None Dare Call It Wack

I LOVE America. My love for America runs so deep and hard that you couldn't possibly understand the strength of my patriotism. You might think you do, but you don't. You don't, and you never will. NEVER NEVER NEVER. So just quit trying. Asshole.

Though people will never comprehend the size of my star-spangled stiffy, it's important that they are at least aware of it. After all, if you love America but nobody knows about it, what's the fucking point? Unobtrusive patriotism neither supports your troops nor intimidates your neighbors.

In Charlotte, North Carolina, people know this. That's why they have established "I Love America Day" on March 19th. The holiday's founder says she started I Love America Day "because more than two months pass before Memorial Day without a patriotic holiday". Indeed, studies have shown that per capita patriotism dips to dangerously low levels during this blame-America-first time period.That's disgraceful. That sound you hear is George Washington puking into his fedora.

An organization called Flags Across The Nation is putting on a patriotic art display on I Love America Day. Their slogan reads "Promoting Patriotism Through The Arts". So far, so good. Jesse Helms once declared "Art is no damn good"; however, an exception must be carved out for art birthed in service of the state. But before you go prematurely showering Flags Across The Nation with love like I did, get this: their Patriotic Art Contest is only open to children. No adults need apply! What in the name of Danny Fuckin' Bonaduce is that shit?

Now, I understand the need to influence youth through mandatory patriotism. I have no problem with their participation in this art contest. But to exclude every other red-semened American from competing is an injustice far greater than anything Marvin Gaye "had a dream" about. Flags Across The Nation have instituted an extreme form of affirmative action solely to benefit "victimized Juvenile-Americans". I have alerted Ward Connerly to this latest politically-correct cockblock to achieving a truly age-blind society.

Not only does this contest promote age-ism; it threatens America's very security. By forbidding adults from entering the Children's Patriotic Art Contest, they are endangering America. They will be celebrating patriotic art created by children, who, sorry to say, are the people least intellectually equipped to convey ideas. If science has tought us nothing else -- and it hasn't -- it's that children are simply inferior to adults. Hey, don't get mad - I'm just saying what everybody's thinking.

Given the inadequacy of children, to entrust them with the vitally important task of conveying American patriotism to enemy liberals, foreign and domestic, is so thoroughly irresponsible as to be tantamount to treason. I KNOW my Ameri-art would totally kick the ASS of any candy-ass children's art. But does Fags Across The Nation care that first prize rightfully belongs to me? Judging by the tone of their response to my rageful man-mail, NO!

With this, my boldly testicular pièce de résistance, America can feel proud once more.


Fuck Charlotte.

Why We Surge: Penile Clarity in the War On Liberalism.

Gentlemen, I sit before you tonight in a fetid pool of my own man-angst. Our country is facing a formidable set of foes, and the toxic triumvirate of Islamocommunism, feminism and homosexuality are giving Uncle Sam a gangbanging, the memory of which he will have one hell of a time repressing.

This vaginal year of our Lord, 2007, opened with Nancy Pelosi wielding the Speaker's gavel as a political tampon, soaking up the crimson war dreams of us Red-statists for disposal in the latrine of moral relativist equivalence. This coincided with the revelation that we're not winning the Iraq war - a war we were winning just a few weeks prior. Man hint: the reason for the sudden downturn in our war fortunes has much to do with the hail of doubt fire raining down on Old Glory in the form of estrogen-fueled Dummycrat negativism.

Now, if you know me, you're aware that I am man enough to admit to stuff, like when I admitted that Republicans are awesome. But now, circumstances are such that I have to admit something bad: liberals are gaining momentum. This is shown in the fact that, according to a recent poll taken on the war, 61% of Americans are anti-American. Under the sway of sodomite Saddamites, a majority of Americans now favor giving themselves a black eye. Why are you hitting yourself, America? Why are you hitting yourself?

In the morass of this limp-wristed self-abuse, leave it to our cocksure ComMANder In Chief to polish America's sword and prime its seamen for the long haul. Bush is not about to let America defy America's will to win. Surge is more than just a bright green soft drink from the late 90's. It is a plan for victory. Victory at home, that is. Let me man-splain.

It may well be the case that 20,000 additional US troops won't be sufficient to turn Iraq into a cradle of equality, religious tolerance and enlightenment like Alabama. But that's not really the point. This is about a larger and ultimately even better war: the Culture War. Ever since the 60's, the authority of white Christian men has been eroded by the permissive subversion of beatnik hippie mod gangsta raver punk freaks. Thanks to "victimized" interest groups like "women", "gays", and "Hebrews", Anglo-American dude-iful swagger suffered the syphilitic arrows of outrageous outrage. Yet was it not this very butchification that made America the most badass planet in the solar system?

Despite their impudence, we didn't have the leftists all executed. In response, did these whiny slackers show us due gratitude? Oh no they didn't! A simple "Thanks for not having us all executed" was apparently too much to ask. Instead, WE were forced to get used to THEM being both "here" and "queer".

After the potheads spent decades emasculating America through agitation, appeasement, and rejecting us for dates, haters of Western nads abroad were emboldened. The results of this were seen on the unforgettable day of September the 11th, 2002 (2001? 2000? whenever) - Islamocommies severed two glistening, rigid pillars of American potency. This attack shouldn't have surprised anyone. After all, if our domestic effeminate elitists don't fear our patriotic machismo, why would scary Middle-Easterners do so?

It took leaders with manful souls like Bush, Cheney and Condi to understand this. Normal Americans yearned to stop being shamed for being born white, Protestant and totally not defensive about their sexuality. The old societal order, having one ball in the grave, was in crisis. THAT - the existential crisis of testosteronepolitik - is why we had to invade Iraq. Of course that stuff about WMDs was bullshit, but you hippies weren't supposed to POINT THAT OUT! The cake's not yellow, it's CHICKEN!!!

So invaded Iraq we didst. America's enemies, within and without, were shocked and awed by our explosive geo-virility. But the freak-flagged foes of penile clarity birthed a rear-guard assault from their wobbly wombs. With IEDs and ironic quips blemishing the Erectile Restoration, the authorities are being made to look foolish. God-engorged manpower is under withering assault, and not just from terrorists and lesbians, but from demographic shifts, illegal immigration, the War On Christmas, music I don't understand, single mothers, satire, China, the immoral yet intoxicating allure of gay pornography, etc.

Dear friends, we are on the verge of losing the CONTROL we WASPs were lead to believe we deserved. Control over those who require our testicular guidance - even control over ourselves is at stake. That's why this surge is needed. It's not about suppressing Sunni-Shiite sectarianism. I couldn't even type that sentence without yawning. No, it's about making a last stand for the credibility of Manhood. Writing our names in the sand, we stalwart cyber-spawn of the spores of Bill Buckleyism stand athwart post-modern post-traumatic post-pardum history, yelling "I'M RELEVANT!"

Yea, verily, let our testiculation reverberate through the certitude-averse cervixes of ye who would have ME question MY identity and MY truths.

One last opportunity to shoulder the White Cock's Burden.

YOU DON'T KNOW ME.

In which I try to cheer you up.

I've been away on man leave for a bit, but in my absence, I doubt you needed an explanation of just what a tragic week this has been for the besieged ideals of patriotism, masculinity and marble ceilingism. I know you wanted one, though, so I'll give you one. But not quite yet. For now is the time for us manful blog-warriors to keep our pride-swollen heads up above the depressing waters of Democrat defeatism. I will not let you mope when we still have so much to make others fight for.

In this spirit of resilience and cheer, I present unto you an anti-naysaying anthem for the ages; the kind you don't see on liberal TV screens.


(Tips For Teens - Sparks)

Words of insight calling to mind the best of Ayn Rand and Edmund Burke:

I've got a snapshot of your aunt Maureen.
She's ninety and you're a teen.
I'm trying to cheer you up. Don't be so mean.
Don't be so mean.