Thomas Paine’s bellyaching couldn’t hold a candle to the past year. Ever since those mechanized robot-cops began haunting the dark streets in the name of John Ashcroft, there is a dwindling amount of reality pills which need to be rationed as sparingly as possible. In my effort to be patriotic and self-absorbed, I have neglected three or twelve weeks of those pills. But fortunately there is the last bastion of reality… Hollywood — of course — and the golden kung-fu savant that we have enjoyed for almost four full decades now, Chuck Norris.
Cinematic brilliance aside, Norris is the sole reason for my continued sanity. Every time he tugs a cowboy hat over his brow is an epiphany of realism and the infinite vastness that is America’s realizable optimism. His unwavering success and insistence upon a single basic hairstyle provides comfort and assurance that no interest rate reduction by Alan Greenspan could ever duplicate. Perhaps, if Greenspan were to move to Texas, wear a fedora and drive a pickup truck, he’d be more appealing to the masses. But, as long as he remains a staunch supported of the Tories, and Alexander Hamilton’s bank we will never fully trust him.
Who cares if Norris’ films lack not only a plot but also any sensibility? Creativity is inferior to the drug of conformity and the anti-drug policies of Nancy Reagan. Can you disagree? Certainly not I. Causation and continuity are mere abortions, as any true patriot would clearly see. If you think otherwise, be gone Communist infiltrator! Don’t mock our missile defense systems. Don’t preach of your false gods, inertia and gravity… cause and effect. People don’t hate us for any foreign policies; they are simply evil and plotting terrible things with fundamentally evil forces. Fear not, Reality and John Ashcroft will prevent Osama bin Laden from teaming up with those creepy bug-thing-aliens from Starship Troopers. Those bugs were at the least egalitarians, and therefore Swiss; and I have it on good authority that they were actually communists. Thank God the ape Doogie’ Howser was there to dress up like a Real Human being and save the day. Where would we be without the entertainment of teenage doctors in slap-stick comedy roles on a nightly basis?
Kabul, that’s right! The sole difference between our great Democracy — which is actually a Republic, but facts don’t matter — and the Taliban is our unwavering devotion to the failed genre that is situation-comedy, the black hole in a self destructive universe of prime-time-Deion-Sanders-television. Just ask any republican (or moderate-republican, as they now prefer to be called), it is obvious that any person can achieve anything they want if they just try hard enough. Are you homeless or slightly intoxicated? Well, you obviously didn’t try hard enough.
Fortunately, half the universe is devoted to either the reruns or newest infestations of the dumbing-down machine, the television. We all pretend that this bizarre device is a friend, perhaps even a family member. We talk to it, asking where the remote is and why The Professor is able to make radios out of bamboo and Ginger’s dental floss. And, in so doing we help keep the communists held up in Montana under seventeen miles of granite and pixie-sticks, exactly where the mole-people belong.
It’s a team effort, you see and there is no “Communism” in team. There is, however, an A, E and an M, which are all very important to the correct and non-Marxist spelling of “America.” Without those letters, we would instead have just “ric” and that wouldn’t make any sense, unless we add a “k” and make it a name or an “h” and make it the designation of those beautiful leaders of everything, the rich. Anyways, so without those letters which are important to both “team” and “America” we would have something which made no sense, and that means that it is un-American and against everything Mr. Ashcroft and Chuck Norris want us all to believe.
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