Thursday, January 21, 2010

Rants: F*#k Lewis and Clark!

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Despite the funny money, the cacophonous jabber, and the totally weird shoes the bastards wear over there, I think that I’ve felt more “at home” in Western Europe than I have in the great American west. As a man of northern European (British, Scandinavian) blood, my soul tells me that the optimal human environment should be stony grey and sooty, cold, damp and crowded.

New Mexico, Arizona, Utah, California—all are too sunny and dizzyingly vast. The natives expose too much of their flesh. The clash of colors is enough to bring on migraine attacks. And surfer music was an aural scourge in the late ‘50s and early ‘60s similar to the horror that disco emerged as twenty years later. I’m serious, really—f*#k Lewis and Clark!

The west: polygamous Mormons and illegal Mexicans; canyons and cultists; Indian reservations and Aryan compounds! Aughh! The Trail of Tears, Ruby Ridge, Waco, and Charlie Manson...there’s no end to it.

The west is the natural habitat of Manny Ramirez. The east is Derek Jeter.

The west is Tim McVeigh. The east is the 9/11 first-responders.

Earthquakes, mudslides, wild fires, coyotes eating babies, freaking volcanoes for chrissake! The only category of natural disaster the west doesn’t have in super-abundance is floods. And that’s because they don’t have enough water; which situation will one day—mark my words—provoke the next civil war.

Let Texas (Gov. Perry) and Alaska (ex-Gov. Palin) secede, and take the rest of their pickup driving, yippy-i-oh-ti-yay neighbors with them.
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