It used to be a favorite ritual: get up early, go to the gym, hope that the City Paper delivery guy shows up before the end of my workout, snag a paper on the way out, and read I Love You, I Hate You over a bowl of shredded cinnamon mini-wheats. But now it’s all ruined!
Isn’t it bad enough that the 2004 presidential election divided the US into residents of Jesusland and a bunch of very sorry Canadian wannabes? Must it also take the fun out of the reader rants and raves? For example:
America: The land of fat, lazy, illiterate assholes
Bush voters: You are the most myopic, backwoods, backward bunch of frat boy-loving hillbillies to walk the face of the earth.
Midwest and South: don’t worry–the people of the North will support your ass through welfare, so you can still buy your beer and ammunition (if you can read that word).
People, these self-righteous rants are no good. Whatever happened to “Kensington slut,” the woman who swore to sleep with every man in Philadelphia? Or the woman who wanted to poke her barista’s eyes out? Sadly, the most recent City Paper had only one example of a good I Hate You:
GRETA: I compare the thought of you to eating razorblades and then allowing a grade-school soccer team to kick me in the stomach until I die of internal bleeding. No wait, that actually sounds appealing next to you, you fucking derelict! I can’t fucking believe you ate the last donut. anonymous.
Bless you, anonymous, whoever you are. Everyone else, stop turning I Love You, I Hate You into a no-fun zone. It makes me sad.