When Will Jesus Bring the Pork Chops? (15 page)

Christian prayeragainst a billion fanatics who hate that country, detest its materialism and have nothing really to lose. Maybe fifty years ago, but not today when germs and chemicals and nuclear materials are for sale everywhere.

People who don’t give a shit and have nothing to lose will always prevail over people who are fighting for some vague sentiment scrawled on a piece of parchment. Folks, they’re gonna getcha; and it ain’t gonna be pleasant.

We can’t drop a five-thousand-pound bomb on every one of them. They will either run all over us or, in trying, they will turn us into even bigger monsters than we already are.

And don’t get all excited about this goofy idea, “the spread of democracy.1′ No matter who the United States puts in charge to bring peace and order in Iraq or Palestine or anywhere else, those people will be killed. Its that simple. Anyone who supports the United States will be killed. Peace and order will not be tolerated. Start saving your cash for the black market, folks, you’re gonna need it.

THE CHANNEL SEVEN EDITORIAL REPLY

ANNOUNCER: Channel seven recognizes its obligation to provide equal time to viewers who disagree with its editorial policy. Here, then, with an editorial reply, is Dr. Steven Wanker, a clinical psychologist. Dr. Wanker speaks as a private citizen.

DR. WANKER: Thank you. Are these channel seven people kidding? Hah? What kind of crap are they trying to pull? Did you hear that shit they said last week about the budget? Jesus Christ! I couldn’t believe it! What kind of assholes do they think we are?

And they’re always acting so self-righteous, like they know what’s good for us and we’re too stupid to think. I’m gettin’ tired of this shit. How about you? Hah? Fuck these people! Who do they think they are, with their goddamn three-piece suits and fancy eyeglasses?

And, by the way, do you know how long it takes to get one of these goddamn editorial replies on the air? Three fuckin’ years! Three years ago I started asking to do this shit! They kept sayin’, “Well, we’re not sure you’re stable enough to be allowed on the air.’ And I said, “Stable? What’re you fuckin’ people, crazy? I’m as stable as the next cocksucker!” I said to em, “Bend over and Til give you something’ stable!”

Fortunately, they were able to recognize the logic of my argument and here I am. But you know what I found out these assholes can do? They can cut you off the air if they want to. For instance, if they don’t like what you’re saying, they can just fuckin’ interru

ANNOUNCER: That was Steven Wanker, a clinical psychologist. Tune in to channel seven tomorrow night for another editorial reply, as schoolteacher Howard Boudreaux delivers an

opinion titled, “What’s All This Phony Bullshit about Drunk Driving?” And, later in the week, don’t miss Mayor Cosmo Drelling as he addresses another important issue: “What’s So Bad about Slavery?” Thank you, ladies and gentlemen. We now join Blotujobs of the Rich a?jd Famous in progress.

And later this evening, tune in Doctor Jim as he removes a wart from a lesbian.

KEEP TV FAMILYFREE

I’m always glad when some group of American hostages is released overseas, and they finally get to come home to their families. 1 him not glad because I particularly care about them, but because I get sick of hearing about them on TV, and I get sick of listening to their families. Jesus, did I get tired of all those whining hostage-families during that bullshit in Iran in the 1970s. “My husbands a hostage! The government’s not doing enough!”

Hey, lady, if you don’t want your husband to be a hostage, tell him to stay the fuck out of Iran or places like it in the first place. It’s a simple thing; you don’t have to be a theoretical physicist to figure it out. If you stay out of these places, you’ve got a good chance of not becoming a hostage.

And the media always refers to them as “innocent Americans.’ Bullshit. There are no innocent Americans. And whatever they are, they’re certainly not news. First thing you know, once they’re back they start writing books, one by one, and you have to endure the whole thing all over again,

seeing them on every talk show, regurgitating the whole fuckin’ boring story again.

Here are some more families I’m not interested in: astronauts’ families. Who cares about these people? Astronauts’ wives and children. They re not newskeep ‘em off TV. I don’t even care about the astronauts themselves. Anal-retentive robots wasting money in space. Andnot incidentally spreading our foul, grotesquely distorted DNA beyond this biosphere.

I say, keep the infection local. God! Haven’t we done enough damage on this planet? Now we’re going to go somewhere else and leave our filth and garbage all over the universe? Jesus, what a pack of fuckin’ idiots we are. Thank you.

SEEMS LIKE OLD TIMES: A DIALOGUE

KEVIN: Boy, a lot has changed in twenty years.

RAY: Yeah.

KEVIN: Is Naughton still around?

RAY: Frankie?

KEVIN: No, Jimmy.

RAY: Jimmy’s dead. And Frankie died at the funeral. They’re both dead.

KEVIN: What about Bobby? How’s he? RAY: He’s dead, too. A lot of em are dead.

KEVIN: What was the other Naughton kid’s name? Tommy? Is he dead?

RAY: No. Tommy’s not dead.

KEVIN: Thank God for that.

RAY: He’s dying.

KEVIN: Jeez! The mother must be heartbroken.

RAY: The mother was killed in a boiler explosion. Blown to pieces.

KEVIN: Jeez. I’ll never forget that house the Naughtons lived in. Kind of a cute little place with green shutters.

RAY: Hit by lightning fifteen years ago. Burned to the ground. All the pets were killed.

KEVIN: Jeez. That’s too bad. I remember the Naughtons always liked that house because it was so close to the church.

RAY: Our Lady of Perpetual Suffering?

KEVIN: Yeah.

RAY: The church is gone. Condemned by the city last year and demolished on Good Friday.

KEVIN: So where do the neighborhood kids go to school?

RAY: Most of the neighborhood kids were killed a few years ago by a rapist who worked at the grocery store.

KEVIN: Dorian’s?

RAY: No, Babington’s.

KEVIN: I liked Dorian’s. They always had good produce.

RAY: Dorian’s collapsed ten years ago and killed nineteen customers. The entire Halloran family was decapitated at the butcher counter while they were pickin’ out meat.

KEVIN: Jeez. Times really change. RAY: Well, life goes on.

REAL REALISM FOR REALISTS DRINK UP

I think the warning labels on alcoholic beverages are too bland. They should be more vivid. Here are a few I would suggest:

“Alcohol will turn you into the same asshole your father was.”

“Drinking will significantly improve your chances of murdering a loved one.”

“If you drink long enough, at some point you will vomit up the lining of your stomach.’

“Use this product and you may wake up in Morocco wearing a cowboy suit and tongue-kissing a transmission salesman.”

“Men: When emptying your pockets after a night of using this product, you may come across a human finger, a wad of Turkish money and a snapshot of a naked ex-convict named Dogmeat. The photo will be inscribed, ‘To Dave, my new old lady.’”

“Women: Drink enough of this and you will spend the rest of your life raising malnourished children in a rusting trailer with a man who sleeps all day. Except for the rapes.”

GOD REST HIS SOUL

Newspaper death notices could also be written more honestly. Have you seen the lies they print? “Cherished and beloved husband of Kathleen, devoted and esteemed father of Thomas; loving brother of Edward”? Bullshit. Let’s be realistic:

“Ryan, James D.; jealous and abusive husband of Kate; lustful, wanton father of Maureen; controlling and manipulative father of Matthew; cruel, envious and conniving brother of Thomas, died yesterday to the great relief of the family. May he burn a long time in the worst parts of the deepest pits of the hottest precincts of hell. It is good to have him out of our lives.

“Funeral at the Church of the Holy Bleeding Wounds, burial in Crown of Thorns Cemetery. No flowers; donations should be made in cash directly to the family for purposes of celebration.”

ON BENDED KNEE

This idea could spread. It might even inspire young men to make more realistic marriage proposals: “Honey, let’s get married. I realize I’m asking you to take a chance on a proven loserI don’t have any money or stuff like thatbut maybehear me outmaybe we could find a cheap, unclean apartment in a dangerous neighborhood and have more kids than we can afford. If we’re lucky, maybe a few of them won’t be born sickly and disfigured, in spite of our genetic histories. Meanwhile, I could find a dehumanizing, low-paying, dead-end job with no benefits, while you stay home watching TV and gaining weight.

“And if things get badlike if I get paralyzed, and you get raped by Mexican sailors and lose your mind and start crying all the timewe can always move in with my parents. They love kids, and their incest counsel

ing is almost complete. And I’ve noticed Dads ‘episodes’ are starting to result in far less property damage than before. What do you say, honey? You want to give it a shot? Maybe our second set of HIV tests will turn up negative.”

EARLY BOARDING: Children

If I may renew a theme found elsewhere in the book, I have a bit more to say about early boarding on the airlines. It’s not just favoritism to the “disabled” that bothers me; that’s unfair enough. But! Immediately after the various cripples, limpers and wheelchair jockeys have been unfairly allowed to board early, the airline then has the nerve to allow people with children to get on the plane. Once again, at the expense of the rest of us. I do not understand this policy at all.

Why should people board early simply because they have children? What’s so special about having kids? After all, a lot of kids are accidents; many people wind up with children simply because they’re unlucky. Is that something we should be rewarding? I don’t think being careless in bed should qualify someone for special treatment on an airplane.

And by the way, as with the devious methods of the cane-and-crutch crowd mentioned earlier, I think there are some couples who bring their kids along on a trip for the sole purpose of early boarding. What other reason would you have for including kids on a trip? Enjoyment? Hardly.

In factand this may seem extreme to someit’s my conviction that there are some couples who have intentionally gotten married and had families specifically for the purpose of getting on the plane early. I know it sounds unlikely to you, but don’t forget, these are cold, pragmatic, striving yuppie-boomers; unsentimental people who largely regard children as props and

commodities, anyway: “Honey, let’s have a kid, so we can board planes early.” “Great idea, Scott! You start making a list of good preschools, and I’ll get the lubricating jelly.” Believe me, it happens more than you may think.

So, during this preflight, pre-boarding fiasco, after the crippled and the maimed have been safely strapped in, the airline people tell us they will now “preboard passengers traveling with small children.” Well, that’s fine as far as it goes, but what about passengers traveling with large children? Suppose you have a six-month-old son with a growth-hormone disorder? One of those seven-foot infants with oversized heads that you see in the National Enquirer. Actually, with a kid like that I think you’re better off checking him in at the curb, don’t you? He’d probably enjoy it in the luggage compartment. It’s dark in there, and I would imagine he’s used to that.

But I digress. Forgive me for indulging my weakness for flights of colorful narration. Back to the real problem: people with children on airplanes. Here’s how you solve this. You make the following announcement:

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is a pre-boarding announcement only. We would like to address those of you who, both today and in your lives generally, find yourselves burdened with needy and annoying children. We sympathize with you, but as long as you’ve decided to drag them along with you to Pittsburgh, we wish to minimize the inconvenience of their presence to the rest of us. Here is what is going to happen:

“First of all, you’re getting on lastif there’s room. Before that, we’re going to board the full-grown humans and allow them to settle in, get comfortable and have a drink or two. You may be standing out here for an hour or more. Then, you and your children will be swiftly escorted onto the aircraft and placed in a special, soundproof, walled-off area in the rear of the plane. There will be standing room only. For safety purposes, you will be tethered to one another and secured to the wall with leashes and straps.

“More than likely, there will not be any food left for you, but your children will be allowed to scavenge the trays of those passengers who did not finish their meals. Aside from that food service, you will be left alone and expected to keep the children quiet.

“And now, we ask that you please gather your precious creatures around you, and, when you hear the whistle, see to it that they move smartly and swiftly onto the plane, remaining quiet and avoiding any eye contact with grown-ups. Thank you for flying the friendly skies of Sensible Airlines.”

TRAFFIC ACCIDENTS NEVER HANG AROUND

I don’t often write about my own experiences; it’s not my style. But I had a recent incident in traffic that I’d like to tell you about. And before I begin, there are a couple of things you ought to know about me: I drive kind of recklessly, I take a lot of chances, I never maintain my vehicles and I don’t believe in traffic laws. And so, because of these practices, I tend to have what a picky person would probably refer to as a lot of traffic accidents.

And wouldn’t you know, last week I ran over a sheep.

Or, possibly, I ran over a small man wearing a sheepskin coat. I’m not sure, really, because I didn’t stop. That’s another rule of mine: I never stop when I have a traffic accident. Do you? No. You can’t. Who has time? Not me.

If I hit something, or I run somebody over, I keep moving! Especially if

I’ve injured someone. I refuse to involve myself in other people’s injuries. I’m not a doctor, I’ve had no medical training; I’m just another guy, out, driving around looking for a little fun. And I can’t be stopping for everything.