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Dale Earnhardt was NOT, I repeat NOT, an American hero. A real American hero is a firefighter or a volunteer at a soup kitchen. If Dale Earnhardt is indeed a champion, he is truly Champion Of The Dumb Asses. I'm not saying it isn't sad that he's dead, I'm sure his son will think long and hard for about five minutes tops about the fragility of the human existence before he goes right back to driving cars as fast as possible until he runs until a wall and blows up, his insides splattering all over the bleachers just like Daddy.
"Dale was the Michael Jordan of our sport," explained Humpy Wheeler, president of Lowe's Motor Speedway near Charlotte. "To think he is not around anymore is incomprehensible. This is a terrible, terrible loss and, for me, it ranks right up there with the death of JFK." This sort of statement is not surprising, coming from a man who prefers to be called Humpy.
NASCAR isn't even a sport, for God sakes. Basketball and baseball are sports. Driving a car isn't a sport, more of a skill. I'm sure it takes coordination to make those turns and remember to pull over and get gas and all that. But can you name me one NASCAR driver who possesses a "athletic" body? I think not. These guys look like they were going to go man a schooner, light up some Winstons, and kick back with an 84-pack of Budweiser. If these guys are athletes, I hate to see what out of shape looks like.
Dale Earnhardt made Ty Cobb look like Shirley Temple. After Jeremy Mayfield beat him at Poconoco Raceway last June, Dale greeted the other drivers by flicking them off. After seven near-death experiences from car crashes over the course of his career, Dale decided the most intelligent move would be to continue racing highly-flammable automobiles for a living. The always progressive-thinking Dale protested fiercely against restricting speeds, something that possibly could've saved his life. "If you're not a race driver, stay the hell home. Don't come here and grumble about going too fast. Get the hell out of the race car if you've got feathers on your legs or butt. Put a kerosene rag around your ankles so the ants won't climb up and eat that candy ass." I guess getting your head smashed open is the ultimate macho act.
The only thing worse than NASCAR is its fans. Put down a few hay bales, crank up the AC/DC, and thousands of dirty water coolers will appear out of nowhere toted by mullet-sporting white trash hillbillies, their hairspray queen love interests/cousins, and the illiterate offspring. If they had a motto, it would be "Take it ALL off, sugar!" If they were a developing country, their main exports would be date rape, fruit pies, and NRA membership cards. Hang out at one of their tailgating parties for more than five minutes and you'll begin to wonder if Darwin's theory about the survival of the fittest even applies anymore.
Sadly, the canonizing of worthless celebrities does not end there. News stands sold millions of commemorative Princess Diana issues, a spoiled brat who thought having a cush life wasn't easy and chose to get in a car with a drunk driver. What reason does she have for trying to kill herself, the tea is cold? The biscuits are stale? America came to a stand still watching body parts of JFK Jr. float to shore. How many times did he fail his bar exam again? Sonny Bono, a sub-standard musician as it is, crashes into a tree because he doesn't know how to ski and people are writing Cher letters? Do you know any of these people? How have they enriched your life, really? Do you think they actually care about you? Most of us don't know the first names of our neighbors, but the whole world shuts down if Meg Ryan or some other idiot actor from California gets yet another divorce. For the love of God, start working on improving your own surrounding community instead of mourning over yet another has-been celebrating dying as a result of risks he/she chose to take.
Nate Dogg resides in Minneapolis and edits Ad Hominim, a quarterly 'zine that focuses mainly on humor, politics, music, and Abraham Lincoln. If you would like a copy, kindly send $3 to: 1401 Portland Ave. S. #C303 Minneapolis, MN 55404.