To America
Copyright © 2007 by Spartina Productions, Inc. All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher. Grand Central Publishing Hachette Book Group USA 237 Park Avenue New York, NY 10017 Visit our Web site at www.HachetteBookGroupUSA.com.
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ISBN: 978-0-446-40783-0
LCCN: 2007931321
I AM AMERICA (AND SO CAN YOU!)
WRITTEN AND EDITED BY
Stephen Colbert
Richard Dahm
Paul Dinello
Allison Silverman
WRITERS
Michael Brumm, Eric Drydale, Rob Dubbin, Glenn Eichler, Peter Grosz, Peter Gwinn, Jay Katsir, Laura Krafft, Frank Lesser, Tom Purcell
PRODUCED BY
Meredith Bennett
DESIGNED BY
Doyle Partners
SPECIAL THANKS
Andro Buneta, Jake Chessum, Alex Cooley, Kris Long
CONTENTS
INTRODUCTION
Featuring Hello and Other Thoughts
HOW TO READ THIS BOOK
MY AMERICAN CHILDHOOD
CHAPTER ONE
THE FAMILY
So Help Me God, I Will Turn This Book Around Right Here
CHAPTER TWO
OLD PEOPLE
Your Glasses Are on Top of Your Head
CHAPTER THREE
ANIMALS
Marking My Territory
CHAPTER FOUR
RELIGION
Accepting Jesus As My Personal Editor
MY AMERICAN ADOLESCENCE
CHAPTER FIVE
SPORTS
When It’s Okay to Shower With Men
CHAPTER SIX
SEX & DATING
1001 Abstinence Positions
CHAPTER SEVEN
HOMOSEXUALS
Do Not Read By Glowstick Light
CHAPTER EIGHT
HIGHER EDUCATION
Smarties Pantsed
CHAPTER NINE
HOLLYWOOD
Lights! Camera! Treason!
MY AMERICAN MATURITY
CHAPTER TEN
THE MEDIA
Stop the Presses! Forever!
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CLASS WAR
Let Them Buy Cake for a Change
CHAPTER TWELVE
RACE
Fact or Fiction?
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
IMMIGRANTS
No Way, Jose
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
SCIENCE
Thanks for the Nukes, Now Go Away
A NOTE TO THE FUTURE
Instructions on How to Defrost My Head
WHAT HAVE WE LEARNED?
HOW TO RETIRE THIS BOOK
APPENDIX
The White House Correspondents’ Dinner
INDEX
fig 1. STEPHEN COLBERT
INTRODUCTION
I AM NO FAN OF BOOKS. AND CHANCES ARE, IF YOU’RE READING THIS, YOU AND I SHARE A HEALTHY SKEPTICISM ABOUT THE PRINTED WORD. WELL, I WANT YOU TO KNOW THAT THIS IS THE FIRST BOOK I’VE EVER WRITTEN, AND I HOPE IT’S THE FIRST BOOK YOU’VE EVER READ. DON’T MAKE A HABIT OF IT.
How many American Flags can you find in this paragraph?
Now, you might ask yourself, if by yourself you mean me, “Stephen, if you don’t like books, why did you write one?” You just asked yourself a trick question. I didn’t write it. I dictated it. I shouted it into a tape recorder over the Columbus Day weekend, then handed it to my agent and said, “Sell this.” He’s the one who turned it into a book. It’s his funeral.
But I get your “drift.” Why even dictate?
Well, like a lot of other dictators, there is one man’s opinion I value above all others. Mine. And folks, I have a lot of opinions. I’m like Lucy trying to keep up with the candy at the chocolate factory. I can barely put them in my mouth fast enough.
In fact, I have so many opinions, I have overwhelmed my ability to document myself. I thought my nightly broadcast, The Colbert Report (check your local listings), would pick up some of the slack. But here’s the dirty little secret. When the cameras go off, I’m still talking. And right now all that opinion is going to waste, like seed on barren ground. Well no more. It’s time to impregnate this country with my mind.
Sorry margin-huggers, but I’ve got some opinions over here, too. Deal with it.1
See, at one time America was pure. Men were men, women were women, and gays were “confirmed bachelors.” But somewhere around the late 60’s, it became “groovy” to “let it all hang out” while you “kept on truckin’” stopping only to “give a hoot.” And today, Lady Liberty is under attack from the cable channels, the internet blogs, and the Hollywood celebritocracy, out there spewing “facts” like so many locusts descending on America’s crop of ripe, tender values. And as any farmer or biblical scholar will tell you, locusts are damn hard to get rid of.2
You will need your confirmation number to log in
I said on the very first episode of The Colbert Report that, together, I was going to change the world, and I’ve kept up my end of the bargain. But it’s not changing fast enough. Last time I checked my supermarket still sold yogurt. From France! See a pattern? Turns out, it takes more than thirty minutes a night to fix everything that’s destroying America, and that’s where this book comes in. It’s not just some collection of reasoned arguments supported by facts. That’s the coward’s way out.
Half an hour not enough
This book is Truth. My Truth.
I deliver my Truth hot and hard. Fast and Furious. So either accept it without hesitation or get out of the way, because somebody might get hurt, and it’s not going to be me.
It’s going to be you
Think you can handle it?
I’m scared of Koreans.
Bam! That’s me off the cuff. Blunt and in your face. No editing. I think it. I say it. You read it. Sometimes I don’t even think it, I just say it.
Baby carrots are trying to turn me gay.
See? I’m not pulling any punches. I’m telling it like it is. Get used to it or put this book down. Because this book is for America’s Heroes. And who are the Heroes? The people who bought this book. That bears repeating. People who borrow this book are not Heroes. They are no better then welfare queens mooching off the system like card-carrying library card-carriers. For the record, we’re not offering this book to libraries. No free rides.
Don’t put this book down
Rides cost money
Okay, now it’s my turn to ask a question: What do I want from you? Good question.
Thank you
Just because I haven’t put a lot of thought into this book doesn’t mean you shouldn’t. I want you to read this book carefully. Savor my ideas. Memorize pertinent passages. Eat with it, sleep with it, let nature take its course.
Because what I have dictated is nothing less than a Constitution for the Colbert Nation. And, like our Founding Fathers, I hold my Truths to be self-evident, which is why I did absolutely no research.
I didn’t need to. The only research I needed was a long hard look in the mirror. For this book is My Story and, as such, it is the American Story.
Minus the Fruited Plains. (See Chapter 7-Homosexuals)
I am reminded of the words of Walt Whitman, the nineteenth-century poet, naturalist, and all around man’s man, who,
through his epic lyricism, defined the character of this new nation. He said,
“I celebrate myself, and sing myself,
And what I assume, you shall assume.”
That “I” he was talking about? It’s me.
Bottom line: Read this book. Be me.
I Am America (And So Can You!)
by Stephen Colbert
fig 2. AMERICA
HOW TO READ THIS BOOK
By purchasing I Am America (And So Can You!), you have agreed to treat this book with the Accepted Minimum Standard of Respect, as follows:
Got it?
This book should never be marked or notated. This means no highlighting, underlining, or margin doodles.
This book should never be used as a coaster, to right a wobbly table, in lieu of a hammer, a fly swatter, an umbrella, or a fan.
No image of me should ever be removed from this book for any purpose, including, but not exclusively: book reports, decorating walls, or placing in your wallet to imply our friendship.
Never press any sort of flowery foliage between pages. I’m allergic.
Start with a First Edition and be diligent in upgrading when new editions are available.
May be used to swear in those about to offer testimony if a Bible is not readily available.
This book should never have the midsection carved away in order to conceal a weapon or jewelry. Those items should be stored either inside the taxidermy heads hanging in the trophy room or in the safe behind the painting in the study.
This book is the responsibility of the purchaser—Never Loan Out.
Ladies may not balance this book on their heads in order to better their posture nor steady their hands when applying polish. C’mon, ladies! You know better than that.
Never dog-ear! Use the Ribbon to mark pages. The Ribbon is included in First Editions only! If the book you are reading has a Ribbon and is an official authorized First Edition, the “F” on the ribbon should be in large script type, like this:
If not, you are holding a Chinese counterfeit. Are you still in the store? The man behind the counter is a pirate. He might as well have an eye patch and a parrot! Don’t panic. Just keep smiling and nodding as if there is nothing wrong. That’s it, nod and smile! Good. Now first, buy the book, and then call the police.
If your book does not have a Ribbon, these are the appropriate alternate items to mark your place in the book:
Money (nothing less than a twenty)
Another copy of this book.
Place this sign by your front entrance where firefighters can see it.
Part One
MY AMERICAN CHILDHOOD
My earliest memory is from when I was three years old. My mother came into my room—I can still smell the perfume she was wearing, which I assume they don’t make anymore, because I’ve spent a lot of time in department stores looking for it. She swooped me up and told me that she and my father were leaving me.
Then she carried me to the living room to meet Ruth. I was not entirely clear on what a “babysitter” was, so I naturally assumed this old woman was going to replace my parents forever. I was not on board with this plan.
I may have been only three years old, but I already knew that a family was a mother, a father, the kids and the pets—there was no room in that model for an ancient crone wearing slacks and (in my opinion) too many rings.
The minute my parents left, I ordered my stuffed animals to attack. No response. I threw them down the laundry chute and tried my luck with a real animal: our cat, Cleopatra. I carried her to my Emergency Bunker—the linen closet behind the vacuum cleaner. From there we could lead the resistance against this new Ruth Regime.
That’s when the enemy struck. Ruth was making fish sticks. I held Cleopatra close, but she scratched my face and dashed for the kitchen.
Desperate, I started praying—mostly to God, although it’s possible a prayer to Santa may have snuck in there. I prayed He would bring my parents home and make our family whole again.
And when I woke up the next morning, not only had God gotten rid of Ruth and brought back my parents, but He had also moved me from the linen closet to my own bed.
Now that’s service.
Why do I share this memory? Because it perfectly captures the Five Fs of childhood: Family, Faith, Furry Friends, and Fear of the Elderly. These are the fundamental relationships that teach us Where We Belong, What Belongs to Us, and Who We Belong to.
My second memory is when we went to the zoo, and I saw two rhinos do it.
fig 3. STEPHEN COLBERT
CHAPTER 1
THE FAMILY
“Mama’s all right, Daddy’s all right.”
–Rick Nielsen, dream policeman and father of the 5-neck guitar
WE ARE AT WAR. AND I’M NOT TALKING ABOUT THE WAR IN IRAQ, THE WAR IN AFGHANISTAN, OR THE WAR ON DRUGS. I’M TALKING ABOUT A WAR WITH HIGHER STAKES THAN ALL OF THOSE OTHER WARS COMBINED AND THEN DIVIDED BY THREE. THE BATTLEGROUND I’M TALKING ABOUT? THE AMERICAN FAMILY.
Think of America as a body. But not in the obvious way where Lake Michigan is the eye, Maine is the upturned nose, Texas is the Adam’s Apple, and Florida is a really pointy beard. Instead, let’s look deeper, at the biological building block of America: the family.
COLB-QUIZ: What is a family?
Colb-answer: Keep reading!
According to the U.S. Census Bureau, a family is defined as two or more people living together who are related by birth, marriage or adoption. In other words, the U.S. Census Bureau is run by radical leftists. Why do you think there’s a whole category for the unemployed?
Want to be counted? Get a job.
If you ask me, from time immemorial, the word “family” has meant only one thing: a Mom married to a Pop and raising 2.3 rambunctious little scamps. That’s what’s called The Nuclear Family. It got that name because it reached its peak during the early years of the Cold War, when Americans were in immediate danger of nuclear annihilation. Back then, family members knew their roles, and nobody questioned paternal authority. After all, Dad was the one with the keys to the fallout shelter.
What makes The Nuclear Family so special? Well, just like a real nuclear isotope, it’s incredibly stable. Plus, it’s a convenient shorthand for referring to a group of individuals. Think how much time it would take if we had to name each individual instead of simply saying “The Johnsons.” That’s time we could be spending with our families.1
And it makes your hair fall out.
* * *
WHAT ABOUT NON-TRADITIONAL FAMILIES?
Take your pick.
* * *
THAT SOUNDS WONDERFUL: But how do you create a nuclear family of your own? It starts with a simple formula:
MAN + WOMAN = MARRIAGE
Now, just because that formula is full of letters doesn’t mean it contains variables. Change it a little and the formula doesn’t work at all.
Put the “stud” in Bible-study.
Once you’ve locked up a spouse of the appropriate opposite sex, it’s time to get to “know” one another in the biblical sense: by studying the Bible together. In it, you’ll find the function of marriage is to provide men and women a safe, God-approved context for their wildest sexual romps, the sole purpose of which is to produce children.
I am America (and so can You!) Page 1