My America

GOD, LESS AMERICA

Whether they’re taped to the window of your local pepper spray boutique, stuck on the bumper of a P.T. Cruiser, or “bedazzled” onto the sweater of every substitute teacher from sea to murky sea, you can find them virtually everywhere: American flags. And what goes better with American flags than a big ol’ helping of the phrase, “God Bless America”? The two go hand in hand, like the Midwest and morbidly obese fat people.

It has become the incessant plea of a nation, a cry for help. Mostly it sounds like a demand: “God Bless America!”

God Bless America. What… more, you mean? For fuck’s sake, this is already the most blessed citizenry in the history of the world. Unless you include the initially blessed but then severely under-blessed Native American Indians, who, at one point, had all they could ever want — free, clean water, pemmican, and other bullshit like that — but then, for some unknown reason, gave it all up. (Anyway, this is America. Got it, Cochise? Now quit your bitchin’ and enjoy the loose slots.)

Seems you can’t walk 20 feet without seeing some variation of the flag waving around, all up in a brother’s face, being all flaggy and shit. Reminding people of what it looks like. What is this, May Day? Am I at a military parade in old-timey Russia? Now it goes without saying that the flag never looked better than when it is flapping around on a German-made “Sports Utility Vehicle” (key word: “sports”) driven by some cunt-flavored trophy wife scooting down her driveway to drop the help off somewhere near the bus station, but enough’s enough already. It’s time to start divvying up God’s abundant blessings with some of the less blessed countries we sort of share the planet with. I mean, even the inner-city, crack-addicted preemie, born in a toilet stall and abandoned an hour later in the snack-food aisle at Food 4 Less is automatically luckier than 98% of the rest of the world. So why don’t we help everyone else out by taking a “National Week Off From Praying To God.” I propose one full week of not yelling at God for help. Let’s let the third world have a crack at the big guy. Plus, maybe it’ll divert attention from this annoying notion of relieving their debt.

And also, consider America for a second. Whenever I hear a politician, priest, CEO, or any other common garden-variety evildoer say “God Bless America,” I think to myself, “Do they think God is blessing us because of, or, in spite of, the fact that this is a nation of atheists, socialists, homos, niggers, kikes, feminists, baby killers, and drug-addicted foreigners AND whores?” If America was a person it would be the coke-addled niece of some mega-millionaire that complained when their eggs didn’t have the right consistency and sent them back to the waiter without ever making eye contact (aka an asshole that you really want to beat the shit out of). It wouldn’t be so bothersome if these willfully ignorant, billboard-wearing parrots showed even the slightest bit of awareness as to exactly how they are able to live the pathetically uninteresting, Billy Joel-loving, TGIFridays Bloomin’ Onion-eating, Ben Affleck-movie-watching lives they lead. It sure ain’t because of the imaginary blessings of Invisible Grandpa (or “God,” as most people refer to him).

As the great social and political satirist Barry Crimmons once said after receiving the spit-filled vitriol of someone who didn’t agree with his jaundiced view of America and asked Barry, “Oh yeah? If you don’t like America so much, why don’t you move to another country?”:

“Because, I don’t want to be victimized by its foreign policy.”

God bless the USA.