Recently, I stated my position as an opponent to world peace. Today, I had an epiphany moment. I did like the bumpers stickers say and…visualized it. It was fleeting. But, I got enough of a glimpse to trace it back to where we are now – a sorry and divided lot – and saw that the path to unification was due largely, to the most unlikely of characters.
So far in my journey I have visited 12 states. Well, it is 12 if you count Tennessee and Kentucky as different states even though they are really the same place, just like Vermont and New Hampshire are the same place, if you know what I mean. But, the Tennessee/Kentucky thing is weird because Kentucky and West Virginia are the same place, but West Virginia and Tennessee are not. I know. Strange.
Anyway, even though we are so divided, every place has its similarities – the same stores, the same restaurants, the same strip malls, the same movie theaters, the same traffic patterns, we drive the same cars. We all have the same accent because we all watch the same TV shows and, life really does imitate art. Or the medium is the message or…whatever. but, because of that, those are MANUFACTURED similarities. There is nothing organic about it. We are programmed. Dammit, the zombie apocalypse is here and now. I’m pretty sure that’s why that Mexican company brought Twinkies back (I don’t expect anyone to get that reference).
The differences that exist are vague and subtle. It pretty much comes down to sports. Which team the locals cheer for. Now, I’m a Redskins fan…sorta. I’m not really a fan of any team. The old bastards were right back in the day – free agency did ruin the game. Now, instead of cheering for the home team, we all sit around and watch as billionaires play real-life fantasy football. It is sort of like watching Mel Brooks play chess in “History of the World part 1”.
So, yeah, we select our favorite billionaire and cheer for him to make the best trades and stuff. I don’t really waste my time with it.
In Georgia, they cheer for the Falcons owner, in South Florida, the Dolphins owner, in North Florida the Buccaneers owner in Louisiana, the Saints owner.
In places like Mississippi and Arkansas they wait with bated breath in the hopes the NFL will recognize their state and sanctify them with a franchise. Until then they cheer for college teams.
We are similar in that we all gather at Buffalo Wild Wings and watch our team lose, even though we enter into it swearing that our billionaire made the best moves and thus, WE are number 1.
The whole thing leaves me sour frankly.
And, even though we cheer for different billionaires, there is one who shines like a beacon…one BASTION to integrity left in this country and he is everywhere…Georgia, Florida…even Arkansas and Mississippi. Is he in D.C.? Yes especially in D.C. Ubiquitous is the word. He is tireless and cannot be defeated. If you destroy him, just like the mythical Hydra, two more ugly heads will rear up in his place. Through him we find a common ground for disgust and hatred, and therein lies our route to peace.
I am speaking, of course, of that asshole who makes it clear, through every garment on his body that he is, a Dallas Cowboy fan.
It is not enough for him to root for billionaire Jerry Jones, even tbough he has never so much as set foot in the great state of Texas, he needs the world to know it no matter what angle you see him from.
He wears the blue, gray and white and has that one big ass star embroidered and emblazoned on every article of his raiment.
I don’t know why…maybe his mother didn’t hug him when he was a child. Maybe for the same reason people worship the devil. When you don’t stand out in any way, shape, or form maybe you just want desperately to be noticed.
I thought that he was hated only in the Washington metropolitan area but, it turns out that people consider him a douche no matter where he is. And, no matter where, he pretends to not care.
So, when you see him – and you WILL see him, that fucker is everywhere – give him a little nod of approval or maybe a friendly smile, for, that simple son-of-bitch is our only hope.
Missing my one-of-a-kind, Trixie.