It's true, at least according to Michael Savage:
The takeaway: "The white Christian heterosexual married male is the epitome of everything right with America".
Man O Man O Manischewitz, where do you even begin with something like this? He might have added "rural," or "parent," but yeah, other than that, he couldn't have pegged me better.
And it's true. I am the epitome of America. Just look at me:
Yessir, that's everything that's right with America: a fat, pasty, cretin with a predilection for stupid hats.
Also beer.
Also sausage.
Also Little Debbie Snack Cakes.
Now, with a few exceptions, I'm sure that we'll be able to agree that I am the Epitome Of Everything That's Right With America:
- Blacks
- Asians
- Latinos, Hispanics, and/or Portuguese speakers
- Women (sorry, Mrs Pastor)
- Jews
- Muslims
- Buddhists
- Atheists
- Agnostics
- Skeptics
- Whatever the hell it is that Bill in Portland Maine is
- Gays
- Lesbians
- Bisexuals
- The transgendered
- Queers
- Questioners
- Immigrants
- Residents of the other 49 states + Puerto Rico and assorted territories
- Southpaws
- Liberals
- Common-grounders
- UFO enthusiasts
- Vegetarians
- Vegetarians (it's on there twice for a reason)
- Anyone who doesn't like punk rock
- Anyone who does like punk rock - but not my kind
- Breeders
- Anyone who doesn't like beer or brandy old-fashioneds
- Fans of the Jesus Seminar
- Fans of Susan Sontag
- Fans of Les Miz
- Haters on Scarlett Johansson
and
- the President of the United States of America.
I could go on, but really, why bother? If you're conservative, aren't bipolar, like potatoes au gratin, or dislike cheese curds, why, according to Michael Savage, you don't count.
Because, according to him, I am the epitome of everything that is right in America.
Now, you may properly object that I am not the run-of-the-mill douchebag Savage had in mind. That's not quite true. If you think he was picturing an idealized version of a doughy pantload - only Christian - you may be forgiven. It's hard to get the smell of old cheeto and Mom's basement out of these flip wingnut pronouncements. But I believe Savage was looking less for the pale perfection of skin kissed only by hypothetical girlfriends and the reflected glare of World of Warcraft than a farmer's tan, hat hair, and the tell-tale line of a Skoal tin in the back pocket. He wanted, in short, the kind of who loves Mom, baseball, and apple pie. Just like me. Well, me with an unhealthy lust for Busch Light and beating the crap out of immigrants, queers, Democrats, and anybody who doesn't listen to Michael Savage.
Whatever mancrush Savage was trolling for, he didn't spell it out carefully enough, and pronounced a blessing on the likes of me, the Howard-Dean loving, Curtis-Mayfield adoring, gay-friendly, tax-and-spend liberal, foster father, and third-generation pastor.
And this epitome of everything that right in America says Michael Savage can bite my shiny metal ass. Because the beauty of America is not to be found in chasing some phantom standard of citizenship, nor in creating hierarchies among its citizens.
The beauty of America, the epitome of everything that is right about it, is its sprawling, brawling, barbaric diversity. So if you, like me, are a white, Christian, heterosexual man, congratulations and blessings. But if you are not, double portions. The epitome in me salutes the epitome in you and looks forward to spending the next few decades watching Michael Savage slide off into bitter irrelevance, and laughing our asses off as he goes.