the obligatory post-election post

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i've spent more than a little time trying to figure out how to couch what i'm about to say in terms that won't seem churlish, because i know how much it meant to so many people, but since i (a) was so outta step with both the left and the right when it came to this election, and (b) am so completely dry-eyed and unmoved by its outcome, that's probably not possible. so let's just take the standard bullshit talking points one by one and be done with 'em, shall we?

1. this was the most important election of our lifetime.

no, it wasn't. there isn't an american politician alive who has either the ability or the guts to do what's necessary to avert the economic catastrophe that's about to engulf not only our country, but the world--it's the next election that'll probably matter.

2. we have been gifted by god with the most inspiring leader since jfk.

yeah. i almost wish i could cast my gaze upon our president-elect and see what the adoring masses see--but only almost. problem is, i don't get all misty-eyed and heart-swellingly sentimental over politicians anymore; my early enthrallment and subsequent disillusionment with the kennedy brothers long since cured me of such dangerous illusions. instead, when i try to plot a political candidate's future trajectory, i look past how telegenic they are, how well they comport themselves and how smoothly they talk about what they're gonna do, and instead focus on where they've been and what they've actually done. silly, right?

3. i'm so proud that my country was able to rise above its inherent racism and finally do the right thing.

bullshit. i've said it before and i'll say it again: you show me any other advanced culture in the history of civilization that has taken an entire race of people from abject slavery to full legal parity in 100 years--or hell, show me any other culture on earth in which a member of a racial minority can secure a free top-tier education and advance to the upper echelons of its society--do that, and then you can lecture me about how "racist" america is.

seriously--we're racist? as opposed to who else in the world? all this election did is confirm what i've known since nineteen sixty-fucking-four: we're one of the most progressive countries on earth as concerns race, and if this election has done nothing else, it has once and for all given me--good ol' mkf--the inalienable right to look the the racial-whiners in the eye and say, "we elected a black president--shut the fuck up already." [you can tell the alcohol's kicking in, right?]

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i was not a supporter of barack obama--i didn't contribute to his campaign, nor did i vote for him in either the primary or the general election.

am i sorry he won? that's a complicated question; let us merely say that i'm grateful his election precludes the possibility of a president palin (at least this time around).

do i see any bright side to his ascendency? sure: our president-elect is demonstrably smart, sophisticated, focused, disciplined, and has at least a sense of america as it exists in the context of the world (a refreshing contrast not only to his predecessor, but also to his opponent).

may he rise magnificently to the challenge set before him; for all our sakes, i wish him godspeed (i.e., i figure a three-month honeymoon's fair before i start ripping into him).

joe

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[ancient history--i lived and wrote this eons ago, but since (a) i haven't posted in a goddam week, and/or (b) this blog has become so nauseatingly family-friendly of late, i'm offering up the following]


after establishing i'm not into three-ways (because i don't even wanna think about what the sugar daddy's like)--he assures me it's cool, they play separately--he invites me over to his place, telling me he prefers to play there. i balk, telling him i'm not into being filmed or watched by the lover from a louvered-door closet (because i've had some experience in this regard). he assures me this will not be the case; the lover will have long since gone to bed in a different wing of the house by the time i get there, and from the beachfront address he gives me i can totally see how that could be true so i decide to take him at his word and grab my drink and my keys.

he answers the door looking much like his pictures--latin, short, compact worked-out gymnast's body, mid-thirties if he's a day but very well-maintained.

during the preliminaries, he starts calling me daddy--and since i've gotten that all my gay life, it doesn't kill the mood.

i fuck him well, as always, fake my orgasm and make him cum--you know, my usual. then afterwards, i pull him close, start nuzzling him and playing with his nipples (cause he loves that), and initiate the standard guttermorality post-coital interview.

i make him tell me his whole sexual history, with particular emphasis on the first time he got fucked. he's reluctant to give it up; i feel him stiffen in my arms.

but i sternly persist, and he eventually does [yes, daddy]. turns out it was a trusted employee of his father's, when he was 13. i make him give me every excruciating, secret, painful detail, and as he does i re-enact it, employing verbal skills i scarcely knew i possessed--and god, i fuck him just like his dad's employee did--face-down and screaming, mouth buried in his pillow, and he cums and i cum--hard--and it's totally hot and then afterwards, even though he's in his thirties, i walk away feeling like a child-molesting perv.

[he calls me several times afterwards; i never go back]