A Prideful and Decorative Waste of Metal

by Regis Boff

I believe that we are victims of two competing conspiracy’s, one involves aerodynamics and the other human spoken interchange. Our country’s war against wind resistance and that battle’s bitch, the conservation of fuel has done to automobiles what regimented, politically-correct speech has done to interpersonal relationships,and that is, made them bland.
I can no more tell a Lexus from a Honda from a distance of more than fifty feet than I can confirm how interesting a person might be after a two hour politely regimented conversational exchange with them.
Call me crazy but I long to hurt the feelings of people who deserve it, particularly when there is no chance of them hearing me do it it. How could this be? Because that is the stuff of humanity! All the world’s great literature is about tearing each other apart. Who’s dazzling idea was it for us all to become so sensitive? ( This is the point at which, forty years ago, I would have said , “Some Girl’s?” but now women are meaner and I am afraid of them, so I can’t.)
I am the same with cars. I want my car’s functionless and prideful decorative waste of metal to spread across at least two lanes of every highway and leave an atmospheric muck so thick it reeks of my manhood. The Earth has no business demanding that we take care of it so let it fend for itself. Is it planning to apologize up front for the next Ice Age? Don’t hold your breath.
We need to toughen up . If there is one thing that is certain here in good old America, political correctness has made us more viciously divided than at anytime since the Civil War. I don’t like these people who don’t like me. If they want to live a hermaphroditic life in neutrally prettified caves, well God bless them, but count me out. Your enemies know you by sight so give me a good reason why they shouldn’t hear you as well?