Fall Guys: Ultimate Knockout is a game about momentum.
Kamala Harris, huh? That's the move? It's fine. I don't even care anymore. I was known to say it could literally be an Iron Maiden VP pick, the band or the torture device, doesn't matter, we rocking with that. And they went and tapped both.
I thought I used to know the devil as something to avoid, today the devil is just something on the board. I used to think voting an extension of the bread and circus, and still do, to some extent, but I'll be damned if it hasn't become a way to get to November one way or another. Like a Netflix series you can't stand but if you aren't watching it, what are you doing?
I never thought I would understand what Cypher was talking about with that steak. Still don't agree, but I get it.
Being raised in Nor-Cal we minorities were taught that DA Harris, now Senator Harris is the devil. Like one of those old west Sheriffs. If you were a young black man whose case fell on her desk it was a wrap. No soft sentence, no crime left behind. I was of two minds about it. I mean, the bay area in those days was a crime, for her, the fish were jumping in the boat. Criminals were doing their job well, why wouldn't she?
I ran across her once back in the day. It was some family event with the good side. Oh, by the way, for people that didn't grow up a certain way. Some black families, well, families in general, literally have a duality in the family.
A side of the family that hustles, and a side of the family that takes care of people and maintains order. And the crazy part, they both show up to the barbeque and eat and laugh without judging each other, knowing that one day they may be on polar opposite sides of an issue. Crazy right?
Anyway, it was the early 2000's, I was a twenty-something military indoctrinated idiot dragged to Alameda for some HBCU political function, and she had just become DA. I was at the snack table stuffing my face with crudites and she strikes up a conversation. Of course, I don't know who she is, don't care, and my internal routine begins, which is, receive smalltalk as an attack, uncontrollable armpit sweat, and the complete inability to control the rhythm or pitch of my voice.
It was a long time ago, but to my recollection, the conversation went like this:
DA Harris: How's the food?
Me (full mouth): *HRsmP*
DA Harris: Oh, well they tell me you are military, thank you for your service.
Me: *Shrug* It is what it is. Getting out soon.
DA Harris: Oh? Ever thought of joining the police force?
Me: No.
DA Harris: Why not? don't like cops?
Me: I like good cops, ain't met any around here.
DA Harris: *Laughs* Well maybe you can become the good cop you know.
Me (Reaching my Smalltalk limit): Maybe.
DA Harris: Well, it was nice to meet you. Also, you are hella handsome and buff.
Me: Calm down lady.
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I made the last part up but that was the gist. I didn't find out who she was until the ride home when I told the fam that some lady was hitting on me at the food table and they started yelling at me when I retold my version of the conversation.
I fell in love with the senator that day for many reasons, some of them having to do with her being very, very, veeery attractive. But most of all it was the way she carried herself. An Oakland girl with magnetic confidence and an earnestness that is hard to explain, you have to experience.
I'm proud I get the chance to vote for the best cop I know. Which ain't saying much, but still. But it's also bittersweet because the reality is an old fuckin' goofy and a hall monitor paladin are walking into the arena for a no-holds-barred pit fight where truth is nerfed and lies are buffed.
They made the choice that makes the most moral and politically strategic sense. That in and of itself proves beyond a shadow of a doubt that they have no fuckin idea what they are up against. Best of luck. All told, the true winner in this pick is Maya Rudolf. Can't be mad at that.
Anyway, rip tb rip tc rip tall-t. Love is wise, hatred is foolish. Get out there and do great things, also jobs.
