Background: So the J-man borrows one of our cars, and it breaks (likely through no fault of his own). Since he’s got places to be, he borrows another one of our cars. When pops finds out, he’s a little upset, because he figures if you borrow a car and you break it, you get it fixed instead of getting to fix another one.
Pops: “So why does he get to borrow another car?!”
Me: “Because he’s got places to be.”
Pops: “Like where?!”
Me: “He’s got partying that needs to be done.”
Pops: “That’s no reason he should get another car!”
But it is a good reason, dad. Not only does the J-man owe it to himself, not only does he owe it to the Beastie Boys, but he owes it to every red-blooded American to get his ass out there and party. You see, America was not founded on pansy-ass principles like gun ownership and habeas corpus. Four score and seven years ago when our forefathers first layed down the cardboard mat and flipped on those subtle truths expressed to a hip-hop beat, they instead founded America on the principles of overwhelming drumbeats and 1.21 gigawatt stereos. They did everything they could to ensure that nations everywhere would let there be rock.
You see dad, by loaning the J-man that car, you are upholding a long-lasting and important American tradition, a cornerstone of our identity and purpose. America has always been a place of change and power, with an undercurrent of rebellion and resistance to the entrenched authority. These were expressed by the likes of George Washington when he single-handedly defeated the British (using only his wooden dentures as a primitive projectile weapon) at both the Battle of Trenton and at the Battle of Saratoga, and when the same George Washington cloned himself to take the fight to the British at sea. In modern times, George Washington reincarnated is all four original members of Kiss, Dennis Thompson, Jim Morrison, and every single kid who ever started a band in his garage, even if they never hit it big. Dagnabbit pops, the fighting spirit that defines the American soul lives on in these likes.
So go forth and party, J-man! Every time you spill your drink on a couch, you are writing your own Declaration of Independance. Every time a cigarette butt is smashed into the carpet, the British are once again snubbed. Every time a girl rejects you and brings you upstairs, every time a keg is delivered and drained, every bong hit, guitar riff, fireworks explosion and for every single one of us just sitting around waiting for a party, especially in our pants, you uphold those traditions America was founded on. The rest of the world may beat us in population, technical expertise, economic matters, and sheer geographic size (seriousely, Russia is HUGE), but they will never, and I mean NEVER, beat us in that one essential fact that seperates us from the animals:
No matter the circumstances, no matter the times, and no matter the global economic and political status, we will always party.
