I hate America and other adventures in the rag trade
I know that Ariana
Grande's declaration that she hates America
should offend me greatly, but since I'd never heard of her before she said that
she hated America I would
say that she has accomplished the purpose of her saying she hated America in the
first place: I have now heard of her. I still have no idea what she does, but
then I don’t get out much. I gather that she is some kind of entertainer, which
actually covers a lot of ground—entertainers these days run the gamut from
opera singers to baseball players to presidential candidates to porn stars, that
she is fairly young, and that I am probably not her target demographic. She may
even, for all I know, stand nude on her head atop the Army—Navy recruiting station
in Times Square and spit nickels at the
gawking crowds of tourists in the street below. Nickel spitting was very big in
the 1920’s, but fashions come and go, and so nickel spitting went the way of Prohibition,
the Charleston,
and the bee’s knees. This is
unfortunate, I think; when I was a boy, you could still see nickel spitters from
the Twenties plying their art at street fairs and carnivals, but they had no
followers, no novices eager to learn the arcane intricacies of the art, and so
nickel spitting had died out by the end of the first Bush presidency. I wish it
hadn’t; nickel spitting was fun to watch. There are few arts that provide as
much artistic fulfillment to the artist and financial rewards to the audience
as nickel spitting does. But I digress.
In any case,
the fact that Ariana Grande hates America is, for me, one of life's great
irrelevancies, right up there with knowing that aglets are those plastic tips
at the end of your shoelaces. The word may or may not have something to do with
Texas A&M and that university’s football team, the Aggies, but probably
does not; cowboy boots do not have shoelaces so the connection to Texas seems
tenuous at best, and it does not seem likely that the university would name a
girl’s team the Aglets. That sort of name smacks of sexism and there is nothing
that a modern American university wants to avoid more than anything else nowadays than someone
accusing it of an –ism. –Isms are very
bad, you see, and lead to upset stomachs and probably gas as well and therefore best avoided in the first place, if at all possible.
Labels: America, Ariana Grande, Audrey Bardou, baked goods, knuckleheads, political correctness, Roberta Vasquez, squirrels, toupees
1 Comments:
At 6:13 AM, SnoopyTheGoon said…
You, most probably, refer to the donuts licking accident:
http://edition.cnn.com/2015/07/09/entertainment/ariana-grande-donut-licking-america/
I have never tried to lick donuts, at least not in public. Maybe there is some substance on the donuts that causes some excessive hate, who knows. Anyhow, the first amendment, I believe, allows any spontaneous verbal expression of hate. Of course, the legislative body could add another amendment that makes an exception of superstar bimbos and other mentally challenged individuals. But then what about politicians?
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