DISCLAIMER: This is the beginning of a piece I started (and stopped) writing two years ago because I got sick of explaining my political views. I never finished this amateur manifesto and in fact barely put a dent into. As of now, I really don’t have a desire to complete it, but someday I probably will. So, why am I posting it if it is not finished? you may ask. Well, in the traditions of Jay Reatard and Bradford Cox, both of whom we greatly admire at KLYAM, I’m presenting unfinished, skeletal material instead of searching for a perfect final product… sorta. Kind of like the way they have released demos, so you can see the process of their art. In any case, enjoy.
I was born on July 15, 1990 during the Bush I Administration. Naturally, I paid no attention to this goon and steered clear from the political scene for my first few years. As the 90s rolled along we moved to a new groove with the Clinton Administration. During Billy’s first term in office I remained silent, but of course silence makes me sick, so I roared when round two began. With no particular ideology in mind, at the age of five I voiced support for the “populist” goofy bastard over another goofy bastard, whom appeared to state his name after every sentence. To me (based on coloring books and TV appearances) the Clinton team seemed secure for a sophomore session, whereas the menacing, fumbling Dole fucks could not cut the deal. To me, Clinton was “presidential,” an extremely peculiar word that only means something to you if you favor the showbiz over the real action. The only quality I looked for in a future prez was being “presidential.” It’s sad that at five I mastered the average adult voter’s methods of choosing their leader.
With Meet the Presidents Coloring Book being my top read, this great, big concept of being “presidential” completely consumed my political intake for my childhood years. As the title misinforms the young readers, we meet 40 phonies (it was a little bit old) and of these phonies, President John Fitzgerald Kennedy became my favorite phony. JFK made me want to become President of the United States of America! I fervently advised my family and friends that I would become President one day. I responded to “What I wanted to be when I grew up?” with “President.” My parents endorsed me, my brothers…. did not, but what else can you expect from siblings?
But, back to my boy JFK. He became my hero and instead of ameliorating any possible athletic skills, I instead read several of his biographies and anything else I could find on the man. Strangely, I never delved into any assassination theories, since I’m usually fascinated by that stuff, but that’s a whole other story. In 3rd grade, I dressed up as Mr. Kennedy, my idol, and briefly told the class and parents about my life, accomplishments, and untimely death… without any notes, a feat no other student matched!
During these wild and crazy years in my youth (1996-2000)…