The true story of how a sexist, egotistical, lying, hypocritical bigot of a president, the inanity of duped evangelicals, and misogyny in Hollywood, led one of the “whitest” and nerdiest black men on the planet to wake up, find his blackness, and lose all inhibitions at dropping the f-bomb. It’s an emotionally moving, politically poignant, and often hysterically funny coming of age story. Except the age is 50.
It’s kind of a psychedelic trip. Not your usual memoirist romp. The best way I can describe it to you is, imagine The Autobiography of Malcolm X as told to Quentin Tarantino, with contributions from Neil Gaiman, Charles Dickens, and Ta-Nehisi Coates. I’m speaking strictly thematically here. I’m in no way as good a writer as those authors (although, I think I could give Q.T. a run for his money.)