This week is Time Magazine’s 100 Most Influential People. So I got up early, and instead of making a cup of coffee, I went out to celebrate the ritual of self-abuse with a cappuccino. This issue has always been an opportunity to beat yourself up by comparison, which has surpassed baseball as America’s Pastime.

I still read Time Magazine. It’s the only magazine I get. Usually, I flip to the last page. There’s something about the interview on the last page, it’s the first thing I want to see. All too often, it’s the only thing I want to read all the way through. The rest of the time I flip through the magazine, browsing for headlines and pithy quotes next to statistics.

I’m going to deconstruct the people who are listed. Not only the people who are listed, but the people who Time Magazine chose to write about them. More often than not, who they chose to write about the celebrated person says the most about the person, like when Ted Cruz wrote about Donald Trump. But I’ll get to that later.

I’m also going to list people along the way who aren’t listed but I think define the moment better than anyone in the magazine. This is no surprise. As much as I admire Time Magazine, it’s too conventional. I’d love to be published in their pages. But let’s face it, that’s never gonna happen.

Never.

Gonna.

Happen.

I’d like to give a shout out to Colin Kaepernick for taking a knee. The backlash he faced, and continues to face, says more about us than it does about him. We’re lost! I’d like to give a shout out to Samantha Irby. Her new book “We Are Never Meeting In Real Life” is next level. I don’t know how she does it, but Samantha has the ability to make me laugh in moments when I usually well up with tears. She won’t let me feel bad for her. It’s heroic! I’d like to give a shout out to Cara Brigandi for stepping off the mic to listen. Cara hosts a story jam called Grown Folks. It’s the 3rd Thursday of every month on the South Side of Chicago at Silver Room. The sense of community she built in the room is profound. But Cara is stepping away from the mic to get a degree. She wants to help black women. She already has but she’s reaching even higher. The guts!

Now back to Time Magazine.

Let’s start with the lowest of the low, Jeff Sessions. When you’re being honored by Mitch McConnell, it’s the surest sign Apartheid in America is alive and well. These men are sadistic. Mitch McConnell spent 8 years denying the presidency of Barack Obama simply because he couldn’t handle having a black president. Jeff Sessions was written about in the harshest possible terms by Coretta Scott King. To me, they are war criminals who are guilty of using language to incite violence. It’s no wonder the Alt-Right is on the rise, seeking to make the swastika sexy again. It was never sexy to begin with, unless you’re deeply insecure. I can’t think of 2 men more worthy of the distinction of Time Magazine’s Racist To The Bottom Award. I’m sure my accolades made them blush with white pride.

Moving from the bottom to the top, Jordan Peele wrote about Guillermo del Toro. When I saw “Get Out,” I couldn’t wait to tell everyone I knew without telling everyone I knew what the movie was about. When I heard about “The Shape Of Water,” I vowed I’d never go to a movie with a name like that. But like all vows, eventually I ate the vow and I’m happy to report this particular vow tasted like red vines mixed with popcorn. I was knocked away. My head wanted “Get Out” to win best picture. But my heart was in the closet for “The Shape Of Water.” Full Disclosure: when I read what Jordan Peele wrote about Guillermo del Toro, if I hadn’t been sitting in a coffee shop, I would have cried but I didn’t want to cry in public especially within days of the most recent mass shooting in a Waffle House. At this moment in time in America, crying in public is the surest sign your daddy molested your consciousness with AR-15 Fantasies.

Speaking of torture fetishists, Ted Cruz wrote a love letter to his abuser, Donald Trump. I’m sorry to say I read it. I hate both men. I’m not sure which one I hate more. Truth be told, I think Donald Trump ran a brilliant campaign and I’ve never seen Ted Cruz do anything besides pander to bigotry and drool over hatred. So I guess I should amend my comment and make it clear: I hate Ted Cruz more than any man or woman with power who doesn’t deserve the power since he doesn’t know the first thing about grace. I’d like to formally apologize to the word “grace” for using it within 500 words of Ted Cruz.

On the flip side of icky monsters, I’d like to give a shout out to Jessica Peralez. She works at Max’s Deli. Jessica has worked behind the cash register and deli counter. Jessica has worked as a waitress and shift manager. Jessica is currently upping her game by taking on the role of bookkeeper. I have never seen anyone rise to every challenge. She even has the courage to cry when she’s overwhelmed. I find this power to be vastly underrated. I’d like to give a shout out to my brother Lemon and my cousin Edith. Lemon wanted to sue Edith and I talked him out of it. Edith wanted to sue Lemon and she didn’t bother to talk to me first. So now they are both tied up in a lawsuit which has been going on for well over 3 years. I don’t know how to calculate the damage it has done, financially and emotionally. My family has been reduced to rubble. The lawyers have made a fortune. It’s the last bubble in America: legal fees. I will say there is a benefit to climbing out of the rubble since you’re left with nothing besides a will to live and a desire to find laughter. What a joke! I’d like to give a shout out to the Ghost of Grandpa Bernie. You’d be proud to know your family has lived up to the low expectation you set for us. Please say hi to the Ghost of Grandma Heather. Tell her despite everything, I miss my family at dinner time. And her key lime pie.

I can’t read the words of Ava DuVernay without feeling awe. She’s a game changer. “13th,” her documentary about for-profit-prisons in America changed the way I view incarceration. I can’t remember the last time a piece of art changed my thinking. I haven’t seen “A Wrinkle In Time.” I’m sorry, Ava. I know I should buy a ticket so the box office sends a signal to the money guys in Hollywood. We know critical acclaim means nothing to those bastards without a billion dollar box office on the opening weekend. But I refuse to turn entertainment into obligation. Speaking of getting things back on track, Robert Mueller is a fascinating case study in a character I know nothing about and yet somehow he has emerged in the narrative as the protagonist I’m rooting for. Maybe it’s the way he treats the spotlight as though it’s kryptonite. I do think Donald Trump won the presidency. I don’t think impeachment is the answer. But I’m enjoying the fight. It reminds me of Superman trading punches in the sky with Zod, the villain from Krypton. I think Donald Trump and Robert Mueller are from the same planet and I know someone has to win the battle of wills but I’m less interested in the win than I am in the battle. God help me! God help us! Which leads me to the kids from Parkland. I went to Washington DC to join the March For Our Lives. The march was so big it was a stand still. We couldn’t march, there were too many people. I loved the day. I loved the signs. I loved the feeling in the air. But if I learned anything from the speeches it’s this: kids are kids and kids aren’t leaders, despite the intention to do good, it takes more than ripped jeans and emotion. Martin Luther King knew how to turn a march built on a dream into civil rights legislation. He was 39 when a gun stole his life from the family who needed him at home in time for dinner and the millions of admirers who would have liked to grow old listening to Martin.

I’d like to give a shout out to my college roommate, Vinny Vee. I tell him 100%. He tells me 83%. It’s a fair deal. I’d like to give a shout out to Eddie Gee, the fraternity brother of my youth who’s the fraternity brother of my manhood. At Pi Lambda Phi we used to say “BMF.” This is code. It means “Brother Mine Forever.” I used to roll my eyes at the sentiment. Now I find my eyes welling up with tears when I pause to reflect on how true those words ended up being. Who knew? I’d like to give a shout out to Doctor Zeeger. He was the house dad at Pi Lambda Phi. I didn’t really know him. But from time to time, we smoked pot together. I liked smoking pot with a grown up. It felt validating. One time, we took a walk in a field next door to the frat house. He took a gigantic hit and then threw up. As he was wiping vomit off his shirt, he smiled at me and said, “I’ve thrown up before and I’ll throw up again.” I remember thinking to myself wow that’s cool but I really should stop smoking this shit. But I was hooked on instant friendships. I wasted 10 more years on pot. So it goes. Kurt Vonnegut isn’t listed. He’s been dead for too long. But I think he should be listed every year. He’s always relevant. He’s always funny. Is there a better combination? I don’t think so. Case in point…

Lena Waithe stole my heart in Master Of None. She’s gay. So I never had a shot. But I can’t help it. I love pretty much everything about her. I will admit my heart is fickle. It also fell for Tiffany Haddish and Kumail Nanjiani. I guess it’s safe to say I love the comics. It’s no secret I aspire. I used to feel bad when I felt jealous. Now I take a breath and let the jealousy guide my intentions. Thanks to Lena, Tiffany, Kumail and of course Edward Felsenthal, the editor-in-chief at Time Magazine.

I look forward to seeing the next 100 people I don’t measure up to. Til then…