The Sins of America – Reverse Culture Shock

I did a little bit of writing last night for a magazine. I owe them a couple of articles in a couple week’s time. This is my reentry culture shock piece.

In the life of a 22 year-old, a year is a very long time – fifty two weeks, three hundred and sixty five point four days, and a ridiculous amount of hours, minutes, and seconds. For an entire year and two hours, nearly to the minute, I did not set foot in America. First there was nine months spent pounding the pavement in Tunisia; then three months hitting the streets in Germany. I saw so much. I did so much. I experienced so much. I learned so much. I forgot what it was to be an American.

When I first returned to America I noticed a few things right off the bat. Specifically, seven things…

Pride

If there’s one thing that Americans are guilty of its pride. Americans have the largest egos of anyone I’ve ever met. An American can be spotted a kilometer off by the swagger in the gait, the loud and crass manner of speech, the incessant bragging of America’s glory and America’s righteousness. It sickens me.

Envy

If there’s one thing that Americans are guilty of its envy. Every single female from the age of 10 to the age of 100 wants to look like Britney Spears. The Britney Spears effect runs rampant throughout society. From the top to the bottom, everyone wants to look like an anorexic two-bit trailer-trash floozy. They succeed, partially anyway. They certainly do look like two-bit trailer-trash floozies. It sickens me.

Gluttony

If there’s one thing that Americans are guilty of its gluttony. Man, woman, and child, without fail and without falter appear as if they wish to mimic a trans-Atlantic zeppelin in size and shape. Rather than consuming modest proportions of food, Americans find pleasure in the all-you-can-eat buffet where the goal truly is to eat all that you can. Americans no longer walk. They waddle. It sickens me.

Lust

If there’s one thing that Americans are guilty of its lust. Girls lust after guys. Guys lust after girls. People of the same gender lust after each other, but these things are only talked about in Massachusetts and San Francisco. The rest of the country still adheres to Hitler’s ideas on homosexuality. Without fail, everyone wants sex. The buzz of repressed sexual energy hangs heavy in the air. It’s so tangible one can even taste it. Yet no one acts on these desires. Thanks to antiquated notions on gender and marriage, Americans are held in a constant and perpetual state of unfulfilled lust. It sickens me.

Anger

If there’s one thing that Americans are guilty of its anger. Everyone is mad. People scream into mobile phones. Men beat their wives. Women beat their husbands. Drivers take out their aggression on each other. The nightly news is full of stories of the generic office worker snapping under the oppressive weight of the system and pumping his office mates full of holes. Two people accidentally brush each other. They yell and snap in a blind furry. The country goes to war at the drop of two buildings and a pile of false evidence – twice. It sickens me.

Greed

If there’s one thing that Americans are guilty of its greed. Americans own copious amounts of stuff. Not anything in particular, just stuff. Old cars, barbeque sets, inflatable furniture, stuffed “collectable” animals, old magazines, rusty garden tools, pants, tables and chairs, light fixtures, snow globes, chewing gum wrappers. So many things. So much stuff. Why do Americans keep so much stuff? There isn’t any reason for most of it. In fact, Americans could live without almost all of it! The insatiable love of material possessions runs so thick through Americas veins that the country is overrun with pure and utter rubbish collected under every mattress, in every garage, and in every back yard. It sickens me.

Sloth

If there’s one thing that Americans are guilty of its sloth. Americans don’t walk to the corner store to buy a loaf of bread. They drive. Americans don’t get up to change the channel on the television. They use a remote. Americans no longer cook a meal from scratch. They use the microwave and a TV dinner if the drive-thru is too inconvenient. Americans no longer have the patience to wait in line at the grocery store to check out. Instead they use websites to have food delivered to their doorsteps. The deliverymen even bring it inside and, for a tip, will unload the food into the fridge. If a shovel is handy, they’ll unload it directly into a waiting mouth. It sickens me.

Since returning to the states at the end of September I’ve been experiencing a wide range of tumultuous emotions about America, Americans, and what it mea
ns to be from America and an American. I’m still coming to terms with the fact that, like it or not, I am American and that America is my country. More often than not I’m sickened by what surrounds me. More often than not I’m shocked by the true audacity of America. Lately though, I’ve come to accept that this is my country and, for better or for worse, I love it. Its home. No matter what happens in the world this always has been and always will be my country. Now where’s the next flight out of here?!

vinyl love

My love for vinyl records is only suprassed by my love for fine cuisine. if i could eat out every night, i would!

5 records for 3 bucks. i LOVE the crazy little music shop in downtown c-town. all classical, of course. i’m going back maybe tomorrow to buy some more. only got thru the 1 buck or less classical section b4 the store decided to close early. im really hopefully i’ll find some more kickass music. right now i’ve got on some mussorgsky. pictures at an exhibiton to be exact. next up is night on bald mountain. i cant hardly wait! i love listening to symphonies i’ve played before.

post turkey stress syndrom

even if i did get PTS, i think that it’d have been no problem this weekend.

all that gluttony and i still didn’t gain a pound!

i also got to try some new and exhotic dishes over the holiday weekend. for a few minutes i thought my back wasn’t going to let me clean the plate, but luckily for me, the vertebra popped back into place. not a scrap was left! i tried going back for more, but the chef was too sore from prepairing such a wonderful feast to make any more.

now that the fun is done, its time for some w0rk. sch00l w0rk that is. how thrilling