Michael Davis: A Burning Love Story
In the years I’ve been writing these rants I don’t think I’ve ever written about love.
I’ve written about sex many times but not love. I’ve always wanted to write about love but somehow never got around to it. Funny-perhaps I thought love and sex was the same thing.
Is that why I have not written about love? Have I, all these years simply assumed that love and sex were one?
Gethefuckoutofhere!
Anybody that assumes sex is love I’m willing to bet has an appointment every week that begins with being asked about their relationship with their mother or father and ends with being told their hour is up.
You may love sex but sex is not love. Trust me on this; I’m a doctor.
I’ve been in love. I suck at it. I’ve had sex. I’m pretty good at that.
How good? I’ve heard, ‘you’re my daddy’ so often someone reported me to social services who showed up at my door and asked where all my children were.
Pine Valley, in case anyone’s wondering.
I think my problem is I’m way too much of a realist. I can’t pretend something could be just because I want it to be. Then again maybe I’m too much of a romantic, I’ve often pretended something that isn’t could be.
Or maybe I’m just a motherfucking idiot clearly the above statement is a blatant contradiction and sadly its also true. I wish I would just pick a side.
Why don’t I have a weekly appointment that begins with being asked about my mother? Because someone talking about my mother is grounds for me putting my foot up that someone’s ass. Paying someone who’s going to end up with my foot in their ass seems mighty ‘crazy white people shit’ to me.
Translation: Black men don’t go to shrinks.
Damn I’m a mess.
But-if I know I’m a mess am I really a mess? If you are aware you are crazy or you really? If I’m aware that I can’t love someone from a distance why do I think I can make a long distance relationship work? How can I be black and love the music of Florence Henderson.
Yeah.
I freely admit I love the music of Mrs. Brady and don’t give a shit who knows it. The great thing about loving her music is I don’t have to think rather or not her music is going to fuck a bunch of guys and them blame me.
Yeah- that happened to me once, a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away. It’s times like that when you turn to the things you love that cannot hurt you, things that cannot break your heart.
Like the music of Florence Henderson or comic books. Those things can never hurt you.
Right?
Wrong.
A funny thing happened to me the other day-my heart was broken. Broken by those I consider my extended family, fellow comic book fans.
The racism brandished on-line by some in comic fandom from the second a Black actor was cast, as Johnny Storm was agonizing for me.
It’s agonizing for all Black fandom and I dare say most comic fans of any color.
Yeah-I continue to be stupid and think people in comics, fan and professional are above this type of hatred.
I believe in my heart that the vast majority in our shared community is not what I’ve read on-line or saw in news reports.
I refuse to believe anything else.
I’m not real happy about the concept of a back Human Torch – but then, i’d be unhappy about a white Storm or an evangelical Christian Kitty Pryde.
Changing anything unnecessarily just for the sake of change (or bucks) is very often a bad idea.