Episode 203

February 18, 2011

New Rules

New Rule: If you're an adult and you go to the Justin Bieber movie by yourself...and you're not a film critic...you have to register as a sex offender.

New Rule: There's no such thing as an "Express" hotel. What does that even mean? My room doesn't make local stops? When did "express" become a synonym for "even cheaper and less nice"?

Who's ever thought, "Well, I like Holiday Inn, but sometimes I don't need all that luxury?" What is the next step down from "Express"? "Holiday Inn Boxcar"?

New Rule: [slide of Lance Armstrong print ads] You could either endorse a beer or an energy drink, but not both. "Tired of being tired? Maybe it's because you're drinking all that shitty beer."

New Rule: Colombian drug lords need to stop showing off. We get it. You won the war on drugs. Look, it's not that I'm not impressed that you built a 100-foot submarine capable of transporting eight tons of cocaine. I just want to know how you plan to get that thing up some poor Mexican's ass.

If my ancestors had fought for the right to abduct teenagers and force them into prostitution...I probably wouldn't re-enact that.

And finally, New Rule: Since the number one cause of death in the Civil War was diarrhea - that's true - Civil War re-enactors must do all their inspiring battlefield recreations with a steaming load of crap in their pants.   

And if you think that sounds uncomfortable and unpleasant, try slavery.  

Now, I mention this because today - this very day - marks the 150th anniversary of the inauguration of Jefferson Davis as president of the Confederacy. And that's when all the shooting and pooping started.  

And, tomorrow, in Montgomery, Alabama, in just one of many "slavery shindigs" around the South this year, the Sons of the Confederacy are sponsoring a march to celebrate the Confederacy, part of a whole year of nostalgia, including battle re-enactments, parades and grand balls. Which is what you have to have, really, to convince people that there's nothing f**ked up about celebrating slavery.

Oh, I know - I know they're not celebrating slavery, they're celebrating a way of life. [sings] "Oh, I wish I was in the land of cotton..."  Yes, because someone else was picking it.   

I tell you, Southerners - and I love them - but they have more disconnects than AT&T.   

And it started with Jefferson Davis. In his inauguration speech, he didn't once mention slavery. He just talked about [does air quotes] "agriculture" and "resources," and then winked so much his wife thought he was "sexting" her by Morse Code.  

Now, I know your Southerners have had a tough go of it. You lost the Civil War to the North, Reese Witherspoon to Hollywood...and the Dixie Chicks to Satan. And I'm not trying to offend my Southern friends, mostly because you're on meth and packing heat.   

But underneath that trucker hat there is a plantation-sized mental split going on. Because even the Southerners who do the re-enacting and lionize their slave-holding ancestors, would tell you that they now think slavery was wrong. Then how could killing people to defend it have been right?

If my ancestors had fought for the right to abduct teenagers and force them into prostitution...I probably wouldn't re-enact that. On the weekends with the cast of "Gossip Girl."  

And why is it that the people who want to re-enact the war are the losers? That's like sexual role-playing, and starting with, "Hey, remember that time I couldn't get it up?"  "Let's relive that." 

So, okay, I'm not saying that your great-great grandpa, Lucius Merriwether Cornpone didn't fight bravely at the Battle of Who-Gives-A-Shit but, he was fighting on the wrong side.

Just as I'm sure there were brave soldiers in Hitler's army. But I wouldn't start a restaurant called the "Waffen Hut."   

And all this talk about the Southern way of life. Please, I've been to the South. It's the same way of life we have here: you watch TV, you go to the mall, you eat a soft pretzel and you go home.  You just do it slower. That's all.   

"Gone With the Wind" was just a movie. A movie made in Culver City.  By Jews.

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