Gravity Rush 2 is a ton of fun

I’ve got nothing new to complain about this morning. It’s an odd feeling. Is this how the Undertaker felt when Brock Lesnar conquered his Wrestlemania streak?

So let’s blow some positive smoke up a good thing’s ass. I finally found a video game that’s taking serious time away from my beloved Destiny. Don’t worry, boo. I’ll be back. She and I are just going on a little business trip. Platonically. I swear. Same room, separate beds. No! Babe! Don’t walk out!

As you probably don’t know because nobody outside of my immediate family actually owns a Vita, Gravity Rush stars a spunky heroine named Kat and her magic feline pal that helps her manipulate gravity, primarily so she can fling herself across the sky or walk along walls and ceilings. It was a fun but occasionally gimmicky thing designed to take advantage of the Vita’s motion sensors and rear touchpad (HA HA “rear touchpad”). When it worked, it was great; when the wonky camera or imprecise combat got in the way, it couldn’t have been more frustrating.

The sequel (available now on Playstation 4!) has fixed all of the original’s problems. The camera’s smooth and smart and a forgiving targeting system makes combat a breeze. Using Kat’s powers to hurl random objects at enemies or missile dropkick them in the face is bad ass. Few things in gaming are more fun than recklessly dropping her off a building, catching her, and then launching her off toward the next waypoint or pack of power ups. Big, beautifully designed worlds provide plenty of space to watch her fly.

At its heart, Gravity Rush is a super hero comic book rendered in video game form. The story is told primarily via static screens styled like comic book panels. Spoken dialogue is rare and reserved for character names or emotional outbursts. It feels like a series of smaller stories rather than a single big epic. Kat uses her powers to help everyone she meets, although that sometimes gets her into trouble. Her legitimate goodness is a breath of fresh air in a medium that often seems stuck on 90s-style brooding antiheroes with just so much pain, man. The plot’s nothing special, but it works well enough and it doesn’t get in the way of the gameplay.

Insert a generic comment about how we need positive, uplifting forms of entertainment in our current climate of negativity. Dumb jokes aside, Gravity Rush 2 more than does the job.

(I am a little concerned about Kat’s cat, though. His spectral, space-y look makes me suspect he’s Taken, which makes Kat an unwitting servant of Oryx and…oh god, I play waaaaaaay too much Destiny.)

Regulate this

Yesterday, President the Donald signed an executive order mandating that for every new regulation put in place two regulations must be revoked. Yeah, I shit you not.

Regulation is neither an inherent negative nor an inherent positive. Like so many other things, it’s all about how you use it (yes, random Republican who will never admit to his friends that he reads me everyday, like a gun—we’ll get into that another time). The devil’s in the details. Yes, regulation can stifle industry, but it also protects consumers, workers, and the environment, and it establishes a framework for conducting business fairly. It’s a balancing act, to be sure.

“But Scott Colby!” you say. “Won’t the free market regulate itself? Can’t workers who aren’t treated well just go work somewhere else? Can’t consumers wronged by a business just take their money elsewhere?” In theory, sure! In reality…well, how’s any of that work in a poor town where there’s only one factory, or where Wal-Mart’s crushed all the surrounding businesses? People need jobs and they need stuff. The wealth gap and the concentration of economic power into giant conglomerates has destroyed any ability the market might have had to regulate itself. Personally, I believe evidence suggests the infamous Invisible Hand economists like to talk about is attached to a raving drunkard tumbling wildly down a flight of stairs. He’s farting a lot too.

One of my biggest issues with President the Donald and large swathes of the Republican platform is the way they take complicated problems and boil them down to meaningless little piles of nothing. Immigration, terrorism, foreign relations, the economy, and security are all extremely complex concepts. You don’t stop illegal immigration just by building a wall. You don’t stop terrorism just by telling the citizens of seven countries they can’t come in. You don’t build a strong economy just by stripping away rules that inhibit business. Every move you make comes with an amazing list of corresponding consequences that don’t seem to be getting the consideration they should. Nothing happens in a vacuum.

President the Donald billed this executive order as a means of helping small business. Bullshit burger on a bullshit bun with a side of bullshit fries on a bullshit plate. Who stands to benefit more from a general reduction of regulation? The mom and pop that might be able to hire an extra employee, or all of the Donald’s billionaire pals who now have even more capital with which to take over the economy? If you want to ease restrictions on small businesses, ease restrictions specifically on small businesses. Put your money where your mouth is and prove there’s no conflict of interest or ulterior motive.

I could absolutely get behind that. Hell, helping small businesses is a core tenet of my own still-theoretical campaign platform. I’d argue that the rules for the family bakery up the street or the guy writing software in his garage absolutely should be a lot looser than those for huge conglomerates. Are you a multi-bazillion dollar corporation that refuses to pay its workers a living wage and wants to dump all its garbage in the river? Bite me. Are you a mom and pop trying to make it work in an area where the economy’s not so great? Let’s party! These are two wildly different games and they should be treated as such. You aren’t actually helping small business if you aren’t helping them gain ground on their larger competition in some way.

Why is it two regulations that have to be revoked rather than three or four or five? And what’s to keep me from writing one giant run-on sentence regulation that encompasses all sorts of stuff? Is there a limit to the number of conjunctions I can use? How do we feel about semicolons, or parenthetical statements nested to the nth degree?

And…*gasp* what happens when there’s only one regulation left? Oh no! We’ll never able to implement any new rules! Will we have to ask Sean Spicer (the closest thing the administration has to a hobbit) to put together a fellowship and drop the One Regulation to Control Them All into the volcanic caldera of Mt. Doom? (Yes, in this joke the volcanic caldera of Mt. Doom is Kellyanne Conway’s mouth.)(Oh man I’m gonna be laughing at that one for days.)

Reducing the complexity of our government is a noble goal, but it’s something we need to be smart about. This is just another silly play to the base and another box to check off on the to-do list on the Donald’s fridge. Steve Bananas is going to give him another sticker! There are better ways to help small businesses compete…you know, like actually helping small businesses compete.

Shit like this is why we need a wanking emoji. Who do I talk to about that?


While we’re here, we also have to talk about Sally Yates, former acting Attorney General. News broke yesterday that she’d ordered the justice department not to defend the executive order temporarily banning immigration from seven countries. Hours later, she was fired. The press release explaining why is horrific. You need to read that.

The United States government is not a monarchy; it’s a conversation, essentially, in which a series of checks and balances at least tries to make sure one voice doesn’t drown out the others. The role of the Attorney General is to follow the law, not the orders of the President.

So he fires people who do their job correctly if it means they’re not completely loyal to him. He’s been spewing nationalist rhetoric for a year and a half. He constantly demonizes immigrants and goes on and on about law and order. He’s suggested the press needs to be muzzled.

This is basically the first page in the binder they hand out at New Dictator Orientation.

Maybe that wanking emoji isn’t quite enough.

Ban this

First off, I would like to thank President the Donald for providing me with so much blog fodder. His never-ending quest to haphazardly check off all the boxes beside his campaign promises so it looks like he’s actually accomplished something has been invigorating, to say the least.

So this immigration ban on seven Middle Eastern countries is dumb, right? Yes, I know that refugees from these areas have caused problems in Europe. Yes, I know Syria should probably be renamed Westeros at this point. Yes, terrorism is a horrible thing and we’ll remain a target as long as we’re prosperous.

I don’t care.

I could tell you we should be nicer to refugees because god damn it we’re the fucking good guys and it will pay off in the long run. I could tell you that assuming people who want to hurt us so badly won’t find a way to fake being a part of the “right” faith is extremely naive. I could tell you that declaring seven countries to be full of nothing but terrorist scum is a great way to encourage violence by people already inside our borders and is going to look amazing on the cover of ISIS’s next recruitment flyer. I could tell you that only a fucking asshole would implement changes like this without any sort of advance warning to travelers. I could tell you this whole thing will likely end up proven unconstitutional. But you’ve heard all that, so let’s get full Scott Colby on this bastard.

What this really comes down to, of course, is terrorism. Terrorists hurt people and damage property to make statements and influence the lives of their enemies. That last clause is the key, and it’s the part we’ve been doing a shit job fighting.

There’s one and only one correct way to react to a terrorist attack: help the victims, rebuild, smile and crack a beer when a drone shoves a rocket up the correct person’s ass, and don’t change a god damn thing.

When I see a metal detector at a sporting event or a concert I get pissed. When I saw a man in military fatigues carrying a big rifle in the Kenmore Square station at Red Sox Opening Day I was rip shit and I wanted to punch Wally approximately 7000 times more than I usually want to punch Wally. Every single one of these changes to our daily lives is a reminder that our enemies are slowly exerting their influence upon us—and we’re helping them. Many of these changes set a precedent that could allow future crackhead politicians to tighten down on our lives even further. It’s wasted money, time, and manpower that could be spent on more constructive efforts.

So I’m against the immigration ban not just for the humanitarian issues and logical lapses, but for the same reasons I was against the Patriot Act, expanded electronic surveillance, increased airport security, and all the rest: I ain’t fucking afraid of fucking terrorists. I’m not giving those terds the time of day. I’ve lived just north of Boston for the last decade, by the way, so don’t tell me that’s just because terrorism hasn’t impacted my life. I really don’t understand why so many Americans who live in places that would never in a million years become targets get their knickers in such a collective twist about this shit. I mean, seriously: 9/11 was horrible, but how in the fuck are we still using 9/11 as an excuse to do things? Bin Laden got got and Al Qaeda’s a smoking crater. When does it end?

If you’ve got concrete intelligence suggesting an impending attack then yeah, do something about it. If your intelligence consists solely of “these guys look like that last asshole and have a few of the same hobbies,” get the fuck outta here. If you can help fifty people but one of them might cause trouble, you absolutely help those fifty people and take your chances with that one jerk.

Refugees whose lives have been ruined by terrorism are being kept at arm’s length because they themselves might be terrorists. Wrap your head around that one. What a kick in the junk. Innocent Muslim children who don’t actually know what a Mohammed is are going to die because of this crap.

We’re the home of the brave, right? Fucking prove it.

The five most underrated sandwich ingredients

I don’t know about you, but crapping on the President all the time makes me hungry! There’s no better way to soothe the hunger pangs of an outraged liberal stomach than with a good old-fashioned sandwich. So here are the five most under-rated sandwich ingredients, because if I just write about politics all the time I’m going to drive myself nuts.

5. Spinach. Lettuce is for losers, bro. Lettuce doesn’t even lift. It ain’t swole like you and me. Now spinach, on the other hand…that shit’s lit. It fits better. It tastes better. It’s greener. Spinach all the way.

4. Caramelized onions. A source of sweetness often overlooked. Caramelized onions are the clean up hitters of the Sandwich All-Star team. They drive all the other flavors in with authority.

3. Italian meats. Salami. Capricola. Mortadella. Prosciutto. Soppressata. (…those are all Italian, right?) Here’s your muscle. Your carefully cured enforcers. Solid alone; dangerous in a group. Italian meat keeps the rest of your sandwich in line through sheer force of will. Treat it right or it will catch you outside.

2. Onion rolls. The foundation. Without some sort of bread, your sandwich is just a pile. Nobody wants a pile. A nice fluffy onion roll kicks your lunch to the next level. It’s absorbent. Stuff doesn’t fall out of it. Satisfying to hold but easy to put in your mouth (HA HA HA).

1. Stuffing. This stuff’s the shit, yo. Stuffing ain’t just for various hollowed out birds. Used appropriately, it adds a layer of moisture, flavor, and texture that can rock the Oakleys right off the back of Guy Fieri’s head. Try it. Love it. Thank me later.

And no, I’m not suggesting you try an Italian sub with spinach, caramelized onions, and Stove Top on an onion roll…or am I?

You know what doesn’t make a good sandwich? Trying to charge your neighbor for a stupid Fucking Wall you don’t need in the first place. Oh, so you’ll force them to pay with a 20% tariff on goods imported to your country? Way to pass the cost off onto your own citizens, dickweed. But I get it; it’ll never come to that, because that sort of tariff would tank the Mexican economy by allowing goods from elsewhere to undercut their prices. Investments into Mexico have already slowed and the peso craps all over itself any time the topic is brought up. Anyone with the wherewithal to cross the barren wasteland along the border ain’t going to be deterred by a wall. A wall can’t stop tunnels, aircraft, drug-launching t-shirt cannons (yup, that’s real), ladders, ropes, Brock Lesnar, human pyramids, pole vaulters, Graboids, or dynamite. There’s a reason this sort of fortification went out of style around the same time as full plate armor, broadswords, and healing people with leeches. He’s holding a friendly neighbor hostage to pay for a wasteful project that’s going to turn into nothing but a giant money pit. What a nice, reasonable fucking guy. I hope all the animals that can’t migrate past the Fucking Wall piss all over it.

Sorry. Couldn’t resist. Enjoy that sandwich!

A crappy parable

Let’s say you wake up one morning and decide you hate your neighbors. In your infinite wisdom you decide to stroll up and down the street screaming at the top of your lungs about how they’re degenerate assholes and losers who can’t be trusted, and the next time any of them even touches a blade of your precious grass you’re getting the hose or maybe the paintball gun.

You make sure to do this every day so they don’t forget. Occasionally you single one of them out for being particularly lazy or disgusting. “Ron’s a useless slob and his wife is ugly!” you shout. “The Worth kids are never going to amount to anything but meth heads and their father’s a diddler, I just know it!” You feel good.

Next, you build a fence. Not just any fence. The best fence. You pay for it out of your family’s vacation funds without any second thoughts and your useless, no good neighbors are going to reimburse you once it’s done. They’ve never agreed to do so, and they’ve told you over and over to pound sand, but you insist they’re going to pay up anyway and you boast loudly of your brilliant plan to anyone who will listen. You give the job of building the fence to your brother-in-law, who you pay extra because he’s family and it’s not like you’re using your own money to pay for it, not really.

The fence takes three years to build because your land’s kind of uneven and your brother-in-law’s kind of a lousy scumbag. It winds up costing a lot more than you thought. No family vacations until at least 2025. Your kids don’t really hate you; it’s just a teenage phase they’ll grow out of. They’ll understand when they’re adults.

You look out proudly upon your fence. It’s done. Your friends and family didn’t believe you’d actually do it, but you did. Now you realize you have to watch it, carefully, lest one of those ne’er-do-wells surrounding you tries to climb it or vandalize it or throw stuff over it. So you do. You start losing sleep. Your work life suffers. Your wife, feeling neglected, starts sleeping with Mr. Worth, the supposed diddler, who’s family got to go to Disneyland three years in a row. None of the neighborhood kids will trade Pokemon with your little bundles of joy. Your house gets egged on Halloween. The Homeowner’s Association “forgets” to invite you to the summer block party. No one will give your wife a cup of sugar when she goes asking around for one, ruining your daughter’s Sweet Sixteen and directly resulting in five years of steep therapy bills.

Maintenance costs continue to climb. Your beloved fence needs a fresh coat of paint. It’s crooked and sinking a bit over in the corner. Your neighbors continue to ignore the invoices you leave in their mailboxes, except that god damn Mr. Worth who tries to pay in Monopoly money. And somehow, despite your magnificent fence and your tireless vigil, you find dog shit on your lawn all the god damn time. Your daughter comes home from school in tears because all the other kids won’t stop making fun of her crazy ass father.

A massive storm hits the area, toppling trees, damaging roofs, the works. The neighborhood bands together to help Mr. Worth patch up his garage. You remove the fallen tree from your driveway, alone, while your wife glares at you through the kitchen window and sexts her secret lover. You throw out your back.

But you wouldn’t actually do all of that, right? That sort of thing would make you the town joke because only a crazy person would be that fucking nuts. You know being neighborly will pay off in the long run. You know there are better, cheaper ways to protect your beloved lawn. And you’d try to instill all those positive values in your children and make sure they get to go to Disneyland at least once.


TPP for my bunghole, and other stories

A common refrain among supporters of our new President is that we should judge him on what he does, not what he says. That’s a fair point, even though I would argue (vehemently, and with more than a few words that would make Mike Pence blush) that what he says is almost guaranteed to cause more harm than he’ll ever be able to balance out with his actions. If I’m to maintain any semblance of journalistic integrity, however, I have to at least try to look at these things fairly. At the very least it’ll help me stay informed so I can write even more crappy jokes.

At the time of this writing, President The Donald has issued five executive orders. Unless I missed one or two. It’s possible. Let me know.

1. He cancelled a Federal Housing Administration mortgage premium cut.

The FHA backs mortgages for home buyers with credit score problems and those who can only make a small down payment. It’s a popular program among low-income buyers and first-time homeowners. That cut, by the way, was of a whole quarter of a percentage point.

The verdict: I thought it was time to help regular old Americans. What an odd thing to mess with on your first day, especially given the optics. Thumbs down.

2. He signed an executive order instructing federal agencies to minimize the financial burden of the Affordable Care Act on organizations and individuals.

This mostly applies to the ACA’s individual mandate, which requires individuals to have health insurance. It likely means we’ll see the penalties imposed on those who don’t have insurance waived.

The verdict: As a dirty fucking socialist, I was rather disappointed with the ACA. Sure, it helped millions of people get healthcare that wouldn’t have been able to otherwise, but health insurance companies are parasites on the ass of society and they need to be launched into the sun. Single-payer or bust, yo. However…getting those people healthcare was a positive step, and tearing down the provision that makes all of that possible—that loathsome individual mandate—doesn’t bode well, especially when all we know so far about the supposed replacement for the ACA is just “it’ll be great, you’ll see!” Thumbs down.

3. He withdrew the United States from the Trans Pacific Partnership.

An attempt to open up free trade across Asia and sort of box in China, the TPP’s long been an issue on both sides of the aisle.

The verdict: Thumbs way the fuck up. Seriously. I can’t get them high enough. I’d have to launch them from my hands like rockets headed for the moon. It’s entirely possible the TPP would’ve helped American businesses, but its provisions regarding stronger copyright law, off-shoring a really weird list of professions, and granting businesses the right to sue governments for future lost profits due to legislation were rancid bullshit. President Obama was a big supporter of this one and Hillary Clinton waffled back and forth on it. Remember, kids: the Democrats aren’t actually a liberal party. They’re moderates. They just look liberal compared to the other side. Well done, Mr. Trump.

See! I can be fair!

4. He reinstated the Mexico City policy restricting the disbursement of funds to international non-governmental organizations that perform abortions or push abortion as a form of birth control.

Every President since Bill Clinton has messed with this one exactly as you would expect. It’s worth noting that federal funds are never spent on abortions; the NGOs affected by this move this move use their own funds for abortion-related services. This simply cuts off funding to pro-choice organizations overseas and limits access to reproductive health options and birth control in the process.

The verdict: This one’s a vapid play to the base. Pence probably had to change his pants afterward. If you’re trying to limit the number of abortions, defunding other forms of birth control is an ass-backwards way to do it. If you’d rather see that money spent internally instead, well, there’s got to be a better delimiter than “they’re pushing abortion!” with which to determine who, if anyone, you’re playing ball with. And what happens when a poor country becomes overpopulated? People move into other countries, in many cases *gasp* illegally! Thumbs down.

5. He froze federal workforce hiring.

Note that this does not involve the military.

The verdict: Push. This one sucks for people who were applying for federal jobs, but I can’t blame the new guy for wanting to freeze things while he takes the time to familiarize himself with what’s going on. Short term, however, this could actually raise government costs if various agencies need to contract planned work out to consultants and contractors.


If you’re just tallying things up, that’s one big positive, three negatives, and one that can’t be quantified either way. It’s not worth reading too much into these first orders. They’re about what you’d expect from a Republican President. Stay tuned.

Inaugurate this

On Friday, Donald J. Trump was inaugurated as the 45th President of the United States. If you had told me even six months ago I’d be typing that sentence, I would’ve handed you a twenty and suggested you think about ditching the crack.

It was a dark, dreary, spectacularly ominous day in DC. The mall looked pretty empty. Former Presidents Clinton, Bush the second, and Carter were all in attendance. Slick Willy may have gotten caught staring at Melania or Ivanka. W got bested by a rain poncho. Outgoing president Barack Obama appeared pensive, like his mind was whirring a mile a minute as he processed it all from every possible angle. In between benevolent plastic smiles, Hillary looked ready to shank someone. Vice President Mike Pence sported his usual “I just sharted my pants and I’m trying to figure out how long I can get away with not changing them” expression. Politics as usual.

What was absolutely not normal, however, was President The Donald’s speech. If you woke up from a coma and that was the first thing you saw, you’d think America had become a hellish dystopian wasteland ruled by gangs, crime, drugs, and evil bastards demanding you tithe your first born lest you face the lash. That’s not any America I know. We’ve got our problems for sure, and certain areas could use some help catching up, but we are absolutely trending in the right direction. We have been for a while now.

I also find it interesting that if you take his speech and replace every negative reference to “the establishment” or “the government,” with “the 1%” or “the business elite,” large portions of it become super spot-on. If we assume that a key goal of his platform is to twist populism into protecting billionaires like himself and his pals from a rising tide of frustrated Americans (and I absolutely do), then this is a masterful job of manipulation and deflection.

Also, I learned that his middle initial, J, stands for John. Not Jonathan or Johnathan or the like. Just John. It’s irrelevant, but I still find it odd.

I’ll give him this, though: standing up there and telling all the representatives, senators, governors, and former presidents surrounding him that they’re horrible at their jobs took some serious balls. Kudos to the former presidents for sitting through it with dignity, or at least what passes for it when you get caught ogling another man’s wife or you lose a hard-fought battle to a sheet of plastic. I can’t picture the current president doing the same were the roles reversed (other than the leering, of course).

It gets weirder. Remember that relatively empty mall I mentioned? Various outlets have reported attendance to be lower than both of Obama’s inaugurations. The White House, however, sent deer-in-the-headlights Press Secretary Sean Spicer out to the press conference podium to refute those reports in a manner that can only be described as “they’ve got my family suspended above a pool of hungry sharks.” Seriously. Watch this. It’s nuts.

Shit like that is what makes people think the president’s a dictator-in-training. It’s evidence of a deranged, narcissistic personality that can’t handle any sort of criticism or perceived loss. His pathological need to be the best at everything is absolutely going to fuck the rest of us somehow—and this, above and beyond anything else, is why I’ve spent so much time rambling against him. The Trump brand itself, which is based on always winning, may be his single biggest conflict of interest.

Had the White House left the attendance thing alone, talk of it would’ve fizzled out in a day or two. Immaturely poking it in the eye with a stick just made it immortal (author’s note: please don’t stab your eye in an attempt to make yourself live forever). All it would’ve taken to wipe it away was a quick, genuine “Welp, I’ll give more people a reason to come to my next one!” Problem solved! Now you’ve taken a perceived weakness and turned it into an admirable goal, efficiently and positively.

But nope. Dude just can’t handle his shit, especially when Obama’s involved. Guaranteed he had his aides digging through every nook and cranny of the White House just in case Barack forgot to grab his secret Kenyan birth certificate out of its hiding place. Pssssssssssst: it’s in a waterproof bag in the toilet. No, further down the drain. Further. Keep going. Get a snorkel. And it’s magically sealed so only a POTUS can touch it. Get in there, Donnie!

Can’t wait to see how he pegs attendance at the women’s marches as “like 20,000 or so.” I went. I’ll have thoughts on that tomorrow once I’ve processed it all.

Thanks, Obama

Judging a president’s term in office is a monumental task. Trying to break it all down into a single grade, sentence, or soundbite really does no justice to the enormity of the job, but we writers have to try anyway. Think about the sheer size of the United States, and the diversity of its people, and how quickly lives can change, and the way it all interacts with the rest of the world—and then think about being in a position where you’ve got a ton of power over all of that. Makes your head spin, right? Give me a second to pick myself up off the floor.

But seriously. How do you do it? You can’t boil it all down to a number like sabermetricians do with baseball players. There’s no Value Over Replacement President (although—nerd alert—I would read and share the shit out of an article that tried to establish that metric). How do you judge whether inaction in Syria outweighs the benefits of expanded health insurance? How do you balance the scales between the expansion of government surveillance and the stimulus package that helped bring us out of the recession? You kind of can’t, in part because you’re comparing apples to oranges and in part because we still don’t know how such decisions are going to effect us longterm. Some parts of our lives are better than they were eight years ago. Some parts are worse. Trying to tally it all up is silly.

But the nation is still standing. The United States of America is still the world’s preeminent superpower and our enemies and rivals hate us cuz they ain’t us. You and me and everybody else still has a shot to make something more of ourselves. Maybe that sounds like I’m setting the bar pretty low, but there are a zillion ways this thing we built could all unravel. It didn’t, and it doesn’t look like it’s going to any time soon. George W, the only other president I can remember really well, left us in a big steaming cloud of uncertainty. Obama’s leaving us with hope for a bright future (yes, even despite all the bullshit the Trumpalumps are trying to pull). In that regard, I’d say he did a fine job.

There’s one more thing that’s even harder to quantify that I think will lead us to look back on Obama’s presidency as a great success: that is one inspirational dude. If you look at this guy and don’t get a little warm and fuzzy because he’s a great human being, your heart’s either made of stone or you seriously need to lay off the conservative Kool-Aid and see a doctor immediately. He’s a rare combination of patience, thoughtfulness, and dignity that we should all strive to emulate, regardless of our political beliefs. He’s just a good dude. Fuck, he even makes me want to be less of an asshole. His rise to the presidency proved that nice guys don’t always finish last, that racism and prejudice can be overcome, and the legions of young people he’s inspired will likely grow up to do great things. Some are concerned for Obama’s legacy as the Republicans gear up to tear down his work, but they can’t ever touch his real legacy—that positive spirit he instilled in so many—and their obsession with wiping him away might actually add even more fuel to that fire.

Some Americans look back at the last eight years and wonder where all the hope and change is. It’s coming; it’s just a slower burn than we thought it would be. Thanks, Obama. For reals. If you’re ever in town I’ll buy you a beer and a couple games of Keno.