What It Means to be a U.S. Citizen

Those who enter the country illegally violate the law." —George W. Bush, Tucson, Ariz., Nov. 28, 2005

What's that snarling City Hall traffic? Mass amounts of illegals protesting the new immigration bill. I can sympathize. New Yorkers need the "underground economy" (as the Post so gently puts it) or else the city would collapse. Hell, I need the "underground economy" to keep my apartment clean. But I'm not here to give a political rant. I'm here to tell you just what it takes to be a U.S. citizen. This link below links to the U.S. citizenship test, or at least something that can pass for it. To be a citizen, one must know certain facts such as "What Country did the U.S. Fight in the Revolutionary War", "Which of the following was not one of the original 13 U.S. states", and "How many times can a Senator be re-elected".

Which makes me wonder ... how many Americans would fail the U.S. Citizenship test? According to a 2002 study, 11% of 18-24 year-old Americans can't even find America on a map! 70% couldn't find New Jersey, but that might not be such a bad thing. Also, about 2/3 of Americans don't know all the words to our own national anthem, and only 5% of Americans have passports.

Anders Henriksson, a history professor at Sheperd University in Sheperdstown, West Virginia, routinely receives essays from college freshmen containing such gems as the following:

"Wars fought in the 1950s and after include the Crimean War, Vietnam, and the Six-Minute War";

"At some point in the distant past, the United States fought a war of independence against a major European or Asian power"; and

"John F. Kennedy worked closely with the Russians to solve the Canadian Missile Crisis."

America doesn't have a problem with illegal immigrants. America has a problem with stupid people. At least the illegal immigrants can be paid below minimum wage, under the table, to do the jobs that Stupid America is too lazy to do.

So, why the hell is America so goddamn stupid? Sure, we can blame Hollywood, television, and popular culture. Take "Pearl Harbor", for example. When the bombings start, one man yells loudly on a telephone, "I think World War 2 has just started!" Moron. What we now know as "World War 2" was NOT referred to "World War Two" back then. That's as stupid as making a movie about the events of September 11, 2001 and having some hapless victim yell, "Help! I think 9/11 is happening!" The news media is also culpable in this regard. News is now as much entertainment as it is information, so much to the extent that Katie Couric, a woman who dressed as Marilyn Monroe and SpongeBob for Halloween, is now following in Walter Cronkite's footsteps as a 6-o-clock news anchor.

Stay classy, America.

But, like Al Bundy used to say, "It's not the dress that makes you look fat, it's the fat that makes you look fat" -- it's not The Media, or Red Staters, or The Sad State Of Public Schools that makes Americans look stupid, it's Americans that make Americans look stupid. Before granting immigrants a visa to this country, we ask them, "Were you in or around the area of Nazi Germany between 1939 and 1945?" Our national pastime's championship is called the "World" series, yet no teams from outside the U.S. are participants. Our other national pastime calls itself "Football", yet other than for field-goal kicking and punting, rarely do the foot and ball make contact while the game is being played. We have a president who thinks Nigeria is a continent (note how that did not prevent me from voting for him twice).

God bless America. God bless us, every one.

May 19 Is Shitty Movie Day

Thank you for ruining Star Wars, you skank.

Why is it that the movie gods choose this day to crap out the stinkiest cinematic turds? For example, two of the three new Star Wars movies were released on a May 19, which is enough to solidify this day as International Shitty Movie Day until the second coming of Jesus.

So, let's see what foulness Hollywood is shitting, err, birthing out on this Day?

"Over the Hedge": Some DreamWorks animated crap that's bound to make your kids stupider, as if living in most parts of America wasn't doing a good enough job of that already. Bruce Willis, who hasn't turned a good trick since "Die Hard 2", is headlining this sludge of ass gravy. But the real tragedy about this movie is William Shatner. You're Captain fuckin' Kirk, man! You did Joan Collins in 1932! You continue to add your good name to cinematic fecal matter like this, and a pox on you.

"The DaVinci Code": Two ginormous billboards defile Columbus Circle and Times Square urge us to "be a part of the phenomenon". No, thank you. It's not that I didn't enjoy the book. I gobbled that literary Big Mac right up, gimmicky plot twists and all. I didn't even bitch about the so-called inaccuracies. To me, the biggest "inaccuracy" in the book was the idea that a 30something native Parissenne would be appalled at the idea of a sex rite. Mr. Brown: she's from Paris, France, not Paris, Texas.

I guess what amuses me so much about "the phenomenon" is the fallout. Apparently, everyone from the God Squad to albinos (yes, albinos!) are getting a bee in their bonnet about this. Take Rev. Bob Carr, of St. Benedict Parish in Somerville, Mass., who decries the novel as a "bunch of crap" that "reflects an ignorance of everything that people have known about who Jesus is for the past 2,000 years." Sorry, Bob-a-rino, this is a work of AIRPLANE FICTION. It's a dumbed-down version of Foucault's Pendulum. It's probably rife with historical and artistic inaccuracies aside from the whole Were-Jesus-And-Magdalene-Doing-It debate, but when you're on your fifth G&T and only 1/3 of the way between JFK and LHR, you really don't care. Strangely, the fans of this book are stupider than its critics. One Amazon reviewer gushed: "The Da Vinci Code is so much more than a gripping suspense thriller. Dan Brown takes us beyond the main plot and leads us on a quest for the Holy Grail - a Grail totally unlike anything we have been taught to believe." Another raved: "This book is one of the best novels I've read in recent years. It's engrossing and highly entertaining. It's the proverbial page-turner guaranteed to keep you up late at night because you just can't put it down. The characters are well drawn. The plot twists come so often and so fast my brain got whiplash reading the book (NO, NOT REALLY!)." Umm, no. An Indiana Jones knockoff, a beautiful green-eyed, red-haired woman who wears glasses to display her intelligence, and a British villian...now, that's creative.

By the way, May 19 also happens to be my birthday.

Any Skiiers Out There?

Logic suggests that when one speaks of "snow" in April that one is speaking of the kind that you buy by the ounce in the back of Uncle Ming's. But logic doesn't dictate the weather in New York in the springtime. Sunday was a glorious spring day in the Park. I went for my daily run in my shorts. I lolled about on the grass making fun of passers-by and cursed the moron who almost knocked over my Gatorade with his ill-thrown football. Ah, spring.

But, the events of 4/5/2006 will forever be burned in my memory.

7:30 AM: I wake up and go for my daily run.
9:30 AM: I leave for work. It's cloudy out. The news ticker in Times Square (where my office is unfortuantely located) mentioned something about snow being in the forecast. I dismiss it as bullshit.
10:21 AM: I look outside and it's flurrying. I yell to my assistant, "It's snowing!" This could be fun.
11:16 AM: I look outside and it's blizzard-like conditions. In a frenzy, I e-mail all my friends (especially those in warm climates) and start snapping pictures of the snowstorm with my camera phone.
11:20 AM: A friend emails me to say she's got a blacket wrapped around her. They really breed 'em tough in corporate Manhattan.
11:56 AM: Friend in California ridicules me for my choice of cities to live in.

THERE'S A SNOWSTORM IN APRIL! AND IT'S GOT NOTHING TO DO WITH THE COKE!

3:08 PM: Sky is blue. Birds are chirping. No trace of aforementioned snowstorm. Mother Nature, you big bad bitch.

National Chumps?

Oh, March. You started off so promising. You gave us Bradley over Kansas and Northwestern State over Iowa in a buzzer-beater that you just can't script. You gave us an epic Washington-UCONN game that fans of both teams will remember for a very long time. You gave us Miracle Mason in the Final Four.

So why on God's green earth did you stick us with two clunkers like Florida and UCLA for the national title? The selection committee is partially to blame. Sticking a fairly strong UCLA team in a bracket with the weakest #1 seed (Memphis), a historic choker (Gonzaga), and a team that blew its load in its conference championship (Kansas) almost destroys all the karma you built up when you gave GMU the chance to dance. And fuck you, Morrison. You had 17 points on the Bruins and you let it slip away. You let UCLA and their boring brand of basketball (that they, admittedly, are good enough at times to impose successfully on others) take the day, and now they're in the final.



I hate to say this, but I'd much rather have seen the much-predicted "good versus evil" Duke-UCONN showdown than this mess. I'd also have rather seen Gonzaga-UCONN (or Gonzaga-anyone) for that matter; Mustache Morrison leading a mid-major into the national championship for the first time would have been historic to see.

And what of UNC-Texas? The mighty Longhorns going not only for the triple crown (football, baseball, and now basketball national championships) but to dash the repeat dreams of yet another defending champ. The only saving grace of this tourney is Joakim "Poor! Hungry! Driven! Hoo-AH!" Noah and his afro to entertain us.

It's almost enough for me to wish that college basketball had the BCS. Almost.

What Not to Wear

Put down the AmEx. Step away from the $300 designer jeans. Do not even entertain the thought of purchasing that poncho "Just Because Sienna Miller Wore One In InStyle." MEN DO NOT CARE WHAT YOU WEAR! Repeat after me: MEN DO NOT CARE WHAT YOU WEAR. To most men, Tocca is the name of a toy truck manufacturer, Jimmy Choo is a Nobel-prize winning geneticist, Thomas Pink is a character from Reservoir Dogs, and Asprey is a bird of prey. They think the Burberry plaid is for rappers, that Pucci prints are loud and ugly, and that Lilly Pulitzer's happy dancing animals are the brainchild of bad acid.

$1,490.00. That's a hell of a lot of Coors Lights, boys.

So, why do we devotedly flock to SoHo and Bloomingdale's like the average fly-over stater attends church? It sure can't be to up our frequent-flyer mile tally. It's because we just can't get it through our thick heads that no matter how fashionable we think we need to look to get mens' attention, we're forgetting that Inalienable Life Truth: MEN WANT SEX. They don't care if it comes in a Bergdorf's or a K-mart bag. As long as you're wearing something that accentuates those ol' mammalry glands, your money's no good at any bar.

America's Next D-Lister, Ms. Pickler, prom-ready

Why not just wear tube tops and black sex pants (i.e. the standard uniform of issue for boozy sorority girls nationwide)? Because we'd rather look like Grace Kelly than Kellie Pickler. Let's see: do more men fantasize about marrying Paris Hilton or anally penetrating her? There you go. Do you really think that if you kiss that guido who's been staring at your cleavage all night that he'll transform magically into Prince William and Harry's Long Lost Third Brother? I thought not.

Thus comes the Inevitable Question: what do we wear?

Beats the hell out of me, ladies. I'd normally advise you to stick to classic lines like Ann Taylor or BCBG, and throw a little Betsey Johnson in for some flair. But, then again, the only man who wished me a happy Valentines' day that I still speak to lives in Brunei , so I'm not exactly the authority on attracting the opposite sex these days. Best stick to InStyle for the fashion tips.