Merry Jesus-mas from Marlboro Country

You people are nuts. Nuts. Apparently one can no longer be gracious, open-minded, or inclusive without it being a direct attack on the callous, narrow-minded, and prejudiced. Have it your way, I guess. Oh yeah, and while I have you on the phone... Narnia's roots in religious symbology does not make it a religious film, you twits. It's called fantasy. It's a story. Darth Vader is a Christ figure, too, if you want it bad enough.

All you extravagantly buckled and embroidered folk out on the range who think Brokeback Mountain is an affront to the wholesome and moral tradition of cowboyery (“A cowboy who's lusting after his buddy isn't fit to wear cowboy boots.”) need to wake up and smell the Village People* — the cowboy is second only to the biker when it comes to time-honored icons of love among men.

And to you local people who are complaining that the statewide smoking ban that goes into effect tonight is “complete and total disregard for the Constitution” — suck it up. The rest of us been living with your indiscriminate deathbreath long enough. Hey, I wholly support your right to suicide by Kool, so smoke up, Johnny! But keep it out of my face. I don't leave my dog's shit on your lawn, do I? Time for you to baggie your smoke. There's nothing quite so pathetic (or uniquely American) as trying to equate liberty with convenience.

Really. Cry me a river, all of you.

* Incidentally (as Bill Maher observed on “Real Time”) — Bush, having already played make-believe as a soldier, a cowboy, a construction worker, and a biker, needs only to appear in public as an Indian and a cop to complete the set. You go, Mr. President.