Joe Lieberman stinks. He’s like Tonya Harding, but with worse hair. He’s the kid brother at the birthday party who has to get as many gifts as the real birthday boy because he’ll cry if he doesn’t. Joe, it’s not your party. Nobody voted for it to be your party. You’re ruining the party, Joe.
The voting majority in Connecticut disagrees with me. If anything, last Tuesday showed us that people love to disagree about a lot of things. For instance, I disagree that “Boy Meets World” is not a worthy topic for a senior essay. Some people disagree with the idea that gay people should get married and live in their neighborhoods. These people don’t want their block parties overrun with people who have happy marriages.
The only thing that politicians can agree on is children. Everywhere you turn, people are talking about children like they are the future. Children are not the future. Children are ugly potatoes that can’t tie their own shoes. Who said that children are our future? Whitney Houston. And she’s on crack.
But in America, it is important to think about children, because we wouldn’t have things like Halloween if we didn’t have children, and maybe we wouldn’t even have candy. Politicians talk about the benefits that children provide (candy) using the euphemism “family values.” America loves values, because a value is like a deal, only it’s moral. And that’s the other thing America really likes. Morals.
Now that the election is over, we should take this day, a day that Joe Lieberman might call “Joe Lieberman Day” as he believes that every day should be called “Joe Lieberman Day,” to reflect on our roots. What better way to celebrate America — the country that brought you the Atkins diet, refrigerator magnets, Pez and that television show where people dance and sing with no pants on — than to talk about Thanksgiving, the holiday that gave you cranberry sauce (jelly shoved into a can), stuffing (bread shoved inside a bird), and football (enormous men shoved into tights).
Once upon a time, there was a lumpy country in the middle of the ocean that no one knew about. One day, a man named Christopher Columbus decided to go for a sail. He packed a few bag lunches, called some friends, put on his old “sun cap” that everyone kept telling him looked ridiculous, and they set out.
They sailed right into the lumpy country. This made them feel a little stupid, because it was like, Columbus, don’t you have any eyes? So they pretended that they knew where they were. A bunch of people came out to greet them, and they pretended that they knew who these people were and they called them Indians. This would be a little bit like forgetting the name of the person you just slept with and calling them by the name of the person you slept with yesterday (and then calling them that for the next five hundred years). A big oops.
Christopher Columbus decided that he would go back home and tell all of his homies about this new place. And people were pretty impressed; I mean, Christopher had always been kind of a screwball.
Then a lot of time passed.
Things got heated in this place called England. Everyone was obsessed with Jesus, but people couldn’t agree on whether Jesus liked the King or the Pope better, even though they both had pretty great hats. And then there were the Puritans who watched from the sidelines and thought, “None of these people are as hardcore as we are. Let’s peace.”
So in order to escape a rumble, the Puritans sailed to America, where they could be as hardcore as they desired. But when they got there, they were extremely cold and unhappy. They realized that America was lame — despite the fact that it was a great place to burn witches, it didn’t have any of the great stuff that England had, like food and heat.
They started looking around for things to eat, but the only things that looked remotely appetizing were the children, but children are the future and no one wanted to eat the future. They began to starve. Just then, a bunch of people — “the Indians” — brought them some food and taught them how to use the land. This was a pretty stupid thing for these “Indians” to do, because it meant that these Jesus freaks would stick around for awhile. So they all broke bread and then ate it and enjoyed each other’s company for one night before they proceeded to kill each other.
Today, Americans celebrate Thanksgiving with their families, which is kind of like celebrating it with complete strangers, only scarier. People fight about politics using sentences like, “I don’t know where I heard this, but someone told me that Joe Lieberman…” The children use their hands to make pictures of turkeys, which is like drawing a picture of someone you are about to kill and eat. Then they sit down to dinner and tell each other what they are thankful for.
This year, I am thankful for many things. I am thankful for microwavable macaroni and cheese and “Lost.” I am thankful for people who vote (for Mario Lopez in “Dancing With The Stars”). I am thankful for the fact that there are so many holidays involving food in October, November and December. I am thankful for people who exercise discretion when using their new MacBook Photo Booth feature. I am thankful for movies like “Babes in Toyland,” “Kindergarten Cop,” “Hook” and the Indiana Jones classics for making Thanksgiving break a true delight.
And I am thankful for Thanksgiving. Because without Thanksgiving, I might already have eaten a child by now.
Eli Clark would like everyone to know that she hasn’t beheaded anyone, yet.