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Some Sort Of Drunken Rant by Ray Printer Friendly


Alternating clear and amber tonight, gin with a whiskey chaser. I’m almost out of both, and when I started, this seemed like the only logical solution—which shows you what kind of mind state I was in even before I started with the drink. The world has been practicing its nut shot on me, and it’s getting pretty damn good—at this point, I can taste my metaphorical scrotum, and it’s even more overpowering than the booze.

But there’s no need to cry about it, not with shot glasses full of poetry and fiction and drunken rambling and all the other shit I dump out around here when I’m in my cups.

Our presidential candidates appeared on a World Wrestling clip, what do you think of that? Obama, Clinton, McCain. They used wrestling lingo to talk about winning the presidency. What do you think of that?

I think the rainbow has dried up, boys and girls, and the pot at the end was found full of bullshit. The term “sinking ship” gets thrown around a lot these days, but we live in a country where a drugged-out whore with big tits dies of a self-inflicted drug overdose and gets more press than an entire war. One superficial death compared to how many? Thousands? Tens of thousands? Hundreds of thousands? It was a long time ago, and I should get over it, perhaps, but nothing has gotten better.

I look at the news, I see headlines about the singing show and the dancing show, and I see headlines about vag-flashing actresses heading in and out of rehab. The Harry Potter girl turned 18 like two days ago. You know how I know? Because there’s already a big media buzz about the pictures that show her crotch.

Washed-up rock stars drunk out of their minds, driving their 10-year-old kids around Hollywood; why do I know this shit? I shouldn’t, but I do.

My brain can’t hold onto coding information necessary for my final web design project, but I know how many days Paris Hilton spent in county jail.

Enough, society—you’re fucking up my headspace. You’re usurping my brain cells and painting them with shit. You’re pissing in the shallow waters of my soul, and they don’t need to be further polluted.

I’m not asking you to straighten up permanently—I’d be a fool to even suggest such a thing. I just need a brief respite. I just need a second to gather myself, get my thoughts in order. I just need you to lighten the constant assault of idiocy. If I watch television, I get what I deserve—I understand that. If I look at anything on the internet. If I read the tabloids in line at the grocery store, sure. But come on. There’s advertising for American Idol on cereal boxes, on pizza boxes, on macaroni & cheese boxes. Is it so important that you can’t let me eat my macaroni & cheese in peace? Alcoholic has-been, asshole British guy, fat black guy, and an asspile of lousy, self-absorbed "singers." Not important. Get off my food.

You’re the rat bastard kids on Halloween that throw eggs of mediocrity at my windows and cover my yard with absolute garbage, but you’re there every night, worse and worse and worse. You mug me with your pointless nonsense, stealing what’s mine and infecting me with your drivel.

When I go to vote, what will I think of? It won’t be the moving speeches, or even the petty mud-slinging. I will be thinking about how it doesn’t matter who I vote for—each one of them did a promotional spot on a wrestling show. Parodies of parodies of parodies—save your meta crap and get out of my face. You appear on my TV with a wink and a nod, like we’re all in on it together, but here’s the real joke: you.

Your country laughs at you behind your back, presidential candidates, and the world laughs in your face. And you deserve it. None of you are fit to run a broken-down outhouse, much less the strongest nation in the world.

Am I being too harsh? Absolutely. But I’m fed up. We cater to imbeciles, we cower to them and make the world a better place for them, when what we should be doing is leaving them behind. We have reached a point where natural selection no longer works because the people who should be moving up the evolutionary ladder are carrying the ones who should have long since choked to death on their fingers. A timeless example: the brain-numb bitch who sued McDonalds because she burned herself with coffee.

Fuck you, you stupid whore. In that one instant, you made the world a thousand times worse, and you opened the floodgates of jackassery. You greased the slide to the sewer, and I can only hope that when the world has collapsed around you and your kind, when you’re all left on a polluted planet with a pile of broken machinery and crumbling buildings, when everyone with any sort of intelligence has left the planet or killed themselves, I hope that you’ll look around and realize your mistake and your greed. I hope you will finally realize what you and people like you have done to the world.

It will never happen, of course. We’ll revert to a world full of morons, sacrificing anyone with an IQ over 15 to the gods of television, in order to secure another season of reality TV. Scientists will be burned as witches; true artists will be forced from society by the losers who hang blank canvases in museums; scholars will have to hunt in the night like vampires to avoid detection and persecution.

Keep in mind that this is the perspective of an American, though. For all I know, none of this will happen. Perhaps we’ll just be taken over by someone else. There are countries where they don’t sit around on the couch watching mental manure, eating grease-dripping food and discussing lame celebrity triviality. Instead, they work hard, and they flex their minds, and they strive for something better. So when our world falls apart around us, when we run out of people to blame and to sue, maybe someone from somewhere else will step in and keep us from wrecking ourselves for good.

Is that a good thing? I don’t know. I don’t like the idea of being taken over, and I like the idea of needing someone to step in and save me and my country even less. But something needs to change.

I know there are some people in this country who still think, who still dream, who still live. I also know that they’re heavily outnumbered.

posted 4/23/08

UPDATE: I saw this picture as I was posting this rant. What the hell is up with the Phantom of the Opera there in the background?

Entered By Jesse From Austin
2008-04-25 03:33:19

The most distressing part is being outnumbered. Because everyone that understands the problem, also understands that the idiots are the not only the majority, but they are the vocal majority... And it would just be too much effort to stand up against that and right the wrongs. Best to just shut up, grit your teeth, and get what you can without giving into the urge to throttle some dim motherfucker every day of the week. Just waiting for someone to stand up I can follow, that's all. I'd do it. But I'm not much of a public speaker.

Entered By Ray From Austin
2008-04-25 19:26:57

I think my tenure here at The Strangelands killed any chance I'd ever have at being a leader of any sort. That, and my incredibly small penis.

Entered By Jesse From Austin
2008-04-26 21:51:34

What does tenure have to do with it?

Entered By Ray From Austin
2008-04-26 22:56:33

tenure: noun 1. the term during which some position is held

Entered By Diane From NH
2008-04-27 00:58:24

My guess is we should be learning to speak Mandarin or Cantonese. Cuz' when they take over, they'll need some brown-nosing former Americans to act as overseers. You know - in the plastic knick knack factories.

Entered By Ray From Austin
2008-04-28 06:09:15

I'm not learning shit. You want to boss me around, you learn my language to do it. Thinking about it now, I'm pretty sure it'll be the robots that take over. I'll end up as a sex doll, I bet. Stinkin' irony.

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