In the unlikely story that is America, there has never been anything false about hope.
I was having dinner_in London_when eventually he got, as the Europeans always do, to the part about __our country__ never been invaded._ And so I said, __et me tell you who those bad guys are. They__e us. WE BE BAD. We__e the baddest-assed sons of bitches that ever jogged in Reeboks. We__e three-quarters grizzly bear and two-thirds car wreck and descended from a stock market crash on our mother__ side. You take your Germany, France, and Spain, roll them all together and it wouldn__ give us room to park our cars. We__e the big boys, Jack, the original, giant, economy-sized, new and improved butt kickers of all time. When we snort coke in Houston, people lose their hats in Cap d__ntibes. And we__e got an American Express card credit limit higher than your piss-ant metric numbers go. You say our country__ never been invaded? You__e right, little buddy. Because I__ like to see the needle-dicked foreigners who__ have the guts to try. We drink napalm to get our hearts started in the morning. A rape and a mugging is our way of saying 'Cheerio.' Hell can__ hold our sock-hops. We walk taller, talk louder, spit further, fuck longer and buy more things than you know the names of. I__ rather be a junkie in a New York City jail than king, queen, and jack of all Europeans. We eat little countries like this for breakfast and shit them out before lunch.
Holidays in Hell: In Which Our Intrepid Reporter Travels to the World's Worst Places and Asks, "What's Funny About This"
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I was having dinner_in London_when eventually he got, as the Europeans always do, to the part about __our country__ never been invaded._ And so I said, __et me tell you who those bad guys are. They__e us. WE BE BAD. We__e the baddest-assed sons of bitches that ever jogged in Reeboks. We__e three-quarters grizzly bear and two-thirds car wreck and descended from a stock market crash on our mother__ side. You take your Germany, France, and Spain, roll them all together and it wouldn__ give us room to park our cars. We__e the big boys, Jack, the original, giant, economy-sized, new and improved butt kickers of all time. When we snort coke in Houston, people lose their hats in Cap d__ntibes. And we__e got an American Express card credit limit higher than your piss-ant metric numbers go. You say our country__ never been invaded? You__e right, little buddy. Because I__ like to see the needle-dicked foreigners who__ have the guts to try. We drink napalm to get our hearts started in the morning. A rape and a mugging is our way of saying 'Cheerio.' Hell can__ hold our sock-hops. We walk taller, talk louder, spit further, fuck longer and buy more things than you know the names of. I__ rather be a junkie in a New York City jail than king, queen, and jack of all Europeans. We eat little countries like this for breakfast and shit them out before lunch.
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What is in mind is a sort of Chautauqua...that__ the only name I can think of for it...like the traveling tent-show Chautauquas that used to move across America, this America, the one that we are now in, an old-time series of popular talks intended to edify and entertain, improve the mind and bring culture and enlightenment to the ears and thoughts of the hearer. The Chautauquas were pushed aside by faster-paced radio, movies and TV, and it seems to me the change was not entirely an improvement. Perhaps because of these changes the stream of national consciousness moves faster now, and is broader, but it seems to run less deep. The old channels cannot contain it and in its search for new ones there seems to be growing havoc and destruction along its banks. In this Chautauqua I would like not to cut any new channels of consciousness but simply dig deeper into old ones that have become silted in with the debris of thoughts grown stale and platitudes too often repeated.