Mighty dorks and people with brains, I have just returned from Fahrenheit 9/11.
Bore you with a review? Nope. Go read a paper for America.
I will tell you that this ex-ameri-frat boy who once went after an innocent Clemson fan with a six iron because the dude "was totally hitting on me" actually got choked up at times. That means it was a good movie, you looking-for-the-deeper-meaning dorks.
I can sum up what I felt after the movie by what happened just minutes ago.
As I drove home I realized I was angry at the world we live in and thus needed to smoke. I had to destroy something and tobacco leaves are the easiest and least federally-crime-punished thing to burn.
So, I went into the 76 station near our apartment and got me some Doral Lights in a box.
The old white guy next to me with a "Something Important to Farmers and Republicans" hat on starts yelling.
"Dammit, shit! I lost my goddamned lighter!"
Hmmm, hey I don't have a lighter either.
So, to the middle-eastern guy behind the counter I say, "Hey, man, can I get a book of matches ... and give one to this guy so he stops cursing."
The nice gentleman hands me the matches and a pack to the other guy.
"Nope, I don't use matches. The sparks jump off the match and burn my clothes. (Really?) Matches are the most unsafe thing, I only use lighters. I don't want holes in my clothes ..."
"You know, cigarettes put holes in your LUNGS," I point out to this rambling aged Americana piece of work.
The middle-eastern guy behind the counter gets the joke and we share a laugh. The old white guy doesn't.
"Lungs? I don't care about my lungs. I got clothes and they are ..."
"Take it easy," I say and I leave.
And somewhere in that story is the point of Fahrenheit 9/11. The middle-easterners and the intelligent people of America get the joke. There are no WMDs. There was no threat from Iraq. There has been no justice since 9/11.
The people who don't care about that and who blindly follow their leaders and their inanerubberist philosophies ("Building a safer world through war"/"I don't use matches") are the rubberheads who are more concerned about the guises they take on (Soccer Mom, NASCAR Dad, Compasionate Conservative, Neo-Patriot) than their lungs or the hearts of the Moms who cry because of soldiers who die.
Put on your rubberkicking boots, dorks, it's time to save some Iraqi babies.
Weblog Commenting and Trackback by HaloScan.com