You're Wrong
An Irregular Column
by Mykel Board
Mykel's Column for MRR # 357 (January)
"Democracy
today is just a polite term for highly developed totalitarianism,”
--Laibach
ELECTION DAY
2012: One of the many things I love about toilet stalls is that
you can close the door and be in your own world. You can experience
the joy of release... sometimes the double joy. I now stand
stall-pissing. Ridding myself of the morning coffee, with a touch of
last night's beer. My whole body relaxes as the yellowtude pours out
of me. Gas rumbles through my intestines. It too demands release.
Yes! That's the double joy... a standing pissing fart. The morning's
flatulence out with the morning's liquid. The gas bubble nudges
downwards as the yellow stream slows to a trickle. I tense my
abdomin... give it a final push... I'm already late for class... I
gotta hurry.
Uhhh, uhhh, ugggg,
whoops! It's not just gas that passes from my anal sphincter. A
turdball... grape-sized... escapes and rolls down into my boxers...
down the back of my leg... inside my knee... to my calf... to my
ankle where it lays trapped by my pantsleg stuck into my army boots.
Damn! I wish I were
a girl. Then, when I pissed, I'd be in the right position to aim
those turdballs directly into the toilet. Now I'm stuck. No time to
undo my boots and fish it out... and who knows what an extra mess
that'd make? I'll have to let it rest until after class. Then, I can
sit down and get rid of it... It's probably left a trail that'll need
cleaning up... Delightful!
Ah well, it's back
to class. I just hope I don't accidentally squash the turdball
against my ankle. Besides slopping up, it'll stink. The Japanese,
that means all my students, are extremely sensitive to smells. They
don't even like GOOD smells. They want NO smell. (There are
exceptions, but that's another column.)
Shit, it's not even
2PM and today's been hell. I tried to vote this morning... waited on
line (IN line, as they say in America) for an hour... got to the
front: “You're on the wrong line.... You're in the wrong
building...”
Fuck, I'll have to
come back during a break. I have to get to class....
When I do get to
school, I complain about being kicked out of the poling area.
“Hey,” says a
fellow-teacher.. a rabid Democrat, “that's not allowed. Governor
Cuomo issued an executive order. Anybody can vote anywhere... It's on
account of the hurricane.”
“Nobody told the
guys where I vote... didn't vote,” I say, now even MORE pissed off.
She shrugs.
So here I am... in
class... private... one-on-one... a turdball resting at the top of my
boot, against my ankle.
My student is
Takashi, an attractive young man from Osaka. His business casual
clothes limp what would be an oriental-induced erection. Good, I
don't need another pants problem.
Like my other
students, Takashi is fascinated by today's election. He doesn't
understand it, but it looks like fun.
“Are you a
Republican or a Democrat?” asks the young man.
“I'm neither,”
I tell him. “I hate 'em both.”
He looks puzzled.
“Then you're not
going to vote?” he asks. “I thought all Americans vote. It's like
football. Everybody has a team, right?”
“It IS like
football,” I tell him. “I hate football.”
[Aside: Do they
play THE RAMONES at football games? I honestly don't know. I hope
not.]
“Okay,” he
says, “then it's like baseball. You've got a team to support.”
“I support the
Green Party,” I tell him. “I'm going to vote for Jill Stein.”
“Who?”
I repeat the name
of my candidate of choice.
“Is that your
mother?” he asks.
After class, I run
back to vote again-- still with the turd in my pantsleg. This time
the line is shorter, but it moves slower than the singer in a junkie
band.
I finally get my
paper ballot: a long confusing list of names. I fill in the little
circle next to JILL STEIN. Then I fill in the rest of the
WORKING FAMILIES PARTY choices. I'm not much for WORKING anything,
but they have good taste in politics and-- except for supporting
Obama-- are the best of the bunch.
But wait a
minute... one of the working families guys is running for the SAME
OFFICE (Senator) as the Green Party guy. I marked 'em both... screwed
up the ballot... have to get a replacement. How the hell is some
uneducated shlub gonna do this? I've got a fuckin' Master's Degree
and I can't do it!
I bring the spoiled
ballot back to the desk.
“Can I have
another one?” I ask, handing over my mistake. “I fu... er... made
a mistake on this one.”
The pimply
adolescent whiteboy behind the table makes a tsk tsk sound as he
takes the paper. He looks at it, tsk tsks again, (isn't that
unconstitutional?) gets a folder, marks something on the ballot,
hands me another, and says, “This is your last chance.”
I walk to the metal
marking booths, open for the world-- at least for the TV cameras
which are EVERYWHERE-- to see. I carefully mark my choices and bring
it to the vote-counting scanner where a big Aunt Jemima blocks my
way.
“I'll take that,”
she says, “the machines aren't working right. I have to feed in the
ballots very slowly.”
She takes my ballot
and looks at it. She does not tsk tsk, but carefully inserts it into
the machine, looks at me, smiles, and says “Thank you citizen.”
I immediately like
her.
No time to chat.
It's back to school for two more classes, then home.
I need to call WCSB
at 10PM to record an interview. It's the second one in a week. The
first was with Blag, yeah that one... from the Dwarves. He wanted to
talk to me after the MRR no-column fiasco. He's got an internet radio
show called “Radio Like
You Want.” I don't even know if the show aired, but I was on
it.
Now, I'm talking
to... oh no! I forget his name. On Facebook, he's DRICORE. He has the
late night show on WCSB in Cleveland. He must be old because this is
the second interview he's done with me. The first was in 1997!
“Mykel,” he
asks, “have you voted?”
“You bet,” I
tell him, “and it wasn't easy.”
“From reading
your columns, I guess you voted for Jill Stein,” he says.
That's what I like:
a man who does his homework.
“You bet,” I
say. “You think she'll win?”
“Is your dick
gonna grow another three inches?” he doesn't ask. As a matter of
fact he doesn't say anything... at least not then. After a throat
clear, the conversation continues.
We talk more about
the election. He tries the Obama line about healthcare, jobs, I
donno. He wants me to be realistic. Sorry, I'm the
wrong guy for that job.
People need
employment because we've got a fucked up slave system that says work
or die. I hate that system. I can't say it's GOOD to put
people to work. Is it better that people work than die? Yeah, it's
better that I have a turd in my pantsleg than a mass of red ants...
but that turd is still a turd and I don't want it there.
The week before,
Blag asked me about my rejection of jail for “abusers.”
“What's the
alternative?” he asked. “We just let these violent people go and
do nothing?”
What the fuck? I
don't know the alternative. If someone says you can cure cancer by
nailing your nipple to the wall, should I let people do it because I
have no alternative? Because I can't cure cancer myself? I don't know
what the answer is, but I know what it ISN'T. Same with jobs,
abusers... and Obama.
What
it comes down to: Am I happy Obama won? No.
Even
a tinge that Romney won't be president for four years? No.
Even
a bit... selfishly... that the world will think SLIGHTLY better of
Americans because they re-elected a colored president? It will be
easier to travel than it was during Bush times. Okay, a TINY BIT...
selfishly... but that's it.
See
you in Suriname... or hell... whichever comes first
ENDNOTES:
[email subscribers (god@mykelboard.com)
or blog viewers (mykelsblog.blogspot.com/)
will get live links and a chance to post comments on the column. Your
zines, Cds/records, and... er... private
videos... can
and should be sent to me at: Mykel Board, POB 137, Prince Street
Station, New York NY 10012]
-->One of my
facebook friends sent me a YouTube
of a news report about a pizza delivery. A colored mother ordered a
Domino's pizza. On the bottom of the receipt was printed: Niggahs
don't tip. The woman complained. Domino's fired the driver who
wrote the comment. That's as far as the video goes. But that's not
far enough for me:
- How do we know what color the driver was? We don't. Black people are a lot more free in their speech than white people. And they know the difference between Nigger and Niggah. The news made this sound like a racist incident, but was it?
- Did Domino's settle to avoid a lawsuit? How much?
- Did the family tip? Do they now?
-->Voter base
dept: Ann Coulter said that Obama was campaigning with women's
rights activist Sandra Fluke because he "is so desperate to get
the base Democratic voter-- stupid single women-- to vote for him"
I ask, is Ann
Coulter married? If so, does that mean the Republican voter base is
stupid MARRIED women?
-->The Real
Entrepreneurs dept: The Progressive reports that the Republican
convention used the theme WE BUILT THIS to show how private
entrepreneurship trumps government action. The convention itself was
held at the Tampa Bay Times Forum, built with 62 percent government
funds.
-->So that's why
dept: On his radio show, Rush Limbaugh blamed a 10 percent
decline in penis size on feminism. Says Rush “it has to be the
feminazis, the chickification, and everything else.”
-->I'll tell
you when I get to the Middle dept: A study by Fairness
and Accuracy in Reporting found that of 10,489 election
campaign stories, only seventeen talked about poverty. I can't
remember hearing ONE. It was Middle Class this and Middle Class that.
As the Republicans move to take the vote away from the poor, I bet
we're gonna be hearing the word “poverty” even less in times to
come.
-->Speaking of
poverty dept: The National Federation of the Blind picketed
dozens of Goodwill stores demanding equal pay for the company's
disabled employees. The group says Goodwill has consistently paid
sub-minimum wages to disabled workers, sometimes as low as twenty-two
cents an hour. There goes my Chanukah shopping!
At least the
workers of Walmart are finally going on strike. It's about fuckin'
time! Black Friday too!!
I hope the store
doesn't pick up thousands of scabs who need a few bucks and will do
ANYTHING in for a job in Obamaland. Looks like Walmart's getting a
black eye for this. But you don't care. You'll be shopping there...
feeling like shit about it... but doing it anyway, right?
-->World Bully
Dept: As Israel is acting like big brother America: invading
other countries, mass murdering, destroying everything in a wide
path, I frantically look around for some Jews I can be proud of! I
found 'em! Rabbis for
Palestine! They seem to understand the problem best... and they
have the right answers.
On the other hand,
Israeli rabbis are shouting “Palestinians
to the Ovens!” Oy vey!
