It’s a Buffy State of the Union

There’s really no need to bother with the formalities. As I understand it from Barack Obama, the state of our union relies heavily on winning the future, or tolerating the present or pretending to be enamored by the past. These three activities are simply not worth my time. Gratuitous, masturbatory celebrity displays of self-congratulation have no merit when they fail to include a red carpet, Ryan Seacrest, or reactionary shots of Jack Nicholson, though, quite honestly, if you put a robe on Jack Nicholson and mashed him in between Ruth Bader Ginsberg and Sonia Sotomayor, the home viewing audience would merely think Elena Kagan was having a bad hair day.

But back to reality. Personally speaking, the Kardashians are still employed. Ergo, America remains in decline and will remain in such decline for the foreseeable future. End of the State of the Union story. Actually, even the Kardashians are a ray of light and an exemplary standard for purely American opportunism. An economic plan that includes an individual reality television show for every American would be based further in reality than any presented Tuesday evening.

Now, I know you are all wondering, “Buffy, were you given the chance to deliver your own State of the Union, what would you say?” Fear not, fans. Ladies and Gentlemen, pets, Congresspersons, celebrity babies, failed comedians and denizens of Crooked Copy, the state of our Union is strong.

In this past year, I have come to appreciate democracy. Consumer choice has driven significant developments in the world of consumable goods. This year, bacon flavored vodka was invented, combining two of my favorite foods. Next year, I expect more of this.

Sadly, however, not everything is so rosy. So long as Snooki has a place on television, Americans should fear for it’s economic, cultural and socio-political future.

Also, America, we are facing a crushing problem, one that is systemic. America, you cannot wear your pajamas at all times. It is time to put down the Pink and keep your loving relationship with loungewear in the bedroom where it belongs. Leggings are not pants. Pajamas are not jeans. Short pants are unacceptable in formal situations. For that matter, formal short pants are unacceptable in any situation. I am not saying we must commit to the standards of dress associated with our forefathers. No, definitely not, particularly given that a number of fashion trends of their day were a reaction the overwhelming stench of body odor. But we must admit, as a nation, that even we are strong enough to wear real pants.

For that matter, you are over 35 and have a word printed on your ass, you should be beaten with your own handbag. If that handbag is Juicy Couture or contains a small dog, you should be beaten with my handbag.

On to foreign policy. As you may be aware, all foreigners are assholes. As such, we must protect our borders and preserve that which makes America great: our ability to fully recognize douchebaggery in our midst, contain it and extradite it to less desirable locations already plagued and marked lost causes, such as New Jersey. In 2011, we must maintain our commitment to eradicating this menace in all it’s forms. I propose, therefore, that we hunt down this man named Ed Hardy wherever he lurks. We shall also outlaw shoulder pads and, with them, Chloe Sevigny.

In 2011, we should commit to improving our domestic approaches to controlling terrorism. I propose that every TSA search undertaken this year be preceded by, at least, dinner and a movie, if not flowers, Starbucks and two shots of Absolut Citron.

In 2011, we will also trade the United Nations to Europe. In return, they will give us a decent version of Top Gear and pledge to keep both Madonna and Gwyneth Paltrow. There will be a clause allowing for the extradition of Madonna to an unnamed country in Africa. Reverse adoption is allowed. Also, by Top Gear, I clearly mean, “only Jeremy Clarkson.”

In 2011, we will also get tough on terrorism abroad. I propose a unique, yet terrifically harsh plan. All rogue nations will submit to our power and clear cultural superiority or risk an ironclad goat embargo. Should that not strike fear into the hearts of America’s enemies worldwide, and escalation should become necessary, we will demand that our enemies abandon their America-hating ways or we will send Ke$ha.

It is truly their choice.

In 2011, I also propose that we make great strides into space. Progress in this frontier led us out of the Cold War and into an era of polyester suits, Republican Presidents, aviator sunglasses and Kevin Bacon, and in order to usher in a second age of American glory, it is necessary that we pursue our dreams into the stars. Coincidentally, we plan to launch Lady Gaga into orbit dressed as Sputnik. Symbolism is powerful. Human symbolism is eternal.

In conclusion, America, in this time of great cultural and philosophical upheaval, we must demand that our elected officials be held to higher standards. From this day forward, we as a country will not tolerate airbrushed tans or vests. We will also no longer tolerate Joe Biden in any of his forms, though such a program has been in place for a while now.

I will wrap it up with this. The future is in your hands, America. Resist. Refudiate. Rhianna.

Thank you and good night.


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