He's running excerpts from Obama's memoir:

"You Obama men are all the same," snapped Aoma testily as I climbed into the Land Rover. "Always abandoning your village, alway chasing after something on the horizon. What is it you need that you can't find here? Why must you leave your home?"

I thought for a minute, and looked into my half-sister's eyes. "I have to go," I said. "The video arcade in Nairobi just got Mortal Kombat II."

She rolled her eyes, unable to understand that deep longing that compelled me on the arduous two day journey across the Serengeti. When I finally arrived again in Nairobi, amid the dusty bustle of the market and the bloobidy-bloobidy-bloop of the arcade, I experienced an intense personal epiphany. It occurred to me that no matter their skin color, no matter their station in life, all humans have a deep-seated need to hog the Mortal Kombat machine. In that sense, the Kenyans at the arcade were no different that the white kids at the Galleria, although there were probably fewer Goths.

Read the whole thing.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 05:01 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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