HEY! DID YOU WATCH THE MAKAH Tribe whale hunt on TV last week? I know, I know... it was all pretty icky, but on the upside, it gave me a great idea for my own show... Ultimate Cockfighting! See, my family is from Alabama, and so we have a long-standing and sacred tradition of training roosters to kill each other (and sometimes dogs) and then betting money on them--until of course the narrow-minded government proclaimed it illegal! But the way things stand now, people seem to be okay with killing animals as long as it's a minority doing it, and though some people don't think of rednecks as being a minority, you just try and find a monster truck on Capitol Hill!
Anyhoo, since the Makah whale hunt was carried by ALL the local channels, I figure one of them would gladly interrupt regular programming to televise a cockfight. Especially since killing a dumb slow whale is so boooooring! I mean, please. These Makahs can't even paddle their own canoes! They had to have a motorboat tow them out, and when they finally got a whale, the motorboat had to tow it back to shore for them. Now I don't mind a little cheating when it comes to tradition, but (A) if you're going to be all big-shot and attack a whale, don't wuss out by picking the dumbest and slowest of the bunch, and (B) don't brag about using "authentic harpoons" when you're gonna just throw one of them before shooting the whale in the ass with buckshot!
AND ANOTHER THING! (By the way, I'm going to rant a while, so if you want to go to the fridge for a soda, now's a good time.) Why actually kill the whale? Haven't these Makahs ever heard of metaphor? I mean I'm all for traditions, but you know, when I take communion at church, I don't actually eat the flesh of a human (I'm pretty sure it's a Ritz cracker)! And in Mexico, they beat the shit out of a piñata... not a live donkey! What I suggest is getting some elementary school kids to build a big papier-mâché whale, sticking it on one of those paddle boats, and letting the canoe guys pretend to chase it around. Then it's a simple matter of sticking it in the ass with a harpoon, towing it back to shore, and partying down with a keg of Pabst Blue Ribbon and take-out fish 'n' chips from Long John Silver. Now that's metaphor!!
And here's another FYI: Whale blubber ain't exactly "heart-smart." I can't imagine digging into 20 pounds of whale flesh, and thinking, "Mmmm, Mmm! Now that's goooood eatin'!" Especially since this particular gray whale is the animal equivalent of a really big carp, which even most rednecks won't touch. What probably happened was tribe members grabbed their whale chunks and said, "Uhhh... yeah! Thanks for the... uh... blubber!" before tossing it into the nearest dumpster and heading for Pizza Hut.
But I think my favorite part of the whole coverage was the reaction from stupid fawking hippies who had to make the most difficult choice of their politically correct lives: Dances with Wolves or Free Willy? Or to put a finer point on it, do they choose to support the sacred ways of the noble savage, or as one bong-huffer put it, "My earth-sister, the whale"? (HAW! HAW! Ahhhh... hippies are funny.) What's up with this creepy love affair with whales, anyway? For all she knows that whale could've been a big asshole! And besides, would this same bong-huffer ever be caught dead saying, "My earth-sister, the cow"? Because, at least in my noggin, there's really not much difference between the two--except that one says "Moo" and goes well with mashed potatoes, and one don't.
Anyways, back to my original point. So if any of you TV stations out there have any interest in my Ultimate Cockfighting show, or any other animal snuff-film projects, you know where to find me. And as always, thanks to everyone out there who supports my cultural right as a redneck to maintain the traditions of my people--which includes, but is not limited to, slaughtering animals, spitting tobacco, and tongue-wrassling my sister behind the barn.