Thots & Thoughts is a column in which musings on dating, sex, race, religion, and politics all come together—from a bird's-eye view.
I like Bernie Sanders enough that I made the recent decision to donate an amount equivalent to the cost of catfish dinner to his cause. Do I think he’s going to win the nomination? I find that as likely as Amber Rose and Kim Kardashian recording a cover of “The Boy Is Mine” and winning a Grammy for Record of the Year. Yes, Sanders scored a “virtual tie” in Iowa last night and will likely win the New Hampshire primary; still, when it comes to states like South Carolina where the Black vote largely determines the victor, Sanders has his work cut out for him.
I had long advised Sanders to let Killer Mike continue to do his thing, but he should also call Charlie Wilson and Ron Isley to perform at a few rallies. It’s not the Kendrick Lamar vote he needs to win, but more so the Frankie Beverly and Maze fold. Clinton polls stronger among older voters in general, which is why she managed to edge out Sanders in Iowa, but there’s an even wider gap among older Black voters who remain largely unfamiliar with the Vermont senator. Both groups are also old enough to have seen idealistic candidates from the left lose to the war mongers on the right in a presidential year.
I made the mistake of voicing these sentiments on a recent date and it reminded me of how frustrating it can be to date in an election year.
Picture it: me drinking brown liquor and being charming when the conversation shifts to politics. I explain that while I am not especially fond of Hillary Clinton, I do feel that after the New Hampshire primary, she’s most likely to win the states and delegates necessary to become the Democratic nominee for president. I add that Clinton is more likely to accomplish her agenda given that, months ago, she unveiled a plan to capitalize on Obama's use of executive power. To conclude, I offer that unless President Bernie Sanders tramples Capitol Hill like Godzilla, killing everyone in office so that we can start over in some politician-less paradise, chances are slimmer than a Bad Boy royalty check that homeboy gets much done as an executive.
You’d have thought I’d said, "Fuck Bernie Sanders, fuck you, and fuck you hippy-dippy assholes standing in the way of reasonable pragmatism with your strain of idealism that should be rolled into a big-ass blunt." A heated back and forth ensued and despite all his attempts to get me to Feel The Bern more, all I could feel was myself going flaccid.
Funny enough, this is not the first time I drew a side-eye on a date instead of the more ideal circumstance—an erection—while discussing politics. There's a debate online over whether “Bernie Bros” actually exist or not, but I’m clear in my stance. I say this with all the love and consideration in the world to Sanders’ most ardent supporters: many of y’all are annoying as fuck.
I can’t speak to what it’s like dating a Donald Trump supporter because my melanin and same-sex attraction function as a natural repellant.
Fervor’s great, but with limitations. Have a shot of chill and don’t try to make me the Jeb! to your Donald Trump. Of course, I can’t speak to what it’s like dating a Donald Trump supporter because my melanin and same-sex attraction function as a natural repellant. I can, however, say that I now find it not worth it to flirt with anyone who genuinely thinks Donald Trump will become the next president.
In this instance, it was not so much because he agreed with Trump’s ideology. In his case, he just felt America is so inherently racist that it will vote for a reality star. You know, the Azealia Banks logic. I don’t believe Trump is completely out of the race for losing in a state that thought Mike Huckabee and Rick Santorum were good options for president, but Young Hitler is not going to be anyone’s president.
Oh, and I don’t date white women over 45, so when it comes to Hillary Clinton, I’ve avoided the 2016 equivalent to PUMAs thus far.
Nevertheless, this has already felt like the longest election ever and we’re months away from November. That means the very passionate people will only grow more passionate and more prone to wearing me thin with their adventures in political punditry. I get its importance; I write about politics sometimes to pay my rent. But I’m already worn thin and remembering why I was once told to never talk about politics.
Ideally, I’d like to follow this line of thinking and center conversations on more civilized topics like Beyoncé’s amazingness. Should it slide into politics, I’ll just bring up Future, because as a wise meme once said, “If she doesn't listen to Future, we don’t have one.”