Autographed Letter Signed

A Mostly Center-Right Place For Those With Irritable Obama Syndrome and Diversity Fatigue

Understanding Chicago’s Democrat Stockholm Syndrome September 8, 2010

The psychological phenomenon of “Stockholm Syndrome” focuses on the strange tendency of a victim or captive to develop sympathetic feelings toward their captor–sometimes even enabling them as the case with publishing heiress Patty Hearst.  In 1974, Hearst was kidnapped by the Symbionese Liberation Army and subsequently aided them in robbery.   Because of the complicated relationship between identity politics and victimization, I argue that despite Chicago’s Mayor Richard M. Daley’s announcement yesterday, that he will indeed not seek re-election,  the city will not be free as many would hope but will instead elect another political captor.  Daley will be gone for good however the odds are excellent that the “Democratic Machine” politics will remain.

From the start of 2010, it was evident that “King Richard” as the mayor is dis-affectionately called,  was on a downturn.   Chicagoans learned in 2009 that they had lost their bid for the 2016 Olympics to Rio.  Even the star power of city heavy weights Michelle Obama and Oprah Winfrey could not help the city that boasted violent crime levels and an ousted Governor “Blago”.   Though Daley put everything from his political muscle to the stolen kitchen sink in the failed bid, he was expected like any hearty Irishman to rebound. To the contrary, he did not.  Chicago’s economy sank even lower than the morality of its politicians. Budget cuts, increased crime- 300 plus shootings in the month of July alone.  Even the highest court in our nation told Chicago that it was the weakest link concerning gun laws and the 2nd Amendment.  Rarely had King Richard ever been so politically battered and emotionally drained.  His wife Maggie Daley has been battling breast cancer for years, his foot soldiers – the Chicago police- were being killed – one right in front of the station with his own gun.  Daley had lost a good deal in the way of respect from his supporters when he told a journalist ‘If I Put This [gun] Up Your Butt, You’ll Find Out How Effective It Is’…  Yes it was definitely time for King Richard to step down from the sludge covered Chicago throne.

From this story in the Chicago Tribune:

Daley won’t run for record seventh election to be mayor

By Bob Secter
September 7, 2010

Richard M. Daley’s 21-year run as mayor will end next spring with the city broadly reshaped by his vision and unprecedented grip on power, but with his image as Chicago’s sure-handed leader increasingly challenged.

He stepped off the political stage in stunning fashion Tuesday, with the city in a time of great transition, years of recession taking its toll on his reputation as a shrewd manager, and money running out to keep Chicago moving forward.

The two Daleys. Left - Mayor Richard J. Daley who served from 1955 until his death in 1976. (Right) His son and current Chicago Mayor, Richard M. Daley who has been in office since 1989.

His rule was defined by bold strokes and secretiveness, traits that brought him his greatest successes but gradually undermined his effectiveness.

Daley leaves a legacy of broad accomplishments, such as Millennium Park and neighborhood revitalization. Other initiatives remain incomplete, such as the ongoing efforts to improve Chicago public schools and expand O’Hare International Airport.

Daley often spoke of how his passion for leading the city remained strong, so his decision to pull the plug led to questions about his underlying motivation.

Was it the fragile health of his wife, Maggie, who has been battling cancer for years? Was it the looming $600 million city budget deficit that could make running the city in the short term about as enjoyable as a root canal? Or was it the increasing un-restiveness of a once docile City Council emboldened by public outrage over the parking meter deal and other administration missteps?

Or, perhaps, it was the realization that his city may be suffering from Daley fatigue. He was elected to his sixth term in 2007 with 70 percent of the vote, yet a Tribune/WGN-TV poll in July found that just 31 percent of city voters said they wanted him elected to a seventh term while 53 percent said they did not.

For his part, Daley on Tuesday said the answer was none of the above, though he revealed very little about his thought process as he insisted he has been thinking about retiring for the last six months. He said he became increasingly comfortable with the idea in the last couple of weeks.

“It’s time, everybody is replaceable in life, no one is here forever,” Daley told reporters at a reception at the Chicago Cultural Center. “I knew it was my time. I was not afraid of any election … I don’t work on an election, I work on what to accomplish as an incumbent and I’ve done that for years.

“You know like anything else, it’s time, it’s personal, there wasn’t one reason at all and it’s hard for people to understand that and this was the best kept secret in Chicago.”

For all his longevity, the younger Daley remains a sometimes baffling study in contrasts — different in so many ways from his powerful father, Richard J. Daley, yet a chip off the old block in others.

To many, he has been the model of a progressive big city mayor, straddling the need for economic development with community inclusiveness in a diverse city. Yet others see him as a well-intentioned but sometimes inflexible autocrat who for most of his time in office ruled almost by fiat rather than consensus.

When he leaves office next spring, Daley’s tenure will surpass by several months that of his father, whose legacy as the last of the old-fashioned, iron-willed political bosses still hovers over the city…

As a side note, including the tenure of King Richard’s father, Mayor Richard J. Daley do you realize that that is 42 years of Daleys???? The article above, speaks of the Daley clan in romantic terms.  Chicago’s love affair with iron willed politics.  Have you ever seen this clip from the movie The Untouchables?

Sure you have.  Who hasn’t?  It was rather shocking for me to see that scene as a teenager in the Village Movie Theater.  My quarrel was not so much with why would someone kill someone in broad daylight view of his “colleagues” but rather, why would anyone continue to avow loyalty to a “team” in which its players could be clobbered to death without so much as a warning or hint from fellow players- particularly the captain.

They tell us that life imitates art…So tell me how different is the art of Chicago corruption in The Untouchables from this slice of real life depicting Mayor Richard M. Daley speaking to his teammates in a Chicago City Council meeting.

Courage? Principles?  Ha!!! Talk about the Divine Comedy or  Waiting for Godot!  In Chicago life does not imitate art. It mocks and shoots it in the head at point blank range then kicks it for good measure before keeping its mouth shut with duct tape. Take a close look at the woman to Daley’s right.  She is most likely hoping there is not a baseball bat under that table. And liberals say that 12 years of Bush was bad…Why would constituents continue to vote for someone that threatens them whenever he does not get his way? If you do not vote my way, the Chicago Transit Authority (CTA) will not pick up your constituents. They can get on a garbage truck. Okay…

Let’s be honest here.  Chicago politics is not just about the Daley dynasty. It is also about the dynasty of corruption and its citizens undying loyalty to Democrats.  Chicagoans have always distrusted the Democratic run political machine- can’t you tell?

Yes Mayor Daley is stepping down but the liberal delusion is still up and running.  Looking at the above evidence,  everyone should recognize that there never has been and obviously for whatever insane reasons cannot be any conservative in the mayor’s seat.  The voters will not take the perceived political risk- which is what exactly?   What could go so wrong if they do elect Republicans in a city that does nothing but pizza and hot dogs right?

Really, what is the worst that could happen if conservatives ruled in the city of liberals with no spine and big shoulders?  Maybe just maybe the sales tax of 9.75 %  will go down even further than the measly half cent, the Democrats rolled it back from 10.25%.  Maybe someone will actually help our failing public schools or allow more vouchers.  Maybe the citizens will have their gun rights restored so they can protect themselves from the criminals who do not seem to care about the gun laws.

Rarely has a Democrat in Chicago been successful at dealing with any of the aforementioned issues.  Not Daley I or II.  Not Governor Blagojevich. He was a better impeached governor and an especially inspirational figure in reality television.

Cartoon by Michael Ramirez

Not Jesse Jackson.  Not Arne Duncan.  Not Valerie Jarret.  In several cases,  these Democrats are the problem .  Jarrett is a slum lord and Duncan did nothing for the Chicago Public School system.  Which brings me to the biggest most ineffective Chicago Democrat- President Barack Obama.  He is the most seriously unqualified liberal of them all.  His record on fighting crime, poverty or corruption in Chicago— ZERO.

In reaction to Obama’s lackluster record in Chicago, I rewarded him by NOT giving him my vote during the 2008 presidential election.   Understand that my behavior was normal. Most Chicagoan failed their fellow Americans by not demonstrating the truth about Obama. If someone captures me and makes me suffer under their ineffective political regime, I do not vote for them in future elections- regardless of political party.  Some- those with political Stockholm Syndrome,  will forgive such local blunders as high taxes, high crime.  I do not.  I did not do it for Mitt Romney when he was my governor in Massachusetts nor did I do it for George W. Bush when he was my governor in Texas.  Neither man has nor ever will receive my vote for the United States Presidency.  This voting approach may be bottom up but it also applies to top down election decisions.

The burden of political responsibility lies with us all.  It is not just about what the politicians do.  It is about what we do in the voting booth.  Invariably, politicians play a crucial role in shaping our sociological destiny. Corruption, lost hope and lives are all ailments that have not changed much historically in Chicago- unless that change involves the problems growing worse with time.  I should know- I am a native.   You cannot have real hope or change without the determination to change the system. In Chicago there is an absence of that determination.  The slave is free but where do they go? they know nothing else. Yesterday’s Blago is today’s Rahm-bo.

That’s not change.  That’s just stupid.

There are Chicagoans who will rejoice at Mayor Richard’s recent announcement  in the blood covered streets but the shocking truth remains that their next mayor will be a Democrat and no better than the person who held them captive for nearly twenty-two years.

The jail door is locked tight and the key buried far beneath the earth in a place called hope.

Chicago students held an anti-violence rally in the Loop March 31, 2008 . Chicago Mayor Richard Daley and then Illinois Governor Rod Blagojevich joined the rally which was held to draw attention to the 21 students murdered in the city during the year

Autographed Letter Signed,

AFROCITY

Advertisements
 

Independence Nevermore:To Live Free and Die in the Not So Great Society July 4, 2010

Artist Faith Ringold Story Quilt

On this day, our country’s 234th birthday, the fate of my fellow African Americans weighs heavy on my mind. Like most summers in Chicago, this one entered the earth with a wave of violence. Brother against brother. Murder and destruction.  My best friend who is Caucasian caused a black man to be put in jail a little over a ago.   The Taste of Chicago was in its first day, Salt and Peppa was the opening act.  People were high on the heat of summer.  My friend was walking my dog for me.  That dog being a Dalmatian, became excited by all of the strange people and noise.  Sirens and raucous late June laughter coupled with a sensitive stomach from eating too much grass at Grant Park, caused the Dalmatian to bark at the strangers as she made her way to the hi-rise doorman building.

All it took was t  “Control your dog muthafucka!”  from a black man, for an argument to ensue. This caused angry words from my friend which led to the black man threatening to shoot my friend; which led to his arrest.

Just as I was rinsing off some fresh raspberries in the kitchen sink, my friend arrived in my apartment with the panting Dalmatian.  I was planning for a bowl of ice cream but no one seemed in the mood.

“BLACK PEOPLE!!!!!”  yelled my friend.  “Stupid (expletive)….(expletive)”

He threw the police report on the kitchen counter.  I grabbed the mint green flimsy duplicate copy paper.  Crumbled up, the carbon writing had smudged. I saw the words  “gun” and “dog” very clear.  I kept squinting at the Dalmatian. She was now lying on my sofa- something that she knows not to do.  Always causing a spot of trouble, I thought.

“Do you want to hear the rest of the whole story of my night from hell?” asked my friend who was still angry and breathing heavily.

Sure I wanted to hear the details.  I wanted to know why he made the statement that he did about black people however,  the atmosphere in the room was not one of safe waters.  A recap at this point would do nothing but advance an argument on race.  An argument that began downstairs in my vestibule and would end a friendship upstairs in my kitchen.

“No,”  I said.  “I am sleepy. “

My friend was disappointed and mumbled “But-“

I walked over to the door . “Goodnight,”  I said flatly.  “We will discuss the matter later.”

"When Blacks Take Over America"- Racist Com

I closed the front door, leaving my friend standing in the hallway. Returning to the stainless steel double sink, I began to hum a tune and finished rinsing my raspberries.

All was well again.

That did not just happen I kept telling myself.

But it did and it made me feel uncomfortable.  Not because of what my friend said but rather because I understood what he said.  The blacks in Chicago were getting on my nerves too.  Killings of young people shot over stupid, petty issues like boxes of two chicken dinners.  Women —ahem, excuse me correction- I mean GIRLS with violet blue weave  hair and fake neon pink nails, pushing one baby in a stroller, another on the side of their hip, and one in her womb.

One of the obvious questions that I ask myself is when will it all end.  These are the people that my mother thought would do better than the older generations.  In 1979 these kids were our future, now our future as African Americans is what I fear.

Yes, there are many successful African Americans today. Enough to give m friend a reason not to say the things that he did about his assailant.  Enough to make me not shudder every time I see a young black mother being cursed at by black man with his baggy pants falling down his legs in the streets.   Do we not dwell on the Colin Powells, the Michael Jordans,  Oprah Winfreys, Barack Obamas?

I do- having the pleasure of being in a room filled with African Americans PhD’s.  We chat up one another in our academic discourse while munching on Carr’s  water crackers and goat cheese.   Have you read such and such?  Did you see that great documentary on…  Our lives as African Americans in that insular, far away place called… Called what?  What is that place?  Freedom? Decency?  Civilization? Acclimation?   Assimilation?  Whatever that place is, it is shielding us from the battle that rages on right outside our chamber door. Yes, I just alluded to Edgar Allen Poe’s poem, The Raven.   I loathe that poem but it was one of my mother’s favorites.   Ravens are black and cold- menace to society.

Furthermore, ravens seem to symbolize impending doom.

My heart cannot be at rest in the company of black success narratives when there is a raven sitting just outside the window.   His eyes carry the images of youth violence, rape, welfare, robbery, gang warfare.

The Raven sits at the foot of my bed, resting on my 350 thread count Tracy Guild designer sheets.  The Raven is there when I see other blacks at Whole Foods market.  Look at all of the good African Americans following Michelle Obama’s advice. Eat organic parsnips, it is better for our kids.  But what about the blacks kids who are physically fit and kill with guns and knives?  No salt and battery will not cure what ails Black America.

The Raven keeps me up some nights wondering what could have been had we not sold ourselves out to the Great Society that the Democrats promised us.

“I’ll have those niggers voting Democratic for the next 200 years.”
– Lyndon B. Johnson

The Raven was at the Taste of Chicago last Thursday day night and so was I.

Firm in my belief that the festival was safe, I went to “The Taste”, purchased a roll of tickets, got guacamole and chips.  When you grow up in a place as tough as  Chicago, you acquire certain survival skills…Like sensing when people are packing and bullshit is about to start.  The Raven flew over and sat on my shoulder.  My chips looked good to him but not as good as the group of  backwards baseball capped young black thugs standing by Buckingham Fountain throwing up gang signs.

Stop being paranoid Afrocity, I thought.  Nervous white people grabbed their children. There were a lot of young black people and Mexicans out and…it was loud…and felt not quite right.  How does this collectivity of social ideologies interact? You have the people who are here for barbecued turkey legs (12 tickets) and the people who are cause trouble (ticket to jail).   Soon, my pursuit for an unbiased night of cultural interaction gave way to my instinct to survive.  Afrocity still had food tickets left but did not care as she exited Grant Park.  Once safe at home, I saw that my instincts were correct according to this article in the Chicago Tribune:

‘He just started swinging a knife,’ says boy stabbed near Taste

July 2, 2010

“He (the attacker) thought that the crowd was trying to jump on him and he just started swinging a knife,” Nuttall said of the knife-wielder.

As he was trying to pull his friend out of the way, Greenlee was stabbed in the lower back and fell over, Nuttall said. When Nuttall tried catching his toppling friend, Nuttall was stabbed in the forearm. The bleeding boys bolted for the Red Line subway station and headed south, where Greenlee’s mother was waiting for them at the 79th Street station.

From Chicago Tribune

When she saw her son and his grade school chum had been stabbed, Teresa Wilson became hysterical, more upset than either of the teenagers. Then the South Side mom became angry.

“I’m tired of Illinois, specifically of Chicago, period,” an exhausted Wilson said in a telephone interview this morning.

Wilson drove the teens to Little Company of Mary Hospital in Evergreen Park.

“I really (became) hysterical. Bobby was a little more calmer (than me), stronger. He was like ‘Mom, stop crying! Calm down, I’m okay,'” she recalled.

Both teens were treated and released with minor stab wounds. Wilson’s son was resting at home, recovering from a 2-inch laceration to his lower back.

Nuttall said the teens, who became friends at Joplin School on the city’s Southwest Side, had no idea who their attacker was, or what started the fight.

Relieved that their sons weren’t seriously injured, both mothers were still filled with regret.

“I shouldn’t have let me child (go),” Nuttall’s mother, Patricia said in a telephone interview. “I didn’t know it was going to be like this. This is downtown, all the security and police officers down there…I’m just glad my son didn’t get hurt worse,” she said.

Wilson, who returned to Chicago 10 years ago, said she’s seriously considering leaving again, believing the city has become overridden with crime.

“Anytime you think you’re going to an outing, you have to damn-near expect something to happen and it just makes no sense,” Wilson said.

Recognition is the first step towards healing.

You have to realize that there is a problem.

For the first time I will admit something to my readers.  While I did not vote for Barack Obama, I at least thought that the violence amongst those in the African American community would subside after his election.  I especially and desperately wanted this to be true for Chicago.  But like Edgar Allan Poe, the Raven is a realist.

Lyndon Johnson’s  “Great Society” may have equated short term gratification for blacks and long term benefits for Democrats.  But nevertheless, we signed up for it as a race.

I understand that.

Having a black president does not entail overnight brown-skin success stories.

I can understand that.

It does not eradicate every ounce of racism from country.

I can understand that…Asthe late Senator Robert Byrd so “eloquently” demonstrates here:

What I do not understand is why having a black president entailed the unraveling of any civilized state of “black Chicago.”

As I saw my people scattering about State Street with the policemen in riot gear.

I thought, is this what it has come to?  Another 1968?

Photo Chicago Tribune. Police in riot gear after Thursday's Taste of Chicago Fest

Another Los Angeles?  Is this what Crispus Attucks took a bullet for during the Boston Massacre?  So that blacks in America could go from that:

To this?

“Unfortunately the answer is YES,” quoth the Raven nevermore.

Autograph Letter Signed,

AFROCITY

 

Sunday Soliloquy: King Richard and the Chicken Hearted May 23, 2010

King Richard Daley II of Chicago, Illinois

Taking refuge in my apartment is how much of my summer will be spent.  When it comes to violence and murder, Chicago has definitely seen better days.  With the sexual revolution of the 1970’s came freedom in the bedroom but we raising our inhibitions in every other matter.

“There was a time that you could sleep all night in Lincoln Park under the stars,”  mother would say while shaking her head over some rape or murder that was reported.  “No one would bother us.  Kids could go trick or treating without checking for razors in their fruit. A stranger could give you a ride home.  Now look at what things have come to.”

Again, Chicago has seen better days.  Unlike myself, mother  did not have to worry about being shot by a drive by on a nice summer day.

Yes, better days indeed.

The same goes for the people the  citizens of Cook County elect to its highest office. Chicago has seen better leaders in its past.

Or has it?

On the evening of Monday December 20th, 1976, an emergency bulletin diverted my mother’s attention as she prepared my dinner in the kitchen. Our component set radio was tuned to ABC news in the living room where I was playing with my calico cat “Taco”. We had developed a game of chase the Fisher Price person. I would fling the piece across the linoleum – usually the father piece- I always abused him. The cat would chase him to some narrow corner and roll him about. The radio was of no concerned to me. It was only news and for some reason, mother loved to hear the news during the evening. She preferred to receive her daily dose of happenings by radio- as if we failed to possess a television. Never quite understood why she was like that but even at night, we would listen in the dark to old broadcasts of “The Shadow” or another station that played ghost stories.
“Listen and picture what they are describing in your mind,” she instructed.

I would nestle in bed and close my eyes.  Some nights, the stories were just as frightening as if they were on television.  Others, they would make me go to sleep.  I was indifferent.  I could take it by sight or sound.  But for my mother, something about the sound of the radio satisfied her.  She liked to create her own photo-journalistic pictures without help from the restraining eye of the media.

On December 20, 1976 she saw a powerful man- who was either loved or hated -dead on a sofa in his doctor’s office. Her vision needed no assistance. Just the sound words told the story.

I smelled smoke coming from the kitchen. Taco stopped playing with her captive toy.  Mother came running into the living room.  At first, I thought she was angry with me for not having changed out of my Catholic school uniform but once she kneeled down by the radio,  I realized that something bad must have occurred.

The gruff voice on the radio was saying that Richard J. Daley, our mayor, had died of a heart attack in his doctor’s office.  He had been in office since 1955–the year my brother was born which was a long time ago.  Chicago had lost its father.  He was 74.

Funeral for Chicago Mayor Richard J. Daley. Cardinal John Cody pictured Daley's widow Eleanor and her son Richard M. Daley. Chicago Tribune photo by Michael Budrys

This is a big deal, I thought to myself.  The mayor was the king of the city.  His name was on everything from garbage trucks to the big tall concrete apartment building where my cousin lived.  A sensation of excitement and fear could be heard in the announcer’s voice.  My mother was clearly shaken.   Chicago would never be the same ever again and depending upon through what lens one looked at things, that could be a good thing.   Daley’s death would herald the end  of the ” Chicago Machine“- a system of political patronage and corruption.  Dependency upon the machine would be a hard habit for Richard J. Daley’s chicken hearted cronies to break.

Though the impact of the mayor’s death upon my mother was not as directly felt as that of a Chicago politician, I could see that she was having a difficult time processing the tragedy.

“What will I do now?” she asked herself aloud.  “I was thinking of paying that old man down at the City Hall to let me sit for a test to be a caseworker.”

Mayor Richard J. Daley and his son Richard M. Daley- who would be the future mayor of Chicago

Mother had wanted to be a welfare caseworker for sometime.  She was convinced that you could only get jobs with the city and state if you knew or payed someone on the inside.  Often, her assessment was correct.  Nepotism was an essential component of the Chicago Machine.  It was about who you know and how much you paid them.  Feeding the machine was essential to your ability to rise in social stature on the waves of the mighty “big shoulders”.    Your job relied upon it as well as the schools that your children attended- particularly at the high school level.  A dramatic sum of cash was not easy for a mid-thirties single welfare mother to come up with.

The following Saturday was Christmas Day but for the city,  the death of its King burdened the normally happy day.  But for a child, there is very little that can ruin Christmas.  Gifts were opened at home and later we rode the bus to Grandmother’s house.  Upon entering, I could smell bay leaves and sage.  Grandmother was singing, which was not like her at all.

Somehow the  holiday was extra special for Grandma.  Our visit would later reveal that my mother’s concern about Daley’s death was not a meeting of the minds when it came to the reaction of her own mother.

“The machine is dead!!!”  Grandma exclaimed, laughing, chopping celery.   She did not have any teeth and had a gummy smile but it was still beautiful .  “I bet ol’ Daley is down there with Satan fit to be tied,”  she continued. “Fussing about ‘who gonna take my place?Lordy be’ “

“I feel sorry for his family,”  mother said taking her seat at the kitchen table. “Losing him during the holiday and all. What family wants to deal with that?”

Grandma twisted her lip and rolled her eyes,  “Hmphf!! That man is responsible for more dead men than anyone in the city.  Running ’round with mobsters, the likes of Sam Giancana, blockbusting.  I don’t feel one bit of sorry.”

Mayor Richard J. Daley overlooking Chicago

“I bet they gonna have to torch his name off every building in Chicago.”

Grandma saw the war against the infamous Machine as one that had been won.  The king was  dead, lying in state downtown.  His loyal subjects were powerless.  Without Daley, there would be no machine, no antagonism, no forced patronage.  No Irish blue collar thug bosses.

“The machine will never be dead,” mother injected. ” What makes you think that?”

“There are lots of folks that want things in this city to return to the honest way, ”  Grandma replied. ” No threats on your property taxes if you don’t vote how they say.  That is why I clean homes. I don’t want no part of those city jobs.”  Grandmother got up from the table and walked over to her backdoor which led to the porch where she kept vegetables in bins to stay cool.   She needed some potatoes and onions.  The porch was enclosed and adjoined by a flight of stairs to porch of her landlord Mr. Brown,who lived upstairs.

My mother followed her onto the porch and taunted, ” I bet your perfect landlord who works for the mayor ain’t feeling too good about his job.”

“SHHHHHH!”  Grandmother hissed. “Their door may be open.”

Mother continued by whispering “Mr. Brown is always out there ‘Vote for Daley’ -“

“Cause he has gots to,”  her mother whispered back.  “That is what you have to do when you get them city jobs. Campaign day an’ night for Daley and his peoples or they fire you like Mr. Watson.  Even when it comes to the President of United States you had to do what Mr. Mayor say. Vote for Kennedy.  Vote for Mr. Johnson.  Mr. McGovern.”

Being stubborn, my mother threw her hands and walked away from the porch, leaving the old woman standing there with a handful of potatoes.  She returned with a metal stockpot  and began taking the potatoes from Grandmother’s arms.   Each potato, one by one made a loud clang in the pot.

“Some people do what they have to do momma,”  she said.  She looked cross.  Her mother was often the source of her irritation.  She had abandoned her and her seven siblings to live with another man in sin.  Despite my grandfather being an abusive ass,  mother never quite forgave her mother for leaving her to raise her younger children.    “Isn’t that why you scrub the Jews floors?”

1974 photo of Mayor Richard J. Daley giving a press conference at City Hall taken by George Quinn

Now the Browns were a respectable black middle class family.  A complete family.  Father, mother, two sons, pet Siberian Husky.  No food stamps in that household.  They were Catholics, which was rare during that time in the West Side neighborhood.  Mr. Brown worked for the city of Chicago. Doing what I cannot exactly recall.  He was a black man with a job  who wore a three piece suit everyday and for my fatherless butt , that was all that mattered.

Mrs. Brown worked as a nurse at Illinois Masonic Hospital.  They owned a yellow Pinto, barbecued most weekends, and shopped at Sears – Roebuck Department Store.

I was insanely jealous of them but expressed my class envy rather positively by inserting myself into their lives at any given opportunity.  Running upstairs to knock on their door for nothing. When it opened , I would peek around them to see what sort of furniture they had.   This was about as close as I was going to get to a real complete black family.

Every moment with the Brown’s counted towards my “black middle class” patch.  A patch I wanted desperately to sew onto my history as if it were my very own life.

I watched them from the Viewmaster of my sagging self-esteem.  I could not stop looking at them.  They were fascinating because they were not me.

A Brown family backyard cookout was sure to get crashed by Afrocity.  I would plop in a lawn chair and sit there watching them eat until they offered me a hot dog.   Grandmother would come to the yard and rescue them after she noticed I had gone missing.

“Afrocity stop bothering the Brown’s,” she laughed with a tinge of embarrassment.

“Oh she’s no bother,”  Mrs. Brown lied.

Grandmother would steer me by my shoulders back into the house. That was not the end of it.  I would continue being psycho kid by gawking at them from porch window. Watching them eat, laugh, playing badminton the entire time they were in the yard until they retreated inside.

My perfect black family.

If they could have fit into my back pocket, I would have never washed my jeans.

Now grandmother’s portrayal of Mr. Brown as a city employee contradicted the image I had of him as a strong black man.  He sounded more like a slave to the white man’s machine.  Are all black men weaklings even when they do have a job?

Young Afrocity did not know any better but the Chicago Machine ate the balls of plenty of white men as well as Latinos and women. Chicago was no liberal’s haven.


The public librarians, court clerks,  dog catchers.   Even kids are not spared when you think about the role city politics plays in the control of crime and racial segregation/

My mother was correct. The machine never died.  It only went on a short hiatus until one day Richard J. Daley’s son Richard M.  would be king. Heir to the Chicago throne.

Chicago just couldn’t quit the Daley influence. Everywhere you look, the name is there again on buildings, signage. Burned in by years of sun and sub-zero temperatures, as if by blood oath:

HERE REIGNS KING RICHARD!  LONG LIVE THE MACHINE.

Pity those who question the machine, you may be told to stick a gun up your butt.  As King Richard instructed this reporter who addressed his highness about Chicago’s failing anti-gun policies.

Why Chicagoans?  Why do you continue to elect this man term after term?

(sigh)

Autographed Letter Signed,

AFROCITY

 

Sunday Soliloquy: The Nanny State Diaries May 2, 2010

A key argument advanced by my liberal friends is that Afrocity’s new found conservative voice is simply a phase.

Now that the “phase” has been going on for nearly two years, attempts to bring me back to the land of ass have been occurring more frequently.   This month alone I have been treated to at least four lunches where portraits of the “Chosen One” adorn the restaurant as I slowly sip my soup.  Conversations somehow digress from living room decor and skinny jeans to why Obama is making such progress as our president.   Depending on my mood and how much I value my friendship with the person, I either eat and smile silently with a few nods peppered here and there  OR  I softly offer my dissent.  Aside from the question of whether or not Obama has really improved the lives of Americans, in particular those who reside in Chicago there is no doubt that his supporters are begging to realize that he is NOT the greatest thing since Wonder Bread.

“Well hopefully, if Obama leaves office in 2017…”

(Snicker) Oooo, that was funny!

One disturbing confession was several friends of color admitting that they were Hillary Clinton fans until Obama challenged her during the Democratic Primary.

“I loved Hillary,”  one friend said. “In college I was in her fan club.  I voted for her as senator.”

Then comes the 10 months pregnant pause.  Friend picks at the Cobb Salad while never looking me in the eye.

“Then I heard Obama at a rally and just knew I had to vote for him,” she says with a huge toothy smile.

Curious and saddened,  I always have to press the matter and shoot back with “Why? What was it that made you turn your back–errr, um I mean change your mind and support Obama?”

“Well he was so inspiring and he just wanted to do everything to change our world.”

“And Hillary did not?”  I asked with a raised eyebrow.

Pause comes again. Friend eats more salad…”No,” crunching on lettuce while speaking. ” You know [Bill] Clinton  was da man!!  He was a superstar in my book but when Obama came it made me go WHOA.”

Well of course you went WHOA. You were stepping in Obama’s bullshit.  That is what I wanted to say and here is where I gets frustrated and cannot continue the conversation. Just tell the truth you know.  We are all black. Just say you felt conflicted because Obama was a black man.   My friend went into some story about John Lewis and how he actually cried because he could not choose between Hillary and Obama.  She  mentioned other prominent African Americans who were caught in the “Great Migration” from Clinton to Obama.  The blacks who chose to remain with Hillary were characterized as though we were some sort of maimed donkey who could not get up on all fours .  Something held us back.  Our allegiance was to a white family over this great black hope.  Driving Miss Hillary Daisy.

As she was speaking,  I looked outside the restaurant window.  There were some African American males standing on the street corner, pants falling down past their behinds.  Should be in school, I thought.  An image of Cynia Cole, a little 20 month old baby that was killed recently by a bullet meant for her father intruded into my mind.

From the Chicago Tribune:

Charges filed in shooting death of 20-month-old

April 24, 2010

A 21-year-old man has been charged with killing a 20-month-old girl sitting in a car Wednesday night with her father, who police said was the intended target.

Danzeal Finley, of the 700 block of East 92nd Street, was charged with murdering Cynia Cole, who was shot in the head about 11 p.m. Wednesday on the 600 block of East 92nd Place in the Burnside neighborhood. Cynia was sitting in the rear seat of the car with her father, Jerome Hendricks, and her two young sisters.

Photo from Chicago Tribune showing Cynia Cole, a 20 month old victim of relentless violence in Chicago.

Finley was ordered held without bond by judge Adam Bourgeois today. His next court date is Monday.

Finley turned himself in to police Thursday after Alberta Cole, the girl’s mother, said she recognized him and told police, who put out an alert for Finley. Finley was accompanied by Rev. James Meeks after Finley’s mother called the minister and state senator to make sure her son would be treated safely…

The night of the shooting, Hendricks, Cole and and their family — Cynia, known as Coco; her sisters Janiya, 4, and Amazing, 8 months, were on their way to the girls’ grandmother’s house after visiting Coco’s aunt when they stopped by a neighborhood house to buy some cigarettes, Hendricks said.

Cole waited on the porch for someone to open the door when she said a hooded gunman came running out of a gangway and  began firing at the car. She said she eased back onto the porch so the gunman wouldn’t know she was there, and when his hood fell recognized Finley from the neighborhood.

After the shooting, Hendricks took the girl out of her car seat and held her head in his arm as drove to his mother’s home around the corner. Once there, his mother, Cynthia Lyons, a nurse, applied pressure to the wound behind the girl’s ear until an ambulance arrived and took her to Comer Children’s Hospital, where she later died.

How was I to see the Obama “hopium” machine playing a role in the life of Cynia Cole?  Chicago is in the state of chaos. National Guards have been one possible solution as we are in fact a youth violence war zone.  Suddenly, the Obama outsider art paintings in the restaurant sickened me.  This man used these people but you know what?  They wanted to be used. All I ever heard about from my friends and family  was what “Obama will do for black people”.   “Now we will get what we deserve…our president is black like us. He knows what it is like to be down and black.”

Really? Living in Hawaii, attending private schools, law school at Harvard.  Hanging out in Indonesia. Sure, Obama really knows what it is like to be down and black because his experience so mirrors that of  those in inner-city Chicago.

If you say so bruthas and sistas.

This is the part where I attempt to elevate the discussion to a new entirely new level. One where our blackness does not play into our voting choices.”I supported Hillary Clinton in the primary,”  I admitted with a straight but thoughtful face. ” She was a candidate that reflected my values and that is how I voted.  It is not about what a candidate can do for me, not as a black person or a woman…The government should not have to do anything for us. We do for ourselves…That is why I am a conservative now.”

My friend continued to enjoy her salad.  I said my “peace”  (snark) but still felt somehow defeated.  Any effort expended here was a waste.  The historic moment was a good selling point for Barack Obama and it worked.  It cheated Hillary Clinton out of a nomination.  It cheated Sarah Palin out of becoming Vice President. Both  good women.  Both good people.  The historic moment did not give baby Cynia Cole a life and iconic moments of her own making.  She would never live to see a woman take oath of office.  She would never live to be a woman.

We were all bound and raped by the considerations of race, gender, and historic moments.  What some Democrats have already noted in respect to Obama’s broken promises, are played out in Chicago’s streets as an African American saga.  How does one get over being raped?  Again the dream deferred simply explodes.  It gets angry and apparently it kills.

Autographed Letter Signed,

AFROCITY

 

Sunday Soliloquy: In the Heat of the Night April 4, 2010

It is never really one place or one time that I think about how lucky I am to be alive…How lucky we all are.

My mother always taught me that life is a gift, something that we should respect. Since childhood, the Easter holiday has been special to me.

Mother and I would always buy jelly beans and Paas Easter Kits.  Off to Marshall Fields department store we would go to purchase a nice outfit for myself, complete with a flowerful purse, lace gloves and a bonnet.

Would the cruel Chicago weather subside to allow the use of these holy garments? Ah! It did not matter. Even if it were 45 degrees, young Afrocity would dress to the hilt on Easter, patent leather white Mary Jane shoes and all – freezing her cottontail off.

Mother would shake her head in disapproval,

“You just had to wear that outfit didn’t you? Look at how foolish you look in those lace bobby socks shaking like a leaf.”

Who cared if my body temperature was that of an icicle! I was stylin’ and honoring the day that Christ rose from the dead.  Jesus wanted me to look my best. Later on Easter night, we would watch The Ten Commandments.  My favorite part was God’s powerful voice:

“THOU SHALT NOT KILL.”

Spiritual salvage is all about reusing lessons of the past but today, I am a far cry from that little Easter girl.  There is no clove scented ham baking in the oven or failed attempts at blowing eggs to make Ukrainian style decorations (that was a passing childhood obsession that drove my mother crazy).  Instead just me and my boxes in my new apartment.  Tired and sore from lifting.  Not a chocolate bunny in sight, only empty pizza boxes and bubble wrap.

I have never missed my mother more than today.

Unlike Jesus, she is not coming back from the dead.  This was made more evident when I opened the box containing her ashes.  Moved from one apartment to another just like my china.  With a deep sigh, I placed the box in a credenza cabinet.  The only thing that would be resurrected was my yearning for the past.  When life was simpler.  When I could recognize my country.

During my unpacking frenzy, I was able to sneak in an internet break or two and catch the daily happenings.  One unfortunate event in Chicago caught my eye, it seems my fair city is getting some much needed practice in before Obamacare goes into full effect.  This year, the Chicago weather ignored the trend of freezing off the cute Easter bonnets.

Once April hit, the Windy City was boasting temperatures that climbed into the low 80’s…and a murder rate that climbed into the 40’s in just two days.   While warm weather devotees rejoice over the Easter holiday and peel off the winter clothing, Chicago’s youth are hatching out of hibernation with knives and guns.

From the Chicago Sun Times:

Brazen shooting just blocks from top cop

Weis was speaking about recent crime wave in which 41 were shot

April 3, 2010

BY ART GOLAB

After 26 hours of violence that left 41 people shot and four dead, Police Supt. Jody Weis called a press conference Friday afternoon in the Englewood neighborhood — the site of three of the shootings.

But just as the press event ended, Weis had to cut short an interview because of a report of shots fired just blocks away.

It turned out a 25-year-old man was shot at 69th and Paulina and taken to the hospital in critical condition.

Weis had just announced a series of police responses to the warm-weather crime wave, including a crackdown on what he called “large gatherings, illegal parties and large house parties.”

It was a house party that got out of control that led to three separate shootings and one death in the Englewood neighborhood, Weis said.

Weis said problem parties often occur in vacant or abandoned buildings, and he appealed to the public to alert police to such happenings.

“These unauthorized parties often involve underage drinking, little or no security and are held in unlicensed locations,” Weis said. “They are simply not equipped to handle large crowds. They are a disaster waiting to happen.”

Police will also step up enforcement of curfew violations, increase foot and tactical unit patrols in targeted areas and focus on bars and other “problem establishments” that generate more than their share of 911 calls.

“These places are madhouses of criminal activity and tie down precious resources which could be deployed fighting crime,” Weis said.

The 41 people shot between the end of Wednesday and 2 a.m. Friday included four people who were wounded outside the Magnolia nightclub near 122nd and Halsted, Weis said.

Other shooting sites included Bronzeville, Grand Crossing and South Shore. During one especially violent stretch, 16 people were shot in a little more than two hours.

Among those was a woman who said she was shot in the arm in Millennium Park about 12:30 a.m., but did not report it until she was treated in a Melrose Park hospital. Police have questioned where the shooting happened.

Weis noted that the second Englewood shooting occurred despite the immediate presence of three dozen heavily armed and uniformed police officers.

It shows the complete brazen lack of respect for authority.” Weis said. “The question that I have to ask is, what would they do when we’re not here?”

Ahem,  excuse me Officer Weis who uttered “…It shows the complete brazen lack of respect for authority.”   Don’t you think that is an understatement?  The Chicago Police Department have gotten into the bad habit of thinking they are holding the remote control for Chicago’s violence.   When you find black on black crime- and this is what it is.  I am not about to parse this as a Chicago wide problem.  It is about African Americans and Latinos killing each other while Louis Farrakhan is worried about some conservative nut job killing President Obama.

The Tea Partiers are not the problem in America.  Obamacare will never put a Band Aid on what is going on in Chicago.

Louis Farrakhan, Barack Obama, William Ayers, Father Pfleger,  Valorie Jarret are all opportunistic parasites on Chicago’s African American community.  These are not community leaders.  Chicago murders and youth violence is plentiful in supply, more abundantly so since Obama’s election.   The hot trend at the moment lies not in the weather but in a surprisingly brazen lack of respect for LIFE in the black community.  A surprisingly brazen  lack of hope after the chosen one resurrected “black pride” from the dead.

Rather than enjoying the Easter weekend outside in the 70 degree weather, I stayed in and unpacked.  A little spider crawled on the widow sill as I opened a box of knick knacks. Annoyed, I began to swat him with an old Vogue magazine then I remembered God’s loud voice.

“THOU SHALT NOT KILL”

Stopped dead in the rolled up magazine’s tracks, I calmly searched through boxes for my Dust Buster.  In the spider went, vacuumed and alive.  It was good for the little creature to be outside I thought as I emptied the filter and he crawled onto my patio.

“Use your imagination, ” the black kids were told. “Now even YOU can be President of the United States.”

Sure they can ..If they can only hope to have a much of a fighting chance for life as a spider.

Autographed Letter Signed,

AFROCITY

 

Sunday Soliloquy: Fireside Chat with Afrocity of the Wayward 10 Percent February 21, 2010

At my most generous, I tend to craft my topics for Sunday Soliloquy with an eye toward sharing some aspect of my past with the dilemmas of my political and social present.  This week, I am not so sure I will do a good job.  The last several days have been all about myself and other black people arguing about my not being a Democrat.  Yep, race again and and again and again.

Liberal Democrat, African American Male:

“…The African-American snobs are the asswipes constantly taking shots at the president so they could get kudos from the real elite. The rich white man!… [Afrocity] Don’t be fooled by the constant head pats that you are getting from these white boys. They get off on black self hate and you are only feeding in to it. It’s truly embarrassing sister…You are on the other hand a disgrace to the “Afrocity” name that you adopted for yourself. You should change it to Eurocity or wannabe Eurocity…While I think they are both retarded it’s your right.

What I take umbrage with is the manner in which a mere 10 percent of black folks feel the need to take shots at the 90 percent that don’t think and act like them. We are either elitist or lower class. No in-between. Only black people that don’t know black people think like that.

Your verbiage is not even your own. It’s that of white folks who are equally as ignorant to black culture therefore you are a blind person being lead by a Seeing Eye dog with no vision. Your posts are disgusting to everyone outside of those with a racist mentality….I will have to think of one to label you and the rest of the wayward 10 percent.”

Ooops.  I’ ve gone and lost my blackness again.  Where did it go? I am a racist too.  Now, according to this brutha, I can no longer call myself Afrocity.  The statement above is self-explanatory when it comes to illustrating how African Americans place restrictions on one another in terms of political freedom.  On the blackness radar, the bias is in favor of black Democrats. Anything else, is an imitation.

We are coming out of the worst presidency of possibly all time who was a conservative. You really have NO moral ground to stand on and criticize or teach (LOL). You should instead criticize and teach the folks who thought it was prudent to give Bush another 4 years. I don’t credit any ideology for black success and I don’t place blame on any ideology for black failure. I’m free and independent in my thoughts and actions so when you talk that liberals this and liberals that you lose me and only prove that you live in a box. I am big enough to know that all people have good and bad ideas and good and bad intentions. And don’t misunderstand my disdain for the manner in which Afrocity and other mis guided black folks diss black America for hate.

When have I ever said that I hated black America? And when did I ever say that I voted for George W. Bush? I did not either time.  I abstained from voting in the 2004 election because I found Bush and Kerry both unfitting for the job.

It always amazes me how liberals derive such pleasure in being anti-racist and inclusive of all viewpoints, yet they are shockingly narrow minded when it comes to tolerating others.  Admit that I am pro-choice among conservatives and we will have a discussion.  Admit that I voted for McCain in a room full of liberals and I become target practice for name calling. Within an eye’s blink I became the guy who shot Dr. Tiller and a KKK member all rolled into one.

Female Black Obama supporter:

Even American Jews vote Democrat Lawd!. Who wants to be insulted because of race or religion? Today’s Democrats are your 1960s Republicans and todays Republicans are your 1960s Southern Dixiecrats RACISTS. They are almost becoming the Whig party because they cannot articulate any clear message and minorities they dislike do not trust them either…Finally it is erroneous to link Black failures to liberal cities whatever that is, without mentioning events such as crack cocaine that began under Reagan; dumping of guns in Black ghettos as a means to dispose war weapons but also create unruliness; high incarceration of Black men that began in the 80s (Reagan); etc…Afrocity your question about what have Democrats done for Black people is like asking what have Republicans done for White people. I am not following your reasoning or logic. Black people do not like Republicans because of the Southern Strategy and embracing racist elements boldly, and Neither do Jews because of their religion and anti-Jewish behavior by religious right Christians…White poor Republicans blame minorities for not succeeding i.e. affirmative action, anti immigration. It is easier to find a “boogey man” for your problems. Unfortunately politically civil rights and those that opposed truly believe it is the cause of their problems lol!. …

There was so much there.  Where to begin?  My critic’s statement implies that Democrats cannot be racists, or sexist or anti-Semitic.  Remember Jesse Jackson and his 1984 “Hymietown” comment?  Remember what the Democrats did to Hillary Clinton when she ran against Barack Obama?  Remember when the liberal feminists rallied behind Bill Clinton during the Monica Lewinsky scandal? Any woman became a bimbo, Hillary Clinton was a racist. Blacks could say derogatory things about Jews and whites…and get away with it.

Black conservatives live routinely with having their racial loyalty called into question.  As an aside, I really could not care less about who other blacks vote for.  If 90% are Democrats so be it.  The same goes for Jewish Democrats.  What does my critic’s statement allude to?  That blacks should support the Democratic Party because  Jews do… and blacks and Jews are alike because????

Fine, I will take my hits from African Americans. But do not think that my being a black Republican,  erases my past as a black Democrat.

Clearly I remember being called a “black bitch” by my Bill Clinton loving college friend.   If we want to focus on racism and sexism and wrong doings against protected classes, it is ignorant and unproductive to only look at people in one political party.

Take Amy Bishop, the  University of Alabama professor who shot her fellow colleagues to death.  Did you know that most of her victims  were all of  minorities?  People of color, and she was reportedly an Obama supporter.  Obsessed with Barry, a Kool Aid Snorter.  So does that make her untarnished when it comes to accusations of racism?  Or was she just crazy?

The possibility of  Dr. Bishop being a racist never surfaced. She supported Obama so how could she be racist?   However Afrocity is self loathing and anti-black racist .  The mainstream media gave Dr. Bishop a pass as they were all too busy in their attempt to create a Tea Bagger out of Mr. I flew a plane into an IRS office Stack” .

My questions concerning the Democrats considerable achievements in regards to advancing Black Americans especially urban dwellers are quite harmless.  I was born and raised in Chicago, a liberal haven.  We experienced white flight here, redlining, blockbusting, youth violence.  Why?  This city has been run by Democrats for generations.  I see virtually little if any significant improvement in the socio-economic patterns of African Americans in this city or Detroit which is also ruled by Democrats.

I simply posited that Chicago may be a model for looking at how liberals have all of the power, yet no control over the situation of violence and poverty, despair that many protected classes experience here.

Ronald Reagan never drove me to do crack or hold a gun.   I never saw a corner store robbed because some pitiful urban youth felt the burden of white rich Republicans willing him to be unsuccessful.  If liberals rule Chicago, then why is it so unsuccessful at doing what liberals claim to do best, which is uplifting the underdog?

I am more than willing to enter a substantive dialog with my fellow African Americans about the behaviors and motivations behind each political party- even the Tea Party.  However,  until the every Republican is a racist  and every black conservative is an Uncle Tom meme is dropped, we cannot continue.

Autographed Letter Signed,

AFROCITY

 

Sunday Soliloquy: Chicago and the Etymology of “Bottom Bitch” January 31, 2010

On a bitter cold winter day like today, it may be plausible to offer excuses for not visiting Chicago.  However if there are very important gubernatorial and senate races going on, especially a race in which the best supporters during your presidential campaign are candidates.

One would think that President Barack Obama could at least make an appearance in the Windy City rather than cast absentee ballots for his 2008 presidential campaign vote whores. Quinn, Blago, Giannoulias…these guys worked the streets hard for pimp daddy Barry O.

When he became president, many Chicagoans believed it was highly probable that Obama would follow in the steps of his predecessor George W. Bush by  visiting his hometown often.  No such luck.

A year into his presidency, there is little presence of Obama in Chicago beyond faded HOPE posters and his empty home  in the Hyde Park neighborhood guarded by several police cars.

From this article in the Chicago Tribune

It hasn’t exactly been sweet home Chicago in Obama’s first year

By Bob Secter

January 18, 2010

…Chicagoans may fancy themselves an unsentimental, nose-to-the-grindstone lot, but folks in Obama’s adoptive hometown indulged in a wave of parochial euphoria with his election. The huge, election night rally in Grant Park was electric with possibilities, not the least of which was the notion that Chicago would be transformed into the nation’s unofficial second capital and reap a big payoff in both stature and dollars.

Even the typically measured Obama appeared to get carried away when he told the Tribune that he hoped to return home every couple of months and considered the South Side his “Kennebunkport,” an allusion to the Maine family compound of President George H.W. Bush.

In hindsight, there was wishful thinking all around. As the nation marks the anniversary of the first Chicago president’s

  • Obama’s political magic hasn’t kept the state from suffering through a recession like everybody else, and the state and city governments are drowning in red ink.
  • Chicago’s high-profile bid for the 2016 Olympics went down in flames despite Obama’s personal intervention.
  • To some, the scandal-marred transfer of Obama’s U.S. Senate seat to Roland Burris may be the most lopsided Chicago trade since Lou Brock for Ernie Broglio.
  • It’s not that presidents can’t have a palpable impact on their home bases.

Springfield has built a thriving tourist industry around Abraham Lincoln. Tiny Crawford, Texas, got a huge economic shot in the arm whenever President George W. Bush showed up at his Prairie Chapel Ranch for a lengthy stay with an entourage of aides, security personnel, media and onlookers.

Hmmm, sure doesn't look like Chicago to me.

But Chicago is a far cry from Crawford; Plains, Ga., ( Jimmy Carter); or even Little Rock, Ark., ( Bill Clinton). Sizing up what it means for a modern president to hail from an already bustling commercial and cultural center is a more challenging task.

“At the very least, it will become part of the keepsake box of the city, like having Oprah in town or being home to the 1893 World’s Fair,” said Chris Mooney, a political scientist at the University of Illinois’ Springfield campus. “Every big city needs to be noticed now and then. Even if you’re already the prom queen, it’s nice to be complimented.”

Chris Mooney has it wrong. Chicago is not a prom queen at Obama’s ball.   It is a bottom bitch- nothing more, nothing less.

Others are beginning to see that this great city, which brought forth our nation’s first African American president is nothing more than one of Barack Obama’s “bottom bitches”.  Pimped out and left behind.

What is a ” bottom bitch” you may ask?  Why does Afrocity continue to use this seemingly derogatory term?

I can just feel the feminist  blogosphere (no pun intended) tense up.

What is wrong with Afrocity?  She knows that we never say “bitch”.   But this is reality and I did say the “B-word”, particularly the “double B-term” –bottom bitch.

Several years ago I first heard of a bottom bitch while watching the 2005 movie Hustle and Flow featuring actor Terrence Howard as “Djay”.  Djay was a pimp desperately striving to make something of himself by laughing a successful hit wrap song while keeping his hoes in line.  In one memorable scene Djay refers to one of his best hoes as a bottom bitch after she comes through for him during a frustrating moment when she presents him with a lava lamp to brighten his recording space.

Although the Youtube clip leaves out the bottom bitch term, I wanted you to actually see the scene to in order to create context and mood.  Here is Djay’s exact quote:

“That’s a bottom bitch for you. I mean, we got everything we need right here. And all this stuff in this… this little-bitty space, man, it just looks so much bigger now. I’m here trying to squeeze a dollar out of a dime, and I ain’t even got a cent, man.”

I was actually embarrassed at my reaction to the term.  I was almost touched when Djay uttered those words.  A bottom bitch is someone you can count on the most. Your main bitch.  He or she brings home the goods no matter what you do or say to her.  This is your main hoe who works the streets for you day and night.

Bottom bitches come in all shapes, sizes and botox enhanced forms. In this photo, it is really hard to tell who excatly the bottom bitch is.

For another take on bottom bitches, I  also will let the nice kids of South Park explain that for you. In one episode Butters decides to become a pimp and takes a bottom bitch:

Again,  here we see as with the Hustle and Flow definition,  that a bottom bitch is the Rock of Gibraltar when it comes to your hoes.

However, that does not necessarily translate into a mutually beneficial relationship for the bottom bitch.  Chicago more than any other piece of politically expedient ass in Barack Obama’s life is learning the downside when it comes to being bestowed the coveted presidential bottom bitch title.

Continuing from the Tribune article:

If anything qualifies as Obama-inspired local pork, it could be the administration’s decision to buy the empty Thomson prison in northwestern Illinois as a holding tank for terror suspects now detained at Guantanamo Bay. Obama was likely aware of the prison’s availability because he was a member of the Illinois Senate in 2002 when state officials, in a cost-cutting move, decided not to open the just completed facility.

Wow Obama!!! Thanks for those Gitmo detainees Barry! You sure know how to show the folks back in your home state some love.

In short, Chicago and the State Of Illinois, is still in the state of pre-hope and post-change.

Black on black crime is still a general trend in the city since Obama’s election.  Scandalous cell phone videos of youths beating each other to death and failure to secure the 2016 Olympics, did nothing for the image of Chicago.  Images of Michelle Obama in he red and black Narcisso Rodriguez election night dress are eclipsed by the blood of Derrion Albert’s beating last September.   The premise of Obama’s hope and change message has somehow escaped the boundaries of Chicago.  The process has somehow been retarded by a collective feeling of hopelessness and despair.

Obama has forgotten about his Windy City  bottom bitch as he is  circling the globe making the rounds of with his lesser  geographic hoes.  Feeling up the electoral vote abundant tits and ass of Ohio and Pennsylvania.  Dining in France.  Ipod trading in Great Britain. Bowing to and fro and golfing under the Hawaiian sun.

Chicago got the shaft.

The second President Bush was famous for his long, extended trips to Crawford, but Obama in his first year has been to Scandinavia (two trips to Copenhagen, one to Oslo) as often as Chicago.

Shortly after the inauguration last January, the Obama family returned to their Kenwood home for a long Valentine’s weekend. The family hasn’t been back since, though the president returned to Chicago in June to speak at a medical conference and in July for a political fundraiser. On neither occasion did he stay the night.


To be sure, there is an upside in Chicago to having Obama stay away. Presidential motorcades often create monumental traffic tie-ups. The security cordon around the Obama home for that Valentine’s weekend visit extended for a three-block radius.

Jack Cella, general manager of the Seminary Co-op Bookstores around the University of Chicago campus where Obama once taught law, said that for much of last year, the neighborhood was crawling with reporters from around the world, as well as tourists and curiosity seekers. That activity has slowed in the winter months, and it’s not clear if it will resume with warmer weather.

Not long ago, it was common to see the Obamas wandering the neighborhood, but residents are by no means put out about them now staying away, Cella said.

“We’ve still got as much enthusiasm as ever,” he said. “There is still real admiration and affection for the first family. It would be nice to see him, but people realize he’s got an awful lot to [do].”

Of course he won’t stay the night silly Chicago.  You are a bottom bitch. Was he ever home when he was the senator from Illinois?  No, he played you.   Obama will see you again in 2011, when he needs you and you will still be there waiting for him with open arms and legs raising the dead so they can re-elect him.  Stop checking. There is no text message for you today. May as well go back to dusting those Barry bobble heads and using those CHICAGO 2016 poster to keep the fireplace going until your pager blows up.

Congratulations Chicago. You are now an etymological inspirator of bottom bitches to come.

Autographed Letter Signed,

AFROCITY