Beautifully Unique Sparkleponies: On Myths, Morons, Free Speech, Football, and Assorted Absurdities (2 page)

2. “Many of your fans are opposed to such a view and feel it has no place in a sport that is strictly for pride, entertainment, and excitement.” Holy fucking shitballs. Did you seriously just say that, as someone who’s “deeply involved in government task forces on the legacy of slavery in Maryland”? Have you not heard of Kenny Washington? Jackie Robinson? As recently as 1962 the NFL still had segregation, which was only done away with by
brave athletes and coaches daring to speak their mind and do the right thing, and you’re going to say that political views have “no place in a sport”? I can’t even begin to fathom the cognitive dissonance that must be coursing through your rapidly addled mind right now; the mental gymnastics your brain has to tortuously contort itself through to make such a preposterous statement are surely worthy of an Olympic gold medal (the Russian judge gives you a 10 for “beautiful oppressionism”).

3. This is more a personal quibble of mine, but why do you hate freedom? Why do you hate the fact that other people want a chance to live their lives and be happy, even though they may believe in something different than you, or act different than you? How does gay marriage, in any way, shape, or form, affect your life? If gay marriage becomes legal, are you worried that all of a sudden you’ll start thinking about penis? “Oh shit. Gay marriage just passed. Gotta get me some of that hot dong action!” Will all of your friends suddenly turn gay and refuse to come to your Sunday Ticket grill-outs? (Unlikely, since gay people enjoy watching football too.)

I can assure you that gay people getting married will have zero effect on your life. They won’t come into your house and steal your children. They won’t magically turn you into a lustful cockmonster. They won’t even overthrow the government in an orgy of hedonistic debauchery because all of a sudden they have the same legal rights as the other 90 percent of our population—rights like Social Security benefits, child-care tax credits, Family and Medical Leave to take care of loved ones, and COBRA health care for spouses and children. You know
what having these rights will make gays? Full-fledged American citizens just like everyone else, with the freedom to pursue happiness and all that entails. Do the civil-rights struggles of the past two hundred years mean absolutely nothing to you?

In closing, I would like to say that I hope this letter, in some small way, causes you to reflect upon the magnitude of the colossal foot-in-mouth clusterfuck you so brazenly unleashed on a man whose only crime was speaking out for something he believed in. Best of luck in the next election; I’m fairly certain you might need it.

Sincerely,

Chris Kluwe

PS: I’ve also been vocal as hell about the issue of gay marriage so you can take your “I know of no other NFL player who has done what Mr. Ayanbadejo is doing” and shove it in your close-minded, totally-lacking-in-empathy piehole and choke on it. Asshole.

F
irst off, let me say thank you to all the people who commented on my letter to Emmett C. Burns Jr.

You all give me great hope for the human race—hope that one day we can rise up past the petty differences that divide us and realize we’re all in this together. Perhaps our children won’t look back on our stewardship with regret.

Second, I heard from quite a few sources (including my dad) that the letter would have been more powerful and would have delivered the message better without the swearing, and that those who would refute the point could seize upon my colorful insults to dismiss the main thrust as little more than childish antics and egotistical displays of temper.

Bollocks.

The swearing is there for a reason. What Emmett C. Burns Jr. wrote, what I responded to, was far more disgusting and foul-
minded than any simple scatological reference or genital mash-up. His words degrade the very essence of the English language with their barely hidden venom and intolerant hate; drag it screaming into the muck of iniquity by wrapping a mantle of seeming reasonableness around corruption and control; masquerade as discourse while screaming their very lies to any heaven you care to name—I could go on.

My words? My words are a litmus test for those who would see the truth of a message rather than the package it’s delivered in. I won’t lie; I use those words also because I personally find them entertaining to write and read (as do a large number of other people), but those who argue that my message means nothing simply because I’m referencing a portion of the male anatomy would never have accepted the message anyway. They would have used other excuses to refute it, like “Oh, he’s just a punter,” or “What do you know? You just play football,” or “No one cares what you think, you fag.”

No, my words are meant for those who might be on the fence, those who are initially drawn in due to shock, or laughter, or outrage but then look at what lies beneath, at the truth of the matter. Those people I might reach, might give a quick lightbulb flicker of “Ohhh, so that’s what’s wrong with that argument.” But those who don’t look, who don’t question, who happily treat the symptoms and not the disease—isn’t that the very problem with our politics today? No one is interested in what lies hidden in plain sight beneath what’s said, the glossy dung ball of intolerance and hate buffed to a lustrous gleam by rhetoric and catchphrases.

So here is my gift to you. The exact same letter, but without the oh-so-naughty words, which only mean what we allow them to mean. What will your excuse be this time?

Dear Emmett C. Burns Jr.,

I find it inconceivable that you are an elected official of Maryland’s state government. Your vitriolic hatred and bigotry make me ashamed and disgusted to think that you are in any way responsible for shaping policy at any level. The views you espouse neglect to consider several fundamental key points, which I will outline in great detail (you may want to hire an intern to help you with the longer words):

1. As I suspect you have not read the Constitution, I would like to remind you that the very first, the VERY FIRST, amendment in this founding document deals with the freedom of speech, particularly the abridgment of said freedom. By using your position as an elected official (when referring to your constituents so as to implicitly threaten the Ravens organization) to state that the Ravens should “inhibit such expressions from your employees,” more specifically Brendon Ayanbadejo, not only are you clearly violating the First Amendment, you also come across as a BEAUTIFULLY UNIQUE SPARKLEPONY. What on earth would possess you to be so mind-bogglingly stupid? It baffles me that a man such as yourself, a man who relies on that same First Amendment to pursue your own religious studies without fear of persecution from the state, could somehow justify stifling another person’s right to speech. To call that hypocritical would be to do a disservice to the word. SAD-PUPPY-DOG-EYES hypocritical starts to approach it a little bit.

2. “Many of your fans are opposed to such a view and feel it has no place in a sport that is strictly for pride, entertainment, and excitement.” DISAPPOINTED LEMUR FACE WITH SOLITARY TEAR TRICKLING DOWN TO CHIN. Did you
seriously just say that, as someone who’s “deeply involved in government task forces on the legacy of slavery in Maryland”? Have you not heard of Kenny Washington? Jackie Robinson? As recently as 1962, the NFL still had segregation, which was only done away with by brave athletes and coaches daring to speak their mind and do the right thing, and you’re going to say that political views have “no place in a sport”? I can’t even begin to fathom the cognitive dissonance that must be coursing through your rapidly addled mind right now; the mental gymnastics your brain has to tortuously contort itself through to make such a preposterous statement are surely worthy of an Olympic gold medal (the Russian judge gives you a 10 for “beautiful oppressionism”).

3. This is more a personal quibble of mine, but why do you hate freedom? Why do you hate the fact that other people want a chance to live their lives and be happy, even though they may believe in something different than you, or act different than you? How does gay marriage, in any way, shape, or form, affect your life? If gay marriage becomes legal, are you worried that all of a sudden you’ll start thinking about DANCING CHUBTOAD? “ALACK AND ALAS MY TOP HAT HAS FALLEN. Gay marriage just passed. Gotta get me some of that DELICIOUS STATE FAIR HOT DOG!” Will all of your friends suddenly turn gay and refuse to come to your Sunday Ticket grill-outs? (Unlikely, since gay people enjoy watching football too.)

I can assure you that gay people getting married will have zero effect on your life. They won’t come into your house and steal your children. They won’t magically turn you into a lustful FROLICKING OSTRICH. They won’t even overthrow the
government in an orgy of hedonistic debauchery because all of a sudden they have the same legal rights as the other 90 percent of our population, rights like Social Security benefits, child-care tax credits, Family and Medical Leave to take care of loved ones, and COBRA health care for spouses and children. You know what having these rights will make gays? Full-fledged American citizens just like everyone else, with the freedom to pursue happiness and all that entails. Do the civil-rights struggles of the past two hundred years mean absolutely nothing to you?

In closing, I would like to say that I hope this letter, in some small way, causes you to reflect upon the magnitude of the colossal foot-in-mouth SLIDE WHISTLE TO E-FLAT you so brazenly unleashed on a man whose only crime was speaking out for something he believed in. Best of luck in the next election; I’m fairly certain you might need it.

Sincerely,

Chris Kluwe

PS: I’ve also been vocal as hell about the issue of gay marriage so you can take your “I know of no other NFL player who has done what Mr. Ayanbadejo is doing” and shove it in your close-minded, totally-lacking-in-empathy piehole and choke on it. UNFORTUNATELY PHALLIC HEDGE SCULPTURE.

Dear Jesus,

Can you believe this shit? All around the world, people are claiming that your words give them the right to kill, maim, and torture each other. It’s like they’ve totally forgotten why you went up on that cross in the first place! They’re completely ignoring the fact that you took all that sin and suffering upon yourself so we could have a chance at redemption and not make the same mistakes again and again.

How are things with you and Muhammad in Heaven? You both had a vision of something better here on Earth, but look at the absolute clusterfuck we’ve made of it. No one wants to follow your examples anymore; instead, they look for words written by other men and use them to justify whatever it is they want to believe. When was the last time you guys personally preached
hate, or fear? (And no, I’m not talking about your apostles and followers; those poopstains are in it for themselves.)

When was the last time someone looked at the actual content of your message? Self-sacrifice instead of sacrificing others. Loving your neighbor as yourself, and not loving his car or his wife. Charity to the meek and the poor, not the boastful and rich. How can you even stand to look at the world anymore without closing your eyes in the most epic of face-palms?

Also, can you guys do something about the organized part of religion? I’m pretty sure that suicide bombers and child molesters weren’t in the game plan you two left behind, nor were palaces and worldly power. Why don’t people pay more attention to the parts about love and kindness and less to the archaic rules and regulations that don’t even make sense anymore? Also, seriously, how much do you want to giggle every time you see the pope hat?

What are your thoughts on cell phones, Jesus? I notice that nowhere in the Bible do you talk about cell phones, and I’m really kind of curious what your take on them is. Same with the Internet. Can you imagine being a messiah with access to the Internet? Well, of course you can imagine it, what with the whole Son of God thing, but I’m telling you, it would be amazing if you reappeared today. There’d be nothing but “LOLJESUS” and “I CAN HAZ SALVATION?” memes across every single message board. Honestly, I’m pretty sure your actual message would get down-voted and ignored; sure, you might get a comment or two on Reddit, but that would be it. I doubt
you’d even make the front page of anything other than ChristSpearThrust.gif.

Well, Jesus, I guess in closing, I’d like to say that it’s a good thing you aren’t around today. I can’t imagine you’d be very happy with all the people co-opting your love and tolerance to preach hate and discrimination; I’m pretty sure you kicked over a moneylender’s stall or two the last time you saw that happening (if you wanted to head over to Wall Street right now, though, I don’t think there’d be a lot of sad faces). Here’s hoping that our next millennium turns out better than the last one!

Sincerely,

An Unwashed Heathen

L
osing sucks. It’s the absolute worst feeling in the world, and anyone who tells you that losing is okay is lying to both you and himself. The sensation is like a colony of fire ants gnawing away at your inner abdominals, spitting their venom all over your insides until you feel you have to scream to release the pain. You put in hours of effort during the week practicing the same stupid motions and plays over and over, and then, after time runs out and the lights go off, you’re left with nothing but an aching sense of hurt and regret.

Nothing you fans say to us will make us feel worse than what we’re already saying to ourselves. “You’re a loser,” “You guys suck,” “Why don’t you practice more?”; these are nothing compared to the internal monologue of someone who has ferociously competed for a win and come up short. It doesn’t matter what the player’s job
is or how much he played; when the team fails to win, it’s on all of you, and all of you feel like crap.
What could I have done better? Where could I have made more of a difference? Why didn’t I execute that job perfectly?
All these and more are running endless circles through our minds, a ceaseless train of mocking self-loathing.