Azealia Banks, Swirlers & President Trump


When you make it a rule to date exclusively outside your race, you’ve made two other philosophical concessions by proxy:

  1.  You think that you’re in some way different or better than the rest of your race
  2. You accept the wholesale supremacy of the other race(s) that you’re interested in

And while the first concession is problematic because it rejects a premise that most sane people would argue publicly even if they don’t endorse privately; The Brotherhood of Man, the second concession is problematic because when basing a hierarchy solely on skin color, the individuality of anyone within the preferred skin color become negligible.

In other words, if you dig white men, as rapper Azealia Banks has gone on record as saying that she does, then the range in looks, character, words, works, and actions from an Adolf Hitler to a Zac Efron are not only unimportant, but totally indistinguishable.

In fact, one might take things a step further and argue that, as in Dave Chappelle’s brilliant sketch where he’s the blind Black Klan leader, the only way one of the preferred skin color could fall in estimation from their hierarchy, would be to date a not-same skin-colored person thereby making themselves, by some account, less.

So, circular logic firmly tongue in cheek, Woody Allen quoting Groucho Marks at the start of Annie Hall puts “Swirlers” or people that date exclusively outside their race in perfect perspective.

“I would never wanna belong to a club that would have somebody like me for a member.”

Or, in other, other words, you’d lose interest in them the minute they gained interest in you.

However, against the backdrop of being stuck in a relationship with a member of your own lousy group, you’d probably still take what you can get of your preferred skin.

Still, perhaps your highest attraction would remain for those that best exemplified your ideal.

Like I said, all else being equal, while not-your-color skin would be enough to make one “better”, every similarity to your own race that this preferred person shared would sink them further in your estimation.

Like, let’s say you’re Azealia Banks and you like white men. You probably don’t want them to like Hip Hop, not even yours. You probably don’t want them to dress like “wiggers”. You probably want them Ivy League and old money and you screw those types every time you can, but since you’re aware of and would yourself rabidly enforce the existing status quo, you reconcile yourself to accepting far less as a partner.

Enter Donald Trump.

Now, whatever criticisms you have of the man, he is white.

He is perhaps, right now, the whitest man on the planet.

He is rich, powerful, old, a bit bloated perhaps, but still ruggedly handsome, and running for President.

Even his political positions are “white” in the extreme, and not this neutered, multi-cultural, liberal, “We Are the World” bullshit that some of the other candidates are peddling.

He is, in short, the Azealia Banks’ of the world’s wet dream.

Can we blame her then for endorsing Trump for President, knowing full well what she’d rather do with him?

And here’s the wildest part; there’s a glimmer of a possibility that she might get her chance, if the entirely 2016 election comes down to one deciding vote.

And that one deciding vote is hers.

Would Trump do it, though?

I mean, you know the rumors are that the Clintons have actually killed people for political gain.

Could murder be any worse than fucking Azealia Banks?

About the Author

Dickie Bhee is a self-styled lunatic, a Renaissance showman, a Class A, Grade A buffoon, a nigga that believes in the greatness of Niggerhood a social gadfly and a genuine Man About Town. Also:

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