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The off-Broadway play Hamilton, which sets the life of founding father Alexander Hamilton to music, is all the rage today. But the real story is about William (1797-1850), who was Hamilton's illegitimate son. In the words of more than one female, he was also "super hot." When he was not turning heads with his wavy hair and well-formed features, Junior was pounding nails as a carpenter. When he wasn't practicing carpentry, he was lobbying for the abolition of slavery. In the early 1830s he participated in the first national conventions of African Americans and was an outspoken opponent of racism, often risking life and limb to go against the grain - that is, against the lining of wealthy landowners' pocketbooks, or whatever men used to keep money in back then. I give up.

When asked about racial equality, Hamilton replied that any difference between blacks and whites "is in favor of the people of color." That's leaving no room for doubt about who's superior. And truly blacks have a leg up on whites in many a sense. Blacks are better athletes in almost every sport they're interested in, not just America's big three - baseball, basketball and football - but also soccer and golf. And tennis, where the Williams sisters can't be beat. There are fewer persons of color among the stand-outs in hockey and bowling and triathlon because these sports offer little in the way of either money or glory. Which is also a testament to the brothers' high IQ. It was after all a black guy who said "Show me the money" (Cuba Gooding, Jr; Jerry Maguire), although a white guy did write the line. While it is true that in bodybuilding, which showcases the most sculpted and symmetrical bodies under the sun, there have been the Arnolds and the Dorians, both of whom were white, neither American, the perennial winners are often men of color. I'm talking Lee Haney and Ronnie Coleman and the current champion, Phil Heath. Blacks also excel in the ring, whether as UFC fighters or boxers. The top three pugilists on anybody's list are Ali, Tyson and Mayweather, all with similar skin tones. It's the ones watching these stars, rooting for them, betting on them, making money off them, who are white. But not always, Don King. And the fighter makes money too. Mayweather's last payout was $210 million, so who is punch drunk?

Even in white-dominated sports like bobsledding, let a brother in the game and he dominates, as did Herschel Walker who competed in the Olympics, and in football, and in the UFC. Damn son! Every two-sport athlete I can think of - Jackson, Jordan and Sanders come to mind - have been black, as are the funniest men on earth (Murphy, Pryor, Chappelle ). And forget about musical chops. Who is as astronomically talented and multifaceted as Prince or Michael Jackson, either before or since? You see white boys rocking out to the music of these dark-skinned demigods and their gold-teethed rapper counterparts all the time. How many black kids try to be white? Other than the twin kings of pop, who lightened their skin and may have narrowed their noses, what do you think? 

I'm convinced Elvis had black blood, too. Which is what my friends' parents used to say about me, not just due to my naturally dark skin, which is courtesy of Lebanese and Mexican forebears. Mostly it is because I grew up playing sports with inner city kids, racing as fast as I could, being one of them because they let me. In class we formed a Jackson tribute group and belted out Beat It while thrusting our pelvises. And as the black kid they let me be, I take especial pride in boasting that blacks are in general more shall we say endowed than whites. I have not seen many penises other than my own and those of my immediate male relatives, but if pornos and the gossip of girlfriends are any indication, then this stereotype is justified, as are the sayings "black is beautiful" and "once you go black you never go back."

I wouldn't know. I've never gone. And blacks aren't to be underestimated when it comes to smarts. The physicist to the stars, Neil deGrasse Tyson, is black. And so is the president, who is also a scholar and a Renaissance man, unless you are like Trump and believe he's an Arab. But Trump is a philistine, if we're trading terms. In fact we blacks are so smart you don't find us doing jobs that are just no fun to perform, even at the risk of being called lazy. I had a friend in high school named Lou Black. His mother was an albino and his father an African, so Lou had the wiry hair of one and the translucent skin of the other. But he was insistent on being called black, and not just in name. "I'm Black!" he'd yell whenever we commented on how sensitive his skin was to the sun. We didn't push it. Lou was big in more ways than one.

Which is why I don't get it when members of our race cry persecution. How can superiors be persecuted by those who natural selection has placed at their feet? Maybe it's just a legacy of slavery and yet another indication of how backwards our world can be. Some of the most brilliant thinkers history has ever known renounced their positions and took up the staff and begging bowl when the dullards above them who called themselves kings lorded it over everyone else. Buddha was one of these cats. He gave up his kingship to live the life of a vagrant. And one of the world's biggest religions emerged in his name. Who's king now? Like Christ. Think of the money the son of God could have made had he directed his supernatural talents to monetary pursuits. Instead he moseyed around bearded and barefoot, the world's first hippie. And they called him the King of the Jews. Can't escape your fate.

It's the same for women, who cry out for equal rights and pay and the like. Women are without a doubt the stronger sex. Who else could endure the agony of childbirth? Or the slobs that men can be? And a woman's intuition trounces man's logic any day of the week, while the maternal instinct is what makes the world go round. It's enough to make me almost wish I had a pussy. But not quite, because then I couldn't mate with one, which has always been my favorite sport. But if I were as busty as I am black, or rather more, I'd be the next Oprah. I'd let the small sickly inferior race pretend at superiority while they showed me the money. And on the way to the bank I'd say, We know who's the real winner now, don't we? As it is I am neither woman nor winner. But like my man Hamilton I do have wavy hair.


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