What the hell is the matter with you people anyway?
Like nuclear waste from Yucca Mountain, regionalism and secessionism has creeped from the fissures of what we long ago thought was its secure tomb to cloud the whole country with a foul miasma. A miasma
is what pre-germ theory thinkers considered a noxious cloud that infected people with disease.
Lefties have been joking about joining Canada. Righties have joked about booting the blue states. What the hell is this all about? In a few years we're all going to be Muslim, anyway.
Look, we got a good thing going. Over two hundred years, one constitution. One little hiccup along the way—but we ended up trading a Republican
for Savannah and three amendments and a Ku Klux Klan later, everything was money. Sort of.
But like when I was a kid and we played at the basketball court, the two teams, nominally friends, were of course a bit vicious to each other on the court. Rough picks, flying elbows, a pot of yo' mamma jokes
so deep we with our little arms couldn't hope to scrape the bottom. And occasionally things were heated enough to prompt some little shit to threaten to take "his" ball and go home. I still don't know whose fucking ball that was.
But listen: we would then all, even his teammates, threaten to beat the shit out of him if he pussied out like that, and one of two things would happen. A) he would give in and we'd go on playing, or B) he'd still leave, we'd steal the ball from his drunk dad's negligently-unlocked shed, and then kick the shit out of him before the next basketball game.
So it's simple people, really. We're playing basketball. We love it. It's tiring, but it's rewarding, even when some bully pulls down the net. So if someone tries to puss out with the ball, you just gang up on him and make sure we keep playing. 'Cause otherwise, it's go inside, take a bath, and do your homework.
, people—do you really know what's at stake here?