Hello. Come on in. The daddy writes about current events, literature, music and, once in a while, drops something on you from back in the day to make you pause and ponder, stop and stare, and begin to wonder. Who knows? You may start to pace the floor, shake your head from side to side, then fall down on bended knees in a praying position and cry, "Lawd, have mercy! What is this world coming to?" Check yourself! But this blog is NOT about the daddy. It's about you: your boos, your fam, your hood, your country...our hopes and dreams of a better tomorrow. So let's make a pact: the daddy will put it on the track if you'll chase it down and hit him back. Together, we can definitely take it to another level. Shall we?"

Friday, May 9, 2008

Hillary Clinton: The Thrill is Gone

"The thrill is gone/ The thrill is gone away/ Oh, the thrill is gone/ Baby, it's gone away/ You know you done me wrong now baby/ And you'll be sorry someday."
B.B. King

You see a pattern now. In the North Carolina, you saw over 90% of black people vote for Sen. Barack Obama over opponent Sen. Hillary Clinton. You saw it in South Carolina. Before South Carolina's primary, pundits were scratching and shaking their bowed heads, utterly perplexed as to why Blacks had not taken a shine, so to speak, to the skinny black guy with the funny name, to one of their own. But that was all before former Prez Bill Clinton came to town. That was before "the black president" pulled the race card, suggesting that the skinny black guy was just another Jessie Jackson without a big afro, suggesting, indeed, that the skinny black guy's entire campaign was nothing but a "fairytale." Since then, black voters have said to Hillary and Bill in no uncertain terms: "We don't like you anymore, and we're not going to vote for you."

So, to paraphrase the great singer Roy Orbison, how do you say "it's 0-ver?" You could say "Parting is so much sorrow," but do you really want to resort to the actions of which you accuse Hillary and be dishonest.

You could, like the great African American poet Langston Hughes, ask rhetorically "What happens to a dream deferred" then answer dramatically, "Maybe it sags like a heavy load...Or does it explode?"

Perhaps you could opt for a more elegant, though bitter-sweet, transcendence and recite this poem by the great Palestinian poet Samih Al Qassim :

A s h e s

Don't you feel we have lost so much that our " great " love is now only words , that there's no more yearning , no urgency, no real joy in our hearts, and when we meet no wonder in our eyes?

Don't you feel our encounters are frozen ,
our kisses cold,
that we've lost the fervor of contact
and now merely exchange polite talk ?
Or we forget to meet at all
and tell false excuses . . .

Don't you feel that our brief hurried letters
lack feeling and spirit,
contain no whispers or dreams of love ,
that our responses are slow and burdened . . .

Don't you feel a world has tumbled down and another arisen ? That our end will be bitter and frightening because the end not fall on us suddenly but came from within


Like B.B. King, you could just start singing a song that, unfortunately, we African
Americans know all too well:

"The thrill is gone..."


SagaciousHillbilly said...

Or how about this one for Billary to sing. . .

Well you don't love me
and it's plain to see
that I'll be cryin, cryin, crying
what can I dooooo
I'm cryyyyyyyyyin
oooooverrrrr youuuuuuu.

Sorry Roy, I fudged the lyrics the best I could

MacDaddy said...

I love Orbison. Hey, I thought of you as I was writing this post. I know you're a blues lover. Blessings.

The Fire Next Time said...

Since we're in a poetic mood:

Obama was not my first choice.
It was Hill and Bill I knew so well.

Though Obama was black like me,
I hoped Hillary would give him hell.

Had Bill kept his mouth shut,
And surrogates had done the same,

I would still be trying to spell
Obama's strange sounding name.

No, everyone had to get in on the act,
To bury him with lies and deceit.

It reminded me of a lynching,
And scary guys wearin' sheets.

On the radio, TV, and the Internet
Obama's whole name was given.

His pastor words were used against him,
By pundits that seemed unnaturally driven.

Now that Hill's behind in the delegate count,
There's talk of her as a running mate.

Obama's got her on his short list,
But, for Hill, I think it's too little too late.

Anonymous said...

oh my, Macdaddy, you sound melancholy...troubles at home or just tired of it all?

jjbrock said...

How about this one If I could turn back the hands of time. She would have realize that we didn't belong to her.

MacDaddy said...

fire next time: I love the poem and your name-- the name of one of my favorite books, by my favorite writer. Keep writing.

MacDaddy said...

Anon: I think you hit on something. I do have a little sad for Hillary Clinton. After the disgusting behavior of her husband Bill, she had a chance to turn her life around and become a truly progressive politics: to really fight for workers, women, and people of color. Now, by reducing herself to speaking in racist codes, by pandering to the public, and by, frankly, giving Sen. McCain and Republicans ammunition against Obama in the general election, she has messed her political career. She's lost more than black votes; she's lost that intangible yet most valuable thing of all: integrity. Can she get it back? I don't think so.

Jim said...

no brotha I'm not speaking of hil's blues--judgin by that sad poem you wrote sounds like you be having blues in your own crib
blessings to you

MacDaddy said...

Jim: Welcome. As utilized in the post, the poem speaks to a torturous and sad ending to what was once a mostly positive relationship between the Clintons and black America. Since you missed it, I'll repeat that it was written by Quassim, a Palestinian poet who now lives in Canada. Visit again.

MacDaddy said...

jbrock: "If I could turn back the hands of time." Tyrone Davis. The leader of his band was Joe Young. They called him Mighty Joe Young, a very good rhythm and lead guitarist out of Chicago. Okay. I'm dating myself. Thanks.

SagaciousHillbilly said...

'Honeyboy' Edwards, Delta bluesman, outlasts them all
Just read this. . . .;_ylt=AghHMmV_b2AX_FddNTbUBsms0NUE

By CHRIS TALBOTT, Associated Press Writer
JACKSON, Miss. - With his 93rd birthday a month away, David "Honeyboy" Edwards admits it's getting hard to walk long distances.

I love this quote. . .

"Blues ain't never going anywhere," Edwards said. "It can get slow, but it ain't going nowhere. You play a lowdown dirty shame slow and lonesome, my mama dead, my papa across the sea I ain't dead but I'm just supposed to be blues. You can take that same blues, make it uptempo, a shuffle blues, that's what rock 'n' roll did with it. So blues ain't going nowhere. Ain't goin' nowhere."