You Little Shits
I’m so glad there’s a new Fast and Furious movie. That’s just what Hollywood needs to do right now: release another high gloss, widely promoted mainstream film that glamorizes street racing. There aren’t enough douchebags driving around in expensive cars as it is, swerving in and out of traffic and causing accidents and deaths on a daily basis in and around Los Angeles County.
I realize that I sound like a crotchety old man here, and I’m sure you can picture me puttering around in my 96 Honda Civic like a scared granny on the road. Let me just clarify that like any other red blooded male, I enjoy driving fast. The difference between me and say, an 18 year old with a brand new tricked out Mustang street racing at night, or a corporate type with a BMW going 90 through rush hour traffic, is this: I DO NOT WANT TO DIE. I also do not want to kill someone (at least not by accident, on the freeway). These are the basic qualities that separate me from a TOTAL FUCKING DOUCHEBAG. And let me tell you, there are plenty of those in this city already.
So please, Hollywood, I beg you: make as many torture porn flicks as you want. Make as many silly drug comedies as you want. But please, lay off the drag racing fetish material. The type of person these films appeal to is very suggestible. It is the type of person who actually pays attention to car commercials. It is the type of person who speeds up when the rest of the traffic is slowing down. It is the type of person who swerves in and out of traffic so they can beat other cars to the next stop light. Don’t give them any more encouragement!
Also, if you are one of the aforementioned douchebags: maybe you can try making all the other traffic on the road disappear using the weight of your collective egos. Then you can zip around like little pixies without endangering any human lives except your own. Until you achieve this feat, please be aware that I am trying to remain calm, but will probably eventually go Bronson on your ass. (And I’m talking Death Wish 3 armor piercing bullets Bronson, not Mr. Majestyk melon farmer Bronson.)