I got an email from my brother-in-law this morning and I am still laughing!
The email, picture attached in the body of the email, says the following:
“The Pentagon announced today the formation of a new 500-man elite fighting unit called the United States Redneck Special Forces (USRSF).”
Then comes the picture of a guy standing in front of a truck with VA license plate mind you, and he’s holding what looks to be a Soviet WWII anti-tank rifle. The weapon is about 7 ft. long and he is cradling it in his arms.
Below the picture is found the following:
“These mostly Southern boys will be dropped off in Iraq and will be given only the following facts about terrorists:
1. The season opened today.
2. There is no limit.
3. They taste just like chicken.
4. They don’t like beer, pickups, country music or Jesus.
5. They are directly responsible for the death of Dale Earnhardt.
The Pentagon expects the problem in Iraq to be over by Friday.
Applications are available at your local Wal-Mart sporting goods counter.”
How funny is that? But despite the hilarity of the photo and especially the script, there is a far more telling issue here. Sure the email is a joke, but isn’t it interesting that Southerners are depicted as the ones who can take care of “the problem in Iraq by Friday?”
And this isn’t just about Southerners in my mind, although the email was clearly a slap and a compliment at the same time, but I think moreover this sentiment speaks to all the people of the less complicated countryside and villages all over this nation. It speaks to the independence of Americans, to our sense of national pride and especially the ability of these folks to get the damned job done.
We non-big brained and far less nuanced types are far more likely to handle it on our own, whereas a bunch of urban types wanna get together and chat, ruminate, brain storm and nuance there way out of whatever challenge they face. Not us. Piss us off and we’ll just stomp ya, and I’ll be damned if to me that sounds just right!
The greatness of America, as traditionally considered, is one of a complete lack of egg-headed nuance. Our traditional national persona was one of “Have trouble? Call the Americans – they’ll fix it!” And I liked that! I liked being the most virtuous and trusted of all nations. I liked and took great pride in being so fortunate as to be an American. Jingoism all the way Baby!
If ya ask me the sentiment in this email is Hank Williams‘ “A Country Boy Can Survive,” and Merle Haggard’s “When you’re running down my country you are walking on the fighting side of me!” as the line in one of his really old songs goes. Yeah, I know you big thinkers are loving this. I am confirming all your oft repeated and deeply held, yet totally erroneous opinions that we non-urban types are below your level of big-brained thought processes. Think again.
The non-urban American is a different breed of cat, thus you don’t understand them, and as is so commonly the case, you defame and ridicule that which you do not understand. Oh yeah, that’s so damned inclusive of you.
Before the cancer of Progressivism our nation was a fairly simple concept. Allow the citizens complete autonomy in our political, social and economic discourse. In the past if the US said it, it was done. Not now. The Progressive mind set has caused us to have to consult everyone and everything on our way to a decision. We have to consider just who’s ass needs to be licked in any endeavor upon which we embark. Is there any wonder why me & mine rail against this crap? We aren’t much in the way of ass lickers, but since you big-brainy ones are, maybe you could hook us up here!
To best see this nation through these hard times, I have a suggestion, and a damned fine one too, even if i do say so myself! Wanna fix all this domestic and international crap?
You brainy ones present to us, the straight forward, get’rdone types, the issue and we will figure out how to address the issue. Someone need killin’? Call us! Someone need to be reminded what the US stands for? Call us! Spending out of control? We can fix that. Balancing your checkbook wearing out that big brain? Yep – we can fix that too!
Want our enemies to cower in fear, and I mean the kind of fear where your autonomic systems let loose, ya know, where ya soil yourself? Call us. Want the world to operate on the “my word is my bond,” mindset, just let us know. That’s how we do business with each other, and we’re pretty sure your nuanced frontal lobes can grasp that, right?
Want to fix the unemployment problems? Reduce taxes on small business and we’ll take care of it. Want to spur economic growth? Give us our money and let us decide what to do with it, instead of you lame brains figuring that one out for us. Want the terrorists to fear us instead of laughing at us over Gitmo and all the sissified nonsense? We can make that problem go away real soon too, but we will need you big brained to get involved and help us out.
Here’s what y’all can do to help us: You identify the issue. You crook your brow, wring your hands and make a public spectacle out of the dilemma and your “concern” over it. You gather all your little clucking hens together and y’all talk it death. As well we need for you smart cats to lick the asses of the idiots who need such – ya know, so you can put on your show of concern and the public spectacle of your egg-headed ways, and last, get the Hell out of our way. We’ll take over from here.
So given my plain-spoken resolutions for all this falderall, any chance y’all are more wedded to getting things done than forwarding your nuanced, concerned and hand wringing ways? Based on what we have seen since the Pelosi Congress and now the first Messianic Presidency, seems you uber monster brained “givers of the light,” are going to take this nation to the pits of Hell before you will man up and admit your ideas are to successful governance what a chastity belt is to the successful propagation of the species.
For such a bunch of the uber enlightened, big thinkers, some of y’all’s rhetoric leaves me to wonder if you cats are smart enough to not drown in a glass of water, ya know?
