.
Twisted nostalgic lynched picnics
Tear through our exceptionalism.
And
America isn’t brave.
Living men resurrect dead slaves
And fly their flags of primacy like a child’s drawing.
While
America hides in vain.
Color blind halcyons hide dark faces
With white graces.
And
America is still the same.
Lie forged memories
Blindly see with amnesiac brains
as,
America prides in shame.
Numb men provide death gifts to strangers
Mowing down crowds
As,
America drowns in pain.

Make America Great.

 

Never Say Fuck You to Susan Sarandon (If you are a black woman on Twitter)

Now as many who interact me may know, I can be a sarcastic and comedic person in my twitter jeremiads. At times I will make a joke, poem, or yes, even a graphic to express my feelings on issues. One of the issues included in my daily diatribes is the fact that I have VERY STRONG FEELINGS about anyone who I feel drove voters away from the Democratic party, and this nation into the clutches of Donald Trump.

On a lovely autumn day while the flora was transitioning from the deep verdant greens of summer, to the fiery foliage of Fall, I found myself once again deeply irritated at ‘those who gave us Trump’. As one who considers herself a poet, a mediocre Artist, and a world class champion in the art of saying ‘Fuck You!’, I opened up my Safari browser and got to work. I chose photos (good shots, only the best for my memes) and decided on nine individuals to grace my Canva collage. Alas, I had forgotten to say ‘Fuck You!’ a VERY IMPORTANT PERSON; and I was made aware of that fact by my Twitter Allies. How could I have forgotten such a lovely and esteemed hater of Hillary over Trump as Susan Sarandon herself? Oh she of the ‘vote with my vagina’ insanity, she of the ‘they are both the SAME!’ canard, I had to rectify this situation posthaste.

As much as I loved my original ‘Fuck You!’ collage, I found that I really did want to make up for my failure at including Sue. I slaved for another twenty minutes. I chose only the best photos, no objectifying, no looking for candid shots of her in a stressful situation, no! Only the best for my memes. After arranging her into a three by three collage, much like Hollywood squares, I thought, I congratulated myself. She looked lovely. I already knew which variations of ‘Fuck You!’ to use, I just swiped most of them from my previous piece. But I needed to make sure the words had aesthetic appeal, as they are now arranged atop Queen Susan. Another ten minutes choosing colors for the type was time well spent. I hurried to show my twitterfriends my magnificent Creation.

La! We enjoyed that poster ever so much the first day! We spoke of coffee mugs, t-shirt and shower curtain, Susan would be pleased, I was sure. And she was. She typed off a quick tweet to me in appreciation of the apology to my followers; I am sure she saved my graphic. It really brought out her eyes. Then the Suepocalypse began. Her fans swarmed, they attacked, they were ‘personally offended’ and they knew that I had strayed from my ‘place’. A few ‘fat black bitches’ later, and my puzzlement turned to anger. How dare they? My weight and skin color should not be an impediment to saying ‘Fuck You!’ to a Wealthy White Woman! Should it? No, I decided. This is 2017, black women can say ‘Fuck You!’ to a Wealthy White Woman without all of the ‘anti capitalist’ revolution conducting a high tech lynching. Easy to ignore me, and besides, they would soon stop trying to be tools of one percenter, Susan Sarandon, who was probably picking out ballgowns and not even noticing their dedication to her honor. Unfortunately, I was wrong.

Many defended me. The Daily Banter tried to help, only to be bullied mercilessly. Bet.com tried to step in, but that only fueled the fire of self righteousness in their breasts. ‘How dark that BLACK WOMAN say ‘Fuck You!’ to QUEEN SUSAN?’, is what I imagined they raged. I was to told get a job, be a real activist (standing with a stupid sign in Sears parking lot does not count!! Neither does advocating for causes online, shut up black lady.), and to stop being angry about being black and try to become a wealthy woman myself.

I tried not to think of Miss Sofia. But having seen the film no less than 1,000 times, (I have it on my Ipad) I could not help but hearing ‘Hell naw!’. I was comforted by the fact that they could not actually reach out and touch me. The masses of notifications telling me what a horrible black beast grew by the hour. They alerted every comment. They accused me of BULLYING THE ENTIRE BERNIE SANDERS REVOLUTION. By myself. Well, I considered that a compliment, but I had to remind them that they were coming to me.

As things stand, you won’t catch a glimpse of me on Twitter this week. I was suspended for calling a man a ‘bad teacher’, which I know sounds worse than ‘fat black bitch’ but things that black people say always sound and look much worse than they are. But I will always remember my high tech lynching. And I will remember that I am lucky that mine was merely online. Our ancestors were not so lucky when they fixed their lips to ‘Sass’ a white lady. I remain Uppity Queen Bravenak. And guess what? Fuck Susan Sarandon. Really, Fuck Sue.