Yesterday, Mike made a post about how he found both the employees and customers of Wal-Mart humorous. Some people took offense to this and thought that Mike was being elitist. Guess what? If you can’t make fun of white trash then there’s no one left that you can make fun of. Plus, white trash don’t seem to mind being called “trash” so long as you remember that they’re still white.
Let’s face it, every white person whose ancestors got here before 1900 has a branch of the family that decided to “stay on the farm.” The branch that reads Barron’s and the New Yorker does not have a lot of genetic drift between it and the branch that practices its pig calls. The only real difference is that the trashier branch made a legitimate choice to not be sophisticated. Maybe there’s wisdom in their foolishness, after all the root of the word sophisticated is “sophist”.
What if there was a white trash sophistication? Would they make a movie about it like they did with the sophistication de jour of upper middle class America, wine, like they did in “Sideways”. If they did, here’s what I think it would look like
“On yer Side: A RussAndMike Production”
(scene: Driving in a beat up dodge truck down a beat up road)
Jack: Golly, Miles. Thanks fer taking me up through backcountry Appalachia on a Moonshine tasting trip.
Miles: T’weren’t nothing, Jack. A man only gets engaged a few times in his life. This is least I could after you decided to do the honorable thing with my sister and/or my cousin.
(scene: Out in the woods beside a still with the owner, sporting the finest in overall apparel)
Miles: Now when you take your first sip, see if you go blind. If you don’t, then you know it’s good. Make sure to brush the cheeto dust off your lips before you imbibe.
(Miles sips the clear liquid out of a mason jar. He then savors the sip)
Miles: I’m detecting strong undertones of Corn Mash, very reminiscent of White Lightning ’87. And if I’m not mistaken there’s a whiff, just a whiff, of an actually organic substance in here. Did you add some American Cheese?
Still owner: Nope. That’s just the turpentine workin’ on you.
Miles: Excellent! Do you accept Meth in trade?
