Great American Pastimes, Mena Brazinski
American pastimes I think are more accurate than baseball, in order from least to most fitting:
Starting off strong with perfecting the art of a firm handshake, then, perfecting the art of a firm hand job, followed by telling Monica Lewinsky jokes, then-- relating to Monica Lewinsky.
(Feeling sorry for Monica Lewinsky did not make the list.) Up next is being resilient, having guts and grit, followed by dying of preventable and pre-existing causes. Then we have grinning and bearing it, grinning and bearing arms, then bare arms in wife beaters. After that-- wife beaters.
Lacking discretion and tact and class, and class solidarity, and regular solidarity, and using your fingers to add. Giving head, but not receiving head, not because it’s un-American, but because it feels more French– because the French are slutty. Being exiled also feels more French, like someone told Napoleon to fuck off, and he followed both of those instructions. And so, it does not make the list, because I am not a yellow-bellied traitor.
Calling people yellow bellied traitors.
The comes denying climate change, asking stupid questions, and watching true crime documentaries without wincing. Pseudoscience, psychoanalysis, misusing the word gaslighting, going broke paying for gas, going broke. Drag queens, drag racing, and calling people faggots.
Gender policies, gender politics, gender performance, performative activism, inaction, action movies, making bucket lists, kicking the bucket, being gay, lying about being gay, and crossing rivers in Delaware in the middle of the night. Picking fights at Christmas, picking fights at Thanksgiving, picking fights. Rooting for underdogs, ignoring the past, and removing all context when quoting philosophers.
Moral panics, moral outcry, moral victories, keeping up appearances, keeping up the Kardashians, shitting on poor people. Being underqualified, over-confident, ignoring inflation, inheriting wealth. Writing and drafting and sending passive aggressive emails with a carefully curated signoff, write-offs, raffles at benefits, benefits, hating Benedict, pretending everything is fine.
Rolling ankles and eyes and joints and seeking medical attention for none of it. Seeking attention, being denied pensions, raising tensions, and talking too much about the college you went to. Attending hangings, cutting class, class warfare, unfair wages, waging war.
Faking neutrality, taking pharmaceutical drugs, leaving and never looking back—but again, that feels more French. Studying history and learning absolutely nothing from it, and sociology, economics, biology, psychology, international relations, women’s and gender Studies, and Sex Ed. Chasing tail (as in sex), chasing tail (as in hunting), blazing trails (as in pillaging) thinking, praying, and fearing the unknown.
Believing in conspiracy theories, pretending to read theory, being work-weary, burning bridges and crosses and books and out. Further down on the list is queerbaiting, then queer bashing,
white washing, white-picket fences, picketing, crossing picket lines, doing lines, doing time, and wasting it. Bootstrapping, bootlicking, bad-mouthing, bar-crawling, day-drinking, cherry-picking, doomsday-prepping, grudge-holding, hate-fucking, witch-hunting, shot-gunning, price-gouging, pearl-clutching, prick-sucking, nail-biting, trademarking, telling your “your mom” jokes and creating political propaganda. Watching the dodgers, draft-dodging, drafting eulogies and love letters and incident reports.
This poem is a eulogy. This poem is a love letter. This poem is an incident report. As you can tell, I am a fan of great American compound verbs.
For instance, this is a country of British-hating, qar-winning, red, white, and blue-blooded patriots. Who, even more than they love baseball, love hockey, love rodeos, and Halloween, and masochism, and Civil War reenactments. If you are noticing a pattern here, it is anything to do with a certain amount of costuming, and spectatorship, and blood.
Thank you. God bless America.