Won't You Be My Enemy?

I've been thinking a lot about enemies lately.

Although I don't know for sure, I think I've gone through most of my life without having made many enemies, which some of you who read this blog might find astounding or unbelievable given the apparent size and profanatory proclivities of my mouth. Sure, I've offended people here in there-- like that fuckstick over there-- but enemies? People actively plotting against me and conspiring to have a hefty hand in my doom or demise? I don't think I have many of those.

Then again, I could be wrong. I was recently elected board president of an amateur theatre group. If you've seen "Waiting for Guffman" you know this can only portend very bad things.

As president, I'm bound to do things that will piss people off-- this is an inevitability that folks like Barack Obama and Warren G. Harding can attest to. In fact, I suppose it's rather fitting to write about enemies on President's Day (you're reading it the day after President's Day, because I've finally figured out how to delay posting and ensure regularity without the use of "Fiber One") as presidents have had to contend with a whole slew of enemies at different times in this country's life.

Can you believe there was a time when we were scared of the Russians?

I mean, seriously. Don't those people eat raw potatoes and old stockings for dinner? Don't all of their women over the age of thirty-six look like Andy Rooney? They build cars out of antique washing machine components-- and we all went and hid under our school desks over them.

Amazing.

We were pretty afraid of the Germans back in the day, too, but that at least made sense. Under Hitler, they were an enemy worth gnawing your fingernails and shitting your pants over. Same with the Japanese. Fortunately, neither are very scary these days. I mean, say "Germany" to the average American and ask for an immediate response and you'll get "Oktoberfest" or "Heidi Klum" and the descendents of kamikaze pilots are now stone-faced businessmen, jostling for position on the train in their jet-black suits, black ties, and Nokia cellphones from which colorful "Hello, Kitty" charms dangle and jangle.

We've never been particularly scared of the Irish or the Icelandic people. America never seems very scared of Israelis. I am, but then, I was raised by one. I thought we might not be afraid of any country that begins with the letter "I" but then I remembered "Iran" and "Iraq" and we need to sleep with the light on as long as those two exist, churning away at nuclear weapons and generally killing everybody.

We're more afraid of the Tata Nano than we are of India. I suppose we were bothered by Mussolini, but not really Italians in general, since we all think that they're just a bunch of fat, jovial chefs with curly black moustaches who run around going, "Aye! Dat's a spicy meat-a-ball-ah!" all day. Nobody in America knows where Indonesia is, so I guess they're not scared of Indonesians. I wasn't particularly scared of Indonesians on our honeymoon in Bali. At least, I wasn't until I witnessed the flight crew of our plane getting frisked by the police on the runway in Jakarta before take-off.

As the Olympics roll along their merry way with only one fatality thusfar, and accidental at that, everybody's talking about how we're so friendly with Canada, and how Canada isn't our enemy. All this talk reminds me of how my old high school classmate, Ted, who used to bike three miles to school in the winter wearing shorts, a wife-beater and a down vest, once remarked,

"Yeah, we love Canada-- until we decide that we need a big parking lot. Then we'll go over there and bulldoze the whole fucking place. AND THEN NUKE THE MOON!"

Sometimes I wonder who our next national enemy will be. Sure, it could be predictable like North Korea or maybe that lingering fear... China. But I like to fantasize about an enemy that comes at you like a surprise birthday party, jumping out from behind the curtains screaming, "SURPRISE!" in that shrill, unexpected way that makes you jump and pee yourself, just a little bit. Like, what if we got invaded by Corsica? Or maybe Wales gets a serious bug up its ass and decides to obliterate East St. Louis or Natchez. I would like to see Tonga try to fuck our day right up-- wouldn't that make for an amazing headline? I think the time has come for an exciting enemy-- an unexpected enemy. An enemy we can enjoy having, for Christ's sake. How about the Moldovans? I wonder what are those quiet little fuckers up to these days.

God. Russia. What the hell were we smoking?