I am America (and so can You!)

by Stephen Colbert

  Of course, the simplest answer to the problem of the aged is for people to stop getting old. There was a time I thought this was impossible. But that was before I developed my Age-Defying Protein Pudding!

  It’s based on a high gelatin diet that has kept cow hooves supple for centuries.

  I’m proud to make it available for the first time in this book.

  * * *

  STEPHEN SPEAKS FOR ME

  A CHANCE FOR AVERAGE AMERICANS TO AGREE WITH WHAT I THINK

  Gill Honeycomb, the Oldest Man in the World

  A lot of senior citizens will tell you that they miss the “good old days.” Not me. I never cared for them much. Besides, what was so good about them? Between 1918 and 1920, close to 100 million people died of Spanish Flu. Whoopee! Break out the party hats.

  Perhaps these same seniors miss the Great Depression, too. I know I have fond memories of beating a hobo for scraps of cantaloupe rind. Ah, if only that bloody bindle could fit in my scrapbook.

  Oh, and let’s not forget the joy of racism. You wouldn’t believe the horrible things they called African-Americans and the Irish back then. I still can’t eat potato salad without thinking of Eugene O’Neill.

  No, thank you. I much prefer the present. Things are so much better today. Take medicine. In the old days, you’d go see a doctor and he’d write you a prescription for a carton of Viceroy cigarettes. I lost my beloved Doris to appendicitis because the doctor said her T-zone wasn’t getting enough smooth flavor.

  No, the only good thing about the past is that the Chicago Cubs would occasionally win the World Series. But that’s it. Everything else was Nazis and disease.

  I just thank God I’m alive to see the world today. To see with my own eyes all the wonderful advances in medicine, society, and technology. I’m so lucky that I can enjoy all that the modern world has to offdfjkkzdfjlhgkgfkktdkftfrrkltlilgklfffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff

  (Editor’s Note: We would like to congratulate the new Oldest Man in the World, Nobutane Matsuhara, age 113. Get your thoughts together for the paperback edition, Nobu!)

  * * *

  fig 5. STEPHEN COLBERT

  CHAPTER 3

  ANIMALS

  “I’m a monkey!”

  –Mick Jagger, lead singer of The Monkees

  HUMANS ARE IN CHARGE OF THIS PLANET, AND IT’S A PRECARIOUS POSITION. THERE ARE SIX BILLION OF US, BUT IF MY PEST CONTROL BILL IS ANY INDICATION, THERE’S AT LEAST THAT MANY SQUIRRELS IN MY ATTIC. I DON’T KNOW HOW MUCH MORE POISON I CAN SQUIRT UP THERE. I’M GETTING WOOZY.

  It’s clear that when we’re this outnumbered by the creatures, we have to take a page from the British Empire and rule the lesser species through intimidation. That’s why the single most important thing you can do as a human is to dominate an animal. Need more proof?

  YAHWEH October 23, 4004 B.C.

  “Rule over the fish of the sea and the birds of the air and over every living creature that moves on the ground.” I’d say that about covers it. Because if we didn’t dominate the animals, you better believe they’d be dominating us. And that’s a scenario so horrific not even Hollywood could produce it. But here’s a brief treatment, just in case they would care to.

  Spoiler alert: It isn’t! 1

  MAKE A DIFFERENCE!

  This little nightmare I have just described (and registered with the Writers Guild) is why I strongly recommend getting a pet—any pet—and dominating it. It’s the best way to remind the animal kingdom who’s the boss. Plus, nothing is more satisfying than subjugating a lower creature to your will. When I tell my dog Gipper to fetch my slippers, I feel a sense of rightful empowerment, placing myself at the apex of Nature’s Org Chart.

  Of course, Gipper has very sensitive legs, so when I ask him to fetch me something, I have to physically carry him over to that spot and pick up the item myself. But believe me, he gets the idea.

  Don’t you, boy! Oh yes you do!

  For a human, dominating an animal should be as natural as smoking a turkey. And yet it’s a joy that many adults no longer experience. And do you know why?

  Because from the time you’re a little kid, the media are feeding you lies to put the power structure out of whack. So before you become a pet owner, there are a few things you need to understand in order to put the power structure in of whack.

  WHEN YOU WISH UPON A LIE

  Some would have our children believe that animals are cute and cuddly. It starts the day we bring baby Kyle or Kallie or Kayla or Kaitlyn or Kelsie home from the hospital to a room wallpapered in adorable little yellow ducks. Why aren’t these ducks being pursued by adorable little yellow hunters? I don’t know, but I’m willing to bet that it has something to do with the Far Left media’s control of the wallpaper industry. (Yes, I consider the wallpaper industry part of the media. It has the word “paper” in it.)

  Kieran, Kylie, Kristal, Kinsley, Kira, Kstephen

  I’m on to you, toilet paper.

  What’s the very first book most children own? A bit of blatant propaganda called Pat the Bunny.

  Feel how smooth this page is.

  Better Option: Paté the Bunny!

  I’m not saying Pat the Bunny isn’t a good book. There’s that soft patch of fur on page one for you to pat. And then there’s the smooth part and the scratchy part and don’t get me started on the mirror! There is so much to do, and you don’t even need to know how to read. That’s the perfect book. But a pro-bunny manifesto with that kind of sensory stimulation? What chance do our children have?

  Pat the Bunny isn’t a good book

  * * *

  All Dogs Go to Heaven? Sorry, kids. It’s only the dogs who’ve accepted Christ.

  * * *

  HICKORY DICKORY SHOCK!

  Then there are the nursery rhymes. What’s a cuter image than three little kittens that have lost their mittens? Well, brace yourself: Kittens don’t wear mittens. I’m going to let that sink in. And why don’t they wear mittens? Because they’d just get caught on their razor-sharp claws.

  You may now unbrace.

  Personally I prefer the Three Blind Mice, because 1) they’re already handicapped when the song starts—as a result, no doubt, of some anti-human scheme that blew up in their faces, and 2) they’re further maimed in the course of the rhyme.

  Stay strong, Farmer’s Wife!

  The list is endless. The cartoon characters: dogs, cats, rabbits, ducks, horses, squirrels, gorillas, all of them talking, all of them so very human. Of course, the most famous offender is Bambi, which, for reasons that escape me, portrays the death of a deer negatively. You can bet you’ll never see an animated classic about what Bambi’s mom devoured for her last meal—my defenseless oakleaf hydrangea!

  My point is this: if America is ever to stop cowtowing to the animal-petters, we have to get to our youth before they do. Children have to learn that these animals aren’t our buddies. Sometimes it’s a tough lesson.

  “Cowtow”! It’s right there in the name!

  BUT WHAT ABOUT ME?

  When I was a kid, I had a dog named Shasta. We were inseparable. We’d play in the backyard, maybe chase a ball, or just go splashin’ around the ol’ creek. Shasta was my best friend.

  Then after fourteen happy years together, I came home from school one day and Shasta didn’t greet me at the door. My mom and dad sat me down and told me the terrible news: Shasta had gone to live on a big beautiful farm upstate. I couldn’t believe it. I never felt so betrayed in my life. I thought Shasta and I were a team. But as soon as some smooth-talking stranger came along with the promise of a bigger field, she was gone. And that’s how it is with animals. Always looking for a better offer.<
br />
  Yet another reason not to give to Farm Aid

  Sorry I wasn’t a farmer, Shasta. The suburb had zoning laws—we couldn’t grow crops in the yard. How could you?

  I pressed my parents for answers, but my mom wouldn’t stop crying, and my Dad just kept saying that she was chasing rabbits. Chasing rabbits? I guess Shasta was lying to me about that degenerative hip disease, too.

  I wonder whose face she was thinking of when she was licking mine?

  So wake up, America.

  No more catnaps. From now on: mannaps.

  Pets. Don’t. Care. About. You. They’re just using you for food, and for the social networking you provide when you walk them.

  But the joke’s on you, Shasta. If you’re reading this (or having your farmer friend read it to you), you should know that I have a new dog, Gipper. And Gipper is twice the dog you’ll ever be. His coat is way shinier than yours, and he doesn’t chew up my comic books. And he hates farms. Gipper will never betray me, and he’s never going to leave me. He’s been right by my side for the last fifteen years, and he’ll be there for the next fifty.

  So if animals aren’t our friends, then what are they?

  The answer can be summed up between two buns.

  THE FACTORY FARM: AMERICA’S MOST SUCCULENT INDUSTRY

  Nation, have you ever wondered how a cow becomes a hamburger? Me neither. I just assumed God did it. But it turns out that food production is actually part of something called Agribusiness. It’s this industry that turns cows into steaks, pigs into bacon and everything else into gelatin.

  “Everything else” includes, someday, Bill Cosby. (Should have read the fine print.)

  THE MIRACLE OF MEAT

  THE U.S.D.A. AND Y.O.U.

  Agribusiness in the United States is overseen by the United States Department of Agriculture. Translation: just more Big Government interference. Hey, if I want to buy meat out of the trunk of some guy’s car, that’s my business. My Agribusiness.

  Just one “n” away from Angry-Business!

  Here’s my second problem. The food pyramid. There is no greater friend of the State of Israel than Yours Truly, and I for one believe it is criminal that the USDA would use an army of Jewish slaves to build these monuments just so school kids can be force-fed the Whole Grain Agenda.

  HEY PHAROAH TUTEN-RAMEN-NOODLE!

  LET MY PEOPLE GO-GURT!

  WHO CARES?

  Upton Sinclair wrote a pro-labor book about the Chicago stockyards called The Jungle that pointed out minor flaws in the meat industry, such as the frequency of severed limbs. Big deal. I knew an accountant who got his arm chopped off in a filing cabinet. But you’ll never hear about that in a book.

  He kept the arm and claimed it as a dependent.

  Truth is, Upton Sinclair was a Socialist, which means what he really wanted was for cattle to control the distribution of wealth. One guess who they’d give it to.

  THE TRUTH: IT’S WHAT’S FOR DINNER.

  Now some people complain that the factory scale of Agribusiness means cruelty to animals, environmental destruction, and meat loaded with chemicals and hormones.

  But they’re not awarding any points for the fact that on the factory farm, a cow can go from mooing to stewing in under ninety seconds.

  READY, PET, GO!

  Okay. Now that I’ve pulled the wool off your eyes about animals, you’re ready to get one and establish the proper dominant relationship.

  It’s important to select the right animal. Different lifestyles call for different pets to master. If you’re away from your home a lot, you may want to boss around a cat. If you don’t like to exercise, consider lording over an iguana or perhaps a weak-willed parakeet. But if you do have the time to dedicate, there is no beast more satisfying to dominate than the dog.

  If you want to be a real asshole, get a ferret.

  Once you’ve selected a pet and named it, it’s time to bend the animal to your will. I’ve done this with my dog Gipper by teaching him a few authoritative commands, such as SIT. When I order Gipper to sit, I’m letting him know that I am his superior. Of course, Gipper has a bad back, so after I ask him to sit, I massage his hindquarters while I ease him onto a pillow.

  * * *

  What’s on Top of a House? It’s “roof.” Not “ruff.”

  Make sure your dog says “roof.”

  * * *

  Just like with humans, dogs determine what type of person you are by the firmness of your handshake. If you have a strong grip, they’ll respect you. If you have a weak grip, they’ll turn your neck into a chew toy. So be sure to give your dog’s paw a hearty squeeze and NEVER break eye contact. Of course, my dog Gipper doesn’t like to be touched, so when I ask him to shake, I bow to him Japanese-style while averting my gaze.

  For Masonic dogs, try clutching the elbow.

  THE DE-BALLIFICATION OF THE AMERICAN PETSCAPE

  Anyone who has ever spent $5 to purchase a newborn dachshund out of a cardboard box in a supermarket parking lot knows the joy of a litter of puppies. Without them the desk calendars of our nation’s secretaries would be blank.

  Don’t let someone else’s pets read this book. Have your animal mark its territory:

  But there is a movement afoot in this country, spearheaded by certain octogenarian game show hosts, to spay and neuter our pets, ostensibly to control their population. Instead of letting animals be animals these people choose to “Cut and Run.”2

  At its very core, this scissor-happy movement is an affront to virility and is brazenly anti-ball. Think of the agony you put your neutered dog through when, during a simple game of fetch, you ask him to chase down and retrieve a symbol of his lost manhood. The Anti-Cruelty Society is performing these procedures!3 And they say irony is dead!

  Apparently it’s just playing, ‘possum

  Worst of all, neutering is birth control, plain and simple. Instead of the wholesale de-sacking of these creatures, we should be promoting abstinence education for our pets. They will get the same satisfaction teenagers do from remaining chaste until they are married. And yes, I am once again advocating animal marriages.

  Not animal gay marriages!

  ON ENDANGERED SPECIES

  To put it simply, certain animals are endangered because God is pissed off at them. If you try to save an endangered animal, you are going against God’s will—and the Man knows how to hold a grudge.

  * * *

  ENDANGERED ANIMALS and WHY THEY ARE UNLOVED BY GOD

  * * *

  I Went to the Zoo Once: Not impressed. The animals were lazy. If I want to see a monkey sleeping, I’ll tranquilize one. But what do you expect from today’s modern zoos? Now every animal has its own habitat—Bear Country, Tiger Mountain, Hedgehog Hotel, Baboon Condo. It’s so safe and sterile. How are my kids supposed to learn anything about nature if the animals aren’t savaging one another? I say we put all the animals into one big enclosure and let them battle it out. After all, it’s a dog-eat-dog world; so let’s have some dogs eating each other. Not my dog Gipper, though. He has a very sensitive stomach.

  If I went to a play and all the actors were asleep, I’d get a refund.