28 August 2005

Why They Hate Us

Portions of this post have been previously published in the comments section of HarryThe SlasherHutton’s blog. I’m republishing here for two reasons. 1). I feel this will generate a good bit of hate mail, which is always good, and 2). I’m far too hung-over & lazy to come up with anything new today..

Well, Why do they hate us?

There are the obvious reasons; David Hasslehoff taking valuable camera time away from Pamela Anderson’s boobies, and lite beer. There are of course, the reasons the hippies come up with; imperialism, globalism, barber-ism… ("Dude, get away from my dreads with those fascist dog clippers"). However, there is a third, and I think, more compelling answer.

Hasslehoff and Lite Beer

For the first reasons, I can only say guilty as charged. Hasslehoff should must be banished to a recording studio (a concession to the Germans who would otherwise not join the Coalition nations) on Alcatraz where he will be fed only tofu and lite beer. Baywatch will then consist only of shots of Pamela Anderson’s upper torso as she jogs up the beach in slow motion.

Well, that’s the easy one sorted.

Yankee Yellow-Running-Dog Imperialism!

I must admit that I am getting rather tired of people slagging Yankee imperialism.

British imperialism was fine, but genteel garden parties and floggings are sooo fin de siècle.

It took Yanks to drag imperialism into the 21st century, and just look what we’ve done with it!

We’ve added comfortable leather bucket seats with arse warmers, power steering, air conditioning and cup holders! YES! CUP HOLDERS!! BIG ONES TO HOLD THOSE MASSIVE FOUNTAIN BEVERAGES!!!

We’ve thrown in some graceful melodic tunage like Rob Zombie, Insane Clown Posse and Rage Against my Allowance, and there you have a perfectly pimpaliscious ride that can be used to go around the world, dropping McDonald’s restaurants on campesinos, simultaneously scrumping their sweet, sweet, crude oil and forcing their orphans to work in sweat shops (honestly, who would have thought there was a market for sweat? Entrepreneurs amaze me with their foresight).

Now, I ask you; what would you have if those Russkies had their way?

Borscht stands dropped on the Oiligarch bourgeoisie from the back of Trabbies, that's what! (Yes, Steve, I know they have Stoly, but that's for the party Apparatchiks, or those with hard currency).

I, for one, would rather have the deep fried bacon and arteriosclerosis sammich and so should the rest of the world. And that pretty much puts paid to the Hippie argument.

The Real Reason While They Hate Us

Let’s face it, our nation was conceived in gigglery and dedicated to the proposition that we should be as irritating as possible to all. As King George III himself said:

”You Colonists aren’t nearly as funny as you think you are!”

To which we, along with the kid who was destined to become Australia, erupted in a gale of poorly concealed snickers.

Right. Now I’ve stoked your ire! “Evil, you great, bulbous rectal wart!” You must be saying to yourselves. “It was about liberty; about unfair taxation!”

To which I say bollocks! A two penny tax on a pound of tea? Hell, I believe that it speaks volumes of our current tax codes that one must pay a sales tax on condoms, yet hemorrhoidal suppositories are tax free. It’s as if the IRS is saying: “We won’t tax this; we’ve already taxed the poo out of your bunghole, and you're going to need some relief.”

I speak for everyone who truly understands the unidirectional nature of the sphincter, when I say that I’d really rather spend a bit more for tea.

No, I think the founding fathers got a little drunk one night and decided to play a trick on King George. They sent an atrociously spelt letter (the letter “s” often replaced with “f”, “aluminium” spelt without the final “i” and a quite rude limerick, where the final “u” was dropped from “noxious anal vapour”) in which they expressed their displeasure.

When the Royal Navy came to investigate, the founding fathers then claimed that they were Philipinos, and that the R.N. must have made a terrible navigational error. Thew founding fathers went on to order a gross of pizzas to be delivered to the court of St. James.
Eventually, Great Britain decided on the “Don’t respond, you’ll only encourage them” strategy and the founding fathers were forced to find new playmates.

“Let’s try France!” They decided. “We’ll repeat everything they say!”

“We are the Greatest Nation on Earth!” Declared the son of the son of the Sun King.

“We are the Greatest Nation on Earth!”

"No, WE are!" Said Louis XVI.

"No, WE are!"

“Stop repeating what We say!” Shouted Louis, with specks of foamy spittle forming at the corners of his mouth.

“Stop repeating what We say!”



It got to the point that when the American delegation presence was announced to Marie Antoinette, she responded “Let them eat caca!” A hard-of-hearing peasant gardener overheard, and the rest is history.

There was a boring period when France ignored us too, but that soon passed.

When Monroe’s administration explained the Monroe doctrine to the French, he included the passage “Hey, isn’t that Robespierre standing behind you?
HA! Made you look!”

Even, in the late 19th century after France had given us the Statue of Liberty, it was fashionable to taunt the French with such phrases as:

“Hey! We invented deep fat frying!” To which Escoffier gave his famous reply:

"Je le sais bien que je suis sans habillement; je veux simplement savoir comment rentrer à l'hôtel" (“No you didn’t, you fat, ignorant Americans. It was the Ancient Greeks.”)

Since then, we’ve gone on to bother other countries, such as our mocking the Russians (“Our German scientists are better than your German scientists!”), however, we still hold a special place in our hearts for the French.

This propensity for nation irritation has become the central theme in our foreign policy; and I, for one, heartily approve.

Honestly, if you custom built a country for me, you couldn’t do better than the States. As I used to say in my childhood days:

“I'm not touching you!

“I'm not touching you!

“I'm not touching you!

“I'm not touching you!

“I'm not touching you!

“I'm not touching you!

“I'm not touching you!"

And that's the way I likes it.