Wednesday, January 18, 2006

Indians 1, Cowboys 1

Right now, Tonto is laughing.
I’m not one for following any form of movie awards, like emmys, globes, Oscars, whatever. That overhyped drivel is nothing more than a statement to the world that we Americans have our heads completely up our asses with totally messed up priorities. Besides that obvious revelation, I couldn’t escape the media blitz on one of the recently aired Hollywood spectacles. Hearing the theme over and over again, I’m brought to a trans-generational institution of America – the cowboy.
Ok – get your mental picture of what a cowboy should be. Thanks to Big Media (which is an earthly subsidiary of Satan’s empire) we’re in serious danger of losing that image. C’mon, a cowboy is some open-ranged, bow legged tobacco spittin sun burned horse riding sonofabitch that loves only one girl and can keep that Marlboro lit even during a spring torrent. We’re talking about John Wayne, Clint Eastwood, Slim Pickens, and even those other Hollywood cowpokes like Roy Rogers, Gene Autry and dare I say it Clayton Moore (a.k.a. the Lone Ranger). Let’s get real and talk about the really bad asses like Jesse James, Wyatt Earp, Billy the Kid, Wild Bill Hickock and whole Dalton Gang.
Those M-F’ers were cowboys.
Bad news, pardners. Welcome to the 21st century where we no longer are allowed to play “Cowboy and Indians.” Back when it was cool to do that, because you got the least favorite kid in the group to be the Injun and you ganged up on him and kicked his ass. It was American. Well, we boomers and gen X’ers grew up, we saw the Red Man crying on teevee with all those pollution commercials, and some of us went gay.
Yup – some of our generation looked a little too close inwards and fell in love. They went on to be people like everybody else, and closets everywhere got a real spring cleaning. Whatever. It don’t bother me.
But – as we all have noticed that Hollywood has nothing new in the ways of a conscious or a semblance of anew idea when it comes to material, those pesky film makers have tread upon an institution. We come to the crux of my dilemma – since when are gay cowboys cool?
I just don’t see the Outlaw Josey Wales holding back on his .45 to give a little nod and wink to yonder cowpoke. Slim Pickens rode an H-bomb, not a young Tom. I’m not gonna touch the Lone Ranger inferences, they’re just too easy. All those Hollywood cowboys from pre-1965 were by today’s standards a little weak on the testosterone.
But damn – the whole world is enthralled with this Humpback Mountain movie. I dare say even the Microsoft Assistant could have helped the viewer find a better movie.
“I see you want to watch a cowboy movie, do you need help?”
OR
“I see you want to watch a romance, do you need help?”
I see a few million of you should have clicked YES.
Cowboys plus romance equals the lead female dying at the end. Done. End of plot twist.
Am I too conservative here? It really doesn’t matter, because with the way the weather has been and the global political climate as of late, it’s probably the end of the world. No need to stock up on canned goods. TP, maybe.
/me shakes head in shame
What’s next? Gay pirates? Damn. Penzance.

1 Comments:

Blogger The Life of Bill said...

Gay Pirates? Did you see Pirates of the Carribean? Johny Depp was definitely a little light in the loafers.....as far as "Rub My Back Mountain" my philosophy is as follows:

#1-Who Knows?
#2-Who Cares?
#3-Why Bother?

3:45 PM  

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