Kenan is a Fool ...

and as such, he is welcome.

Now, some of you may wonder why I have offered space on this blog to this oftentimes annoyingly erudite young ailurophobe -- dont try to front, man (heh, heh; heh.) -- I'll tell you this: Nothing sets off the glossy light of my fur like a scruffy-faced young man with an agenda that's ... well ... pretty much a lot like mine. (lollipop anyone?)

Now ... don't listen to his mess about the metaphysical, Baudrillardian, metaphorical applications of this cat-owned-and-run progressive blog where I may or may not ruminate on the oft-Orwellian state of this nation, and, I'll say it, world. No, I'll ask you instead to, in reference to The Wiz, don't look behind the curtain kids. Look at the picture instead ... all that adept cultural analysis leaves you running around funny rooms with a white coat, an odd haircut, and not much to offer other than razor-sharp observations and an oversized lolly with which to desperately woo would-be friends.

Bottom line is: think not; want.
As Hibbert's (I mean, uh, Kenan's) friend Mr. Steward recently observed, "Fear is the new black."

Ah well ... I'd make some sort of smart-kitty'd comment about affirmative action here (it almost begs for a Tab A / Slot B insertion), but I think that if anything ... it just speaks directly to the National Republican Party's successful buying and selling of African Americans as a political tool (Condi Rice? Secretary of What? Really?)

Going to shake my head and get my nap on ... at about -1,000 degrees here in New York City, I'm needing a little bit more than my standard 18 hours ... plus, I'm anglin' for a little "outdoor cat" time. As such, I've gotta practice that look of absolute, paralyzing terror that seems to be the calling card and/or acceptable I.D. for any average American walking the streets these days. I'm all about ruling the roost. I, as the kids say, ain't neva skeered. Ah, fuhgettaboutit. Who'm I kiddin? I'll be back at the window tomorrah.

Back to you, Hibbert.