In the year 2017, Donald Trump, (who will be referred to as Tangerine Toddler from this point on) became our President. And while those of us who were sane mourned the fact that he’d be our “leader” for the next four years, others of us were having meet and greets and taking pictures with him like he was our play cousin. To take it a step further, some of us even agreed to perform at his inaugaration. *enters Chrisette Michelle*
Tonight, President Obama will address the nation one last time in his much anticipated farewell speech. As I come to terms with what that really means, it’s hard to find solace. The reasons are a bit complicated, some of them easier to articulate than others, but all equally as hard to swallow. So as we prepare for what I know will be an emotional night, I’d like to reflect. I have more than a few things to say.
The great prophet Puff Daddy P. Diddy Sean Combs warned us back in 2009 of the b*tchassness epidemic sweeping the nation-unfortunately, none of us took him seriously. Almost a decade later, here we are, glued to our phones, watching Chris Brown and Soulja Boy threaten each other across the interwebs. In our defense, who among us could’ve ever predicted n*ggas would take it this far? We’re sorry, Puff.
Earlier this month, TIME magazine revealed they’d chosen President-elect Donald Trump as their 2016 ““Person of the Year.” And while I don’t think any of us were shocked, I think it’s safe to say that most of us were disgusted. We’d had enough of the Trump Train.
When I first saw advertisements for Almost Christmas, I gotta admit, I was excited, but not for the reasons I think most people were. Mostly, I was ready to see Mo’Nique get back on the silver screen, and I was equally glad that ol’ Danny Glover was still cashing those checks in Hollywood. Those two things alone were enough to spark my interest, but I just wasn’t sure if I was thrilled about seeing what I assumed would be another This Christmas.
I’ve decided I want to bow out. It was fun while it lasted. However, after careful review, I’ve concluded that The Woke Olympics just isn’t for me. I can’t compete. These carefully constructed tweets have me sweating at my desk on the regular, and baby, I’m tired. One slip of the finger, one well intentioned tweet gone bad, and just like that, the Woke community has turned their backs on you, and there you are, all alone-Un-woke.