It's time to stop letting the tools, douches and their various iterations run this place. And while my arsenal (until Sunday) is more metaphorical than actual, I hope my retardulous musings, overextended metaphors and sophomoric wit have at least provided you with a respite from your inevitable daily doses of DC doucheiness.
Let's face it. DC is not the easiest town to live in for those of us who don't fit this city's khaki standard. It reminds me a bit of an old Czech cartoon, in which Krtek, the infinitely cute cartoon mole created by Zdenek Miler, accidentally finds himself in a rather unwelcoming zoo. To survive and eventually get along in the zoo, little Krtek (who looks like he's about to shank a bitch above) has to try to tiptoe past a ginormous elephant who's after his ass; escape from the jowls of a retarded pelican; convince a turtle not to throw his butt in the water; bitch-slap a baby ostrich, laugh in its face then get chased down by its crazy siblings; clutch onto an asshole monkey's tale for dear life; and, finally deal with a sick and weeping angry lion. (I trust you inserted your own similes and metaphors where you saw fit.)
Now Krtek could've just crawled back into the ground from where he came, but he's either too stubborn or too stupid to simply give up. He was going to rule this zoo. And so he took action. Through his quick thinking and fearlessness, Krtek performed some DIY surgery on the lion, garnering him the respect of the rest of the zoo. What he did shocked the zoo's inhabitants, but as soon as the lion realized Krtek had saved him from his world of pain, the rest of the zoo came around and worshiped him like a golden god.
And here is where I normally would boast that The Anti DC is doing for DC what Krtek did for that lion, but I won't. DC may be a hot mess à la Ms. Spears or a lion with a toothache (really, what's the difference?), and this blog may strive to be the intervention or oral surgeon to put an end to the madness, but a blog is a blog is a blog. There's only so much that typing on an iBook G4 circa early 2005 can do. And so, I propose that my niche be that of amusing distraction -- a sassy song-and-dance routine, if you will -- from the normal DC drudge. And while hopefully some of the theories, reviews and observations I offer can perform a service for some of you, ultimately The Anti DC (as long as I persevere as the only writer) will remain a narcissistic and self-serving endeavor. But then again, what blog isn't?
And now that I've hit my existential quota for the
PS -- And for reals, to those of you both in and out of the Beltway who can stand or, dare I say, enjoy The Anti DC, I want to express my sincere (no, really!) gratitude. I really do love the feedback (good or bad) and hope my sick and twisted thoughts can continue to make you laugh, cringe, cry, shout, add, subtract, work it out, pet a dog, tie your shoes, dance, blink, write or otherwise take care of business. Capital "X", capital "O."