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So "intellectually disabled" people everywhere are up in arms about Ben Stiller's new movie, Tropic Thunder.

I saw the film yesterday. It was incredibly vulgar, gory, awkward, and repulsive in many ways, so much so that even a self-proclaimed desensitized person like myself felt uncomfortable during some scenes. It exploits these moral sensitivities to strengthen its satire and larger moral lesson. Literature of the Restoration period and early 18th century, of which I've read much this summer, uses the same tactics toward the same goals. Jonathan Swift's fantastical satire Gulliver's Travels, Delarivier Manley's thinly-veiled royal exposé The New Atlantis, and Daniel Defoe's immoral criminal account Moll Flanders are just three examples of the long tradition of shocking social commentary. While it's somewhat upsetting that culture still suffers from much of the same obvious flaws of the 17th and 18th centuries, it's equally troubling that certain groups still so frequently miss the point of satire and misinterpret criticisms as the views of the authors.

So when the headline news tells me that disability groups are boycotting and even protesting Ben Stiller's film for demeaning "retards," my Facepalm Advisory System is heightened to orange: "High Risk of Facepalm Devastation."


There's not much of an argument to make here; Ben Stiller is clearly mocking the notion that taking half-retarded roles will win you an Oscar, not poking fun at retards just to aggravate and alienate a group of people. If you're too intellectually challenged to discern this sort of thing, then of course Tropic Thunder probably isn't your box of wine. What I find more ridiculous, though, is the idea of making the "R" word taboo.

The "N" word was used to objectify black slaves. The main logical reason why the word is offensive now is because it no longer served a purpose after slavery was abolished; no purpose other than to open old wounds, to objectify black people in a demeaning way, or as an attempt to instill the arbitrary racial hierarchies that were proven incorrect and offensive.

Treating words like "retard" or "midget" in the same way is ludicrous because they are words with a singular, practical meaning. They are words, like any others, with roots and suffixes that invariably describe what they mean. Furthermore, replacing them with words like "handicapped" and "dwarf" solves nothing, because they, like their predecessors, are susceptible to the same negative connotations that the banned words accrued. "Fat" and "obese" mean the same thing; likewise, they share the same risk of developing negative connotations.

Why didn't the anti-intellectualism of the first half of the 20th century lead to the banning of the word "intellectual," or the "I" word? Probably because intelligent people realize that despite their smart-aleckism, they still have good qualities regardless of what anyone says about them. Like midgets and fat people, retarded individuals also possess good qualities (although deductive reasoning is clearly not their strength). So what's next, douchebags upset over people using the "D" word? Assholes and the "A" word?

Words don't offend people; well, they do, but it's the people's fault. I still want to say "Words don't offend people, people offend people," though.

Then again, a satire that doesn't offend anyone is a failed satire. Tropic Thunder is, to those who can understand and appreciate the lampoons, a certain achievement of contemporary culture. It proves, along with other recent films like WALL-E, that it's still possible for non-documentaries to make an argument. Literature can be used for much more than simple entertainment; culture is about more than just enjoyment; and Ben Stiller is the Jonathan Swift of our time.

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Let me tell you about chocolate. Chocolate rests atop the peak of human achievement, next to blow-darts, confetti, and snow because it's cold up there. But it's not cold enough for the chocolate to stay solid in your hand. It never is. Every time I hold a chocolate bar, it melts all up ins. This is due to the low melting point of mercury, which, we often forget, is a chief constituent of chocolate.

Chocolate is also made of beans, which puts it in the same category as tofu, burritos, and beanbag chairs. Only one of those is inedible (tofu). Beans were previously used as currency by the Anglo-Saxon tribes, which later they converted into chocolate, then chocolate bars, then gold-wrapped chocolate coins, and then, of course, gold coins. The rest is history. But where did the chocolate go, you ask?

Keen/Quing Pat, the only transgendered monarch in England's otherwise anatomically-correct history, ordered that all chocolate be dispatched from English shores after having caused The Black Death (a.k.a. Death by Chocolate). It also caused Communism, the Holocaust, and the Vietnam War, during which American troops sought cocoa in the dangerous jungles of a mysterious, nameless, forgotten land.

But hooah! they found it! And now, every year, millions chocolate bunnies fall victim to senseless hoarding, brutality, and, ultimately, slaughter at the ravenous, jagged teeth of the babies those very soldiers tried so hard to kill.

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To celebrate Cinco de Mayo, I figured I'd criticize a segment of the Mexican food industry. Taco Bell has no idea what it's doing. With its uncompromising marketing ploys, Taco Bell is soiling what I assume are thousands of years of Mexican cultural history.

The taquito is a mainstay of Mexican cuisine. Usually bagged and frozen to be sold in bulk at supermarkets, the taquito represents true Mexican entrepreneurship. These small, greasy, but crunchy delights are yet another repackaging of the tried and true Mexican recipe: beef and tortilla. Taquitos naturally fall under the Taco phylum of the Mexican culinary taxonomy, featuring meat contained within a hard tortilla shell (albeit rolled tight like a Cuban cigar and not left open like a border gate).



So where did Taco Bell go wrong? A relatively recent special item of theirs was the so called "taquito" combo, in which two small burritos were marketed under the name of the famous, traditional Mexican food item.



What's wrong, Taco Bell? Ordered too many burritos from your sweatshops and had trouble selling them all? Taco Bell's theft of the "taquito" name for their greedy purposes is a testament to the damage that capitalism inflicts on tradition, honor, and decency. Even worse is the fact that uneducated consumer whores now think that what Taco Bell sold were actually taquitos, when in reality they were nothing more than miniature burritos. Based on my educated understanding of the Mexican language, if a taquito is a miniature taco, then these can only be dubbed "burrito-itos." The resemblance is unmistakable:



Taco Bell, I demand that you remove this fraudulent product from your menu, or face the facts and rename it the "burrito-ito."

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On the morning of January 31, 2007, a heinous act of terrorism takes place. The location is Boston, Massachusetts, where hired mercenaries Peter Berdovsky and Sean Stevens had placed dozens of Jihadist bomb-replicas. In mid-morning, the hoax devices achieve their goal and incite panic in the masses of the American city. A bomb squad is called by law-abiding citizens, which identifies the devices as sharing multiple similarities with explosive units. The matter is resolved by spraying the devices with a high-pressure water hose, the only safe method of effectively disarming terrorist weapons of mass destruction.

But the goal, it turns out, was not to destroy precious Bostonian landmarks; much more insidious motives were at work. Let me explain a little bit about these devices. The similarities to bona fide terrorist explosives are evident: "an identifiable power source, circuit board with exposed wiring, and electrical tape," because terrorists are sloppy workers and never become more adept than 4th graders. Take a look at the poor penmanship on these terrorist envelopes. But I digress; the devices in question were described by Massachusetts Attorney General Martha Coakley to have "a very sinister appearance," which is, in accordance with Massachusetts law, grounds for suspicion of terrorism (or more famously in the 1600s, witchcraft). Sure, at first they seem harmless. In the daytime, they appear as inactive hunks of silicon:



However, they transform into glaring beacons of terrorism at nightfall, potentially triggering precise explosions or signalling local Jihadists to strike the marked locations with hellfire and brimstone with the aid of their malevolent deities:



Very sinister. The extended middle finger is a known Jihadist code, a secret hand gesture that President George W. Bush made public in an effort to spread the word about shifty terrorist dealings. But an investigation into the seemingly humorous cartoon character portrayed reveals an even sinisterer plot. Gracing the LED placards is a "Mooninite," an allegorical being that inhabits the surface of the moon. Anyone versed in the Qur'an and Islamic culture knows that the moon-god is worshipped as one of their main deities. Thanks to this information revealed through interrogation in Iraqi dungeons, our intelligence has made this plot all too transparent. The "Mooninites" are now known to symbolize the fierce Jihadist resistance to peace and civilization.



The legal action pending against Berdovsky and Stevens reached a dead end when the left-wing, liberal judge interjected about the terrorists' goal to strike fear into America's hearts: "It appears the suspects had no such intention but the question should be discussed in a later hearing," displaying such lethargic procrastination of which only a democrat Jew could be capable. Inaction is a crime far worse than terrorism, and with reports that these "Mooninites" have been popping up in cities all over America, it seems as though the terrorists have already won.

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Let's face it. You're a child prodigy in your mid-40s and you're losing your edge. Your peers are talking behind your back and laughing to your face. "He peaked too soon," they all say with smug grin on their face.

What are you to do?

In this modern society, you have two options: take the constructive criticism for the better (and continue to fail), or become a super-villain. Yes, super-villains actually exist; superheroes, however, do not. Nobody in their right mind would put all of their resources and time into stopping crime. The only reason someone would do that is if Greasy Sal the mob lord/pizza aficionado killed their parents and they wanted revenge. Some supposed superheroes claim revenge is their motivation (Batman, I'm talking to you!), but revenge is kind of villainous, don't you think? Some super-scientists are indeed capable of holding grudges, but we'll talk about that later.

The first component to becoming a successful super-villain is to come up with a kick-ass super-villain nickname. Think about your childhood, think about your past. What defines you as a person? Had an obsession with lollipops and lived in the suburban Midwest as a kid? You're The Sucker. Have a collection of commemorative plates lining your hallway wall? The Fine Chinaman. Raised by a flock of migratory water-foul? The Loon. Developing a name and mantra is a necessary step in achieving world-renown wickedness.

The second vital component of a worthwhile career in super-villainy is a nearly unlimited budget with which you can work your wonders. You're going to need some major resources if you want to build that army of bulletproof police-car crushing lobster robots. If you're not the heir of a successful hotel chain or the sole compatriot of a lottery winner, this is where you'll find trouble getting into super-villainy. Some think that an extravagant budget is not necessary to become a super-villain. This belief is false. If you are operating on a small budget, you are not a super-villain, you are a villain. Super-villains are infamous and hated by many. Villains are hated by the two people whose car radios they've stolen. What you should choose to do with your budget depends on your interests, but let me suggest employing an army of able henchmen. Developing some super-weapons utilizing the concepts of atomic fission and pulsar electron emission will prove to be very handy as well.

Once financial matters are taken care of, the next logical step is to find an arch-enemy. There are many super-villains that hate each other, but the most worthwhile and rewarding experience is finding a neutral super-scientist to arch. Find someone that hasn't yet had their dreams dashed, someone who is still respected in the scientific community. That way, when you crush him and all that he stands for in the palm of your hand, it'll be all-the-more rewarding, and you'll be all-the-more hated, feared, and yes, revered by your peers.

Note: try to keep a secondary list of possible arch-enemies. No super-villain has ever failed due to hating numerous, if not all, people. Keep in mind that you might want to change your super-villain title to better arch your super-scientist. If you are arching the inventor of double-sided duct tape, for example, you can be the Teflon Avenger. If you are arching the creator of Hungry Hungry Hippos, you can be the Constipated Pachyderm. People will not forget who you are. Prince was still known as "the artist formerly known as Prince."

The final step to cementing your excellence in super-villainy is adjusting your personality. An admirable quality of any super-villain is utter insanity, which nine times out of ten is confused for genius by the scientific community. Try to develop an intense psychological ailment like tripolar disorder, or illogical fear of soft things, grassy places, and/or homonyms. If all else fails, develop an addiction to a personality-altering prescription drug. Only do this, however, until you become famous, or you might suffer some adverse effects after a while. Besides, you can quit anytime you want, right?

With these steps in mind, you should be well on your way to international vileness. Don't fail to make a list of all those peers that talked behind your back and laughed to your face so you don't forget to show them who's laughing now. A really evil, extended laugh like "Mwahahahahaha!!" will do wonders. Pleasant arching, and enjoy your stint in super-villainy.

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