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The First Draft of President Obama’s Farewell Speech

By Michael Harriot

Last night, in front of an adoring crowd in Chicago,  President Barack Obama gave a final farewell speech to America. It was beautifully eloquent as he thanked America for allowing him to serve for eight years, and implored citizens to remain active in politics and their communities. It moved the assembled mass and touched the hearts of everyone in attendance. By the end, there was not a dry eye in the house.

As great as his oration was, President Obama’s initial version of his address wasn’t as epic as the final product. The first iteration of the speech was darker and much pettier than the inspirational opus you heard.

The crack team of investigative reporters at NegusWhoRead obtained a preliminary draft of the President’s speech through our extensive network confidential sources (It was a dude name Murray who is in the Secret Service. All he wanted was a pack of Marlboros and the new Kenny Chesney CD. Boy, those motherfuckers have fallen off). Here is a never-before seen copy of the first draft of Obama’s farewell speech.

My fellow Americans,

As I stand here before you now, bathed in love, armed with freedom, draped in gratefulness and  clothed in a bulletproof vest under this suit–because you never know when these niggas in Chicago might start shooting–I want to say “thank you.” When I was a young boy, my mother would take me and my grandmother on vacations.  Sometimes we would stay in  hotels, and before we checked out, my grandmother would always clean the room. I would watch my mother try to explain to my Nanna that the hotel had maid service, but my grandmother didn’t listen. She said you always leave a place better than it was when you got there.

Thank you for allowing me to serve as your leader for eight years. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to guide this great country. Most of all–thank you for the memories.

It seems like only yesterday the world was saying a Black man would never be President, and the Clintons were saying that White people wouldn’t vote for me. Look how far we’ve come. Eight years later, I’ve won two elections and Hillary is like a Black dude with Jungle Fever at the Essence Festival–wondering where all the White women went.

Yes we did it America. We gave health care to the poor, killed the most wanted man in the world, fought off the worst economic collapse since the Great Depression, ended two wars and brought a championship to Cleveland and a World Series ring to Chicago (Oh, y’all didn’t know that was me? You thought Lebron and Chapman did that? Bruh, let’s be real, before me, Lebron was losing everything–his fan base, championships, his hair–and I told him how to start winning. Even his hair is coming back. And don’t get me started on the Cubs. I just called a few members of the team and told them that I had a long conversation with some real thugs from the South Side. I didn’t threaten them, but I told them if they lose–in the words of my nephew Chance The Rapper– “There’s gon’ be dread head niggas in the lobby”).

They didn’t want any problems.

Anyway, time sure passes fast. Eight years ago America was mad about the pastor of my church. Now you have elected a “two Corinthians” spouting, tangerine-tinted, dunderheaded blowhard follower of liberating nothing. Y’all are some double-dealing, double-standard-having bastards. I had to disavow Reverend Wright but the new President-elect can have ties to the communist leader of the un-free world? That’s why I made Reverend Wright save my pew–because I’m going back to the same church, and you know what I’mma do? I have been saving all of my salary the American people have been giving me for eight years, and I’m gonna march to the front of Reverend Wright’s church and drop the whole thing in the offering plate. ALL of America’s money. And I hope he does something really Black with the money, too–like buy a church bus with 22-inch rims or give it to kids at HBCUs whose GPAs dropped because they were pledging. And I’m warning all of you: The first Sunday I go back to my old church after eight years of worshipping in D.C. with stodgy old White Presbyterians and Lutherans–

I’m probably gonna shout.

Hard.

Right now, as you’re watching this address, on another channel there is someone reporting that Russian intelligence officers have some dirt on Donald Trump. One report even speculates that it may be video of an orgy he had while visiting Russia. Think about that, America. I’ve kept America safe and there has not been one whiff of a scandal since I was in office, and now look what you’ve done.

All I’m saying is, when your children are failing their mandatory Russian classes, shuffling in their seats because they can only wipe with rough, Soviet, one-ply toilet paper after diarrhea has turned their buttholes into a chocolate milk dispenser because they can’t afford to go see a doctor without health care, don’t come crying back to old Barry O. If you ring the doorbell, me and Michelle are going to act like we’re not home.

Speaking of Michelle, my lovely wife, my rock, my best friend, my support system–I’d like to say something to all the White people who had the gall to send out racist emails about my wife’s appearances:

Why you mad?

Look at her, isn’t she fine? She’s beautiful, intelligent and as thick as the Chinese phone book. I know there are a lot of White women who disparage her because Michelle’s Black don’t crack, and I understand your jealousy. Sometimes, when we’re alone we chuckle at your-hating asses, mad because she’s 52 and looks 32, meanwhile White women, start going downhill at 30, and spoil quicker than unpasteurized milk. Look, we get it.

But I have heard some rumors that you may want her to run for President in four years. To that I say:

Nah, bruh.

I know White people are used to having Black people clean up after you break something but not this time, B. Y’all elected Donald Trump, so when America turns into a dystopian, totalitarian wasteland with nothing on the landscape but miles of Mexican wall, Whites Only restaurants and Trump Pussy-Grabbing Strip Clubs, don’t come looking for Michelle. We’re tired of cleaning up White folks’ mess. I’m half-white, and every time I fuck something up, I have to get my Black side to fix the problem.

To my beautiful daughters, Sasha and Malia, I want to thank you for the strength and poise you’ve shown under the white-hot spotlight of the world stage.I’m sorry Sasha couldn’t be here today, because she had an exam, and they wouldn’t take an excuse from the President of The United States. They said she needed another signature on it. You know how White people do. Even when you’re the leader of the free world, they still want to see your supervisor. You two were young kids when we first moved into the White hose, and now you’re all grown up. I only wanted the best for you, and tried to make sure you had a normal childhood so that you won’t end up  all slack-jawed and dead inside like the privileged Trump kids. I’m so proud of you. I didn’t have to spank you once during our entire stay, (although I did almost take my belt off, Malia, when you got caught smoking weed. I wasn’t mad that you were smoking marijuana. I wasn’t even upset that you did it in public where people could see you and take pictures. It’s just the disgrace you brought to our family name on how you rolled that joint. I know it didn’t pull right!), but aside from that, you have both done your father well.

To my homey Joe B.,  I’m gonna miss you, man. You are the definition of a true friend (although I did have to check you that one time when I thanked you for having my back and you said, “You know me. I’m down for my nigga”), but you’re still my dude.

I’m going to miss all the days you begged me to teach you the electric slide. I’m going to miss all the times we laughed at Ted Cruz’s melting face. I’m even going to miss having to hold you back and lock you in the closet of the Lincoln Bedroom to stop you because you said you were going to “march over to the Capitol building and bust Mitch McConnell in his shit.” You are a passionate man, Joe. That’s why I love you.

Finally, to the American people: Keep fighting. The value of our democracy is not in some piece of paper called the Constitution, it is in us. It even begins with “we, the people…” That is why it is important for you to get involved–because without each other the rich and powerful will always win. It’s why in 1776 a band of soldiers could beat the greatest fighting force in the world and began this great experiment we call America. It’s why every time this country seems like it will implode on itself–it doesn’t. The strength of America is that people of all colors, ethnicities religion and backgrounds could come together and make a Black man the leader of the free world. Just think what else you can do.

Now go out and do it.

People may try to stop you, just like they tried to obstruct my entire Presidency, but the thing I am proudest of… the thing I thank you the most for–is that we left America better than it was when I got here. I hope you’re proud grandma.

God bless you, and God Bless the United States of America.

I’m out this bitch.

 

 

About the author

Michael Harriot is a renowned spoken word poet, the host of The Black One podcast and the editor-in-chief of NegusWhoRead. He is perpetually just getting warmed up because he has no chill. He is on Instagram and twitter as @michaelharriot

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