Hello America. How are you? Drew here. Trae is still super busy and Corey is still not super, so you’re stuck with me.
Did yuns know I am a lawyer? Sure explains why I’m kinda an asshole, huh? Or is it the other way round? Well anyway, I am. I was licensed in three states and a public defender for three years. Of all my time in law school and in practice, I think the case that still vexes me the most on a national level is the one known as Citizens United. If you ain’t familiar I’ll summarize it- the case made corporation’s people for legal purposes.
Do what now?
Yeah. I know. It’s kinda wild – Verizon, for example, is a person. Next time your phone call drops for no GD reason and you have to start the serenity prayer to keep murder out of your heart, just remember it is actually a person you’re wantin to kill. I mean, you can’t kill em, because Verizon is NOT a person, but like, they are.
The case is such a big deal our boy Bernie kinda launched his whole campaign as a railin against it. It was one of Occupy Wall Street’s top gripes.
“You sure it wasn’t needin stronger soap, stinkin ass hippies!” – my uncle Dave
The case was about whether it was acceptable to limit the amount of money a company spends on an election. Turns out, the Court decided it is not, because corporations, as people, have constitutional rights. It was already a legal no-no to limit the amount of money a person was allowed to spend. This case made it illegal to limit how much a company can.
Pretty sure all of you can see how this created some, well, issues. If any of you have that cousin who shows up late and red eyed to family gatherings smelling of patchouli and claiming “our government is FOR SALE, MAN” this is the case she’s talkin about.
And frankly it is sad. But unless Hillary beats the marigold maniac in his quest to rule the world (plausible) and makes good on her promise to reverse it (unlikely and perhaps not possible), it is here to stay. Side note – I was thinking the other day that it’s almost midnight on the Trump campaign, so hopefully this dude will turn back into a pumpkin soon. Then I remembered he already is a fuckin pumpkin. Lord.
But it does lend itself to the question – if these corporations are people, what kind of people are they? What sort of people did they used to be? What were they like as kids? High Schoolers?
Y’all, welcome to Corporation High School, the morning after graduation:
Bleary eyed and ridiculously hung over, Remington Arms wakes up in a shiver. He always has been an early riser, even when partying. Truth is, you can’t hunt buck if you sleep in.
Surveying the scene of his house, he begins to remember the evening, how it went down, and how much absolute shit he’s in when his parents get home. He then turns his head to his left, where a passed out and very naked Hostess Brands was snoring.
“GOD DAMNIT! I fucked the cupcake girl?!” he thought.
He’d also fucked up the garage door, he remembered – hundreds of holes in it. His Dad would probably laugh a little at it but his mom would flip her shit. She’s always flipping her shit at him.
“You should be more safe.”
“You have responsibilities when you have power.”
“Gun deaths are an epidemic.”
Ugh, what a bore. He did kinda regret fuckin up the door, though. Everyone was just havin a good time, complimenting him on his aim and prowess and then Wal-Mart had to…
That son of bitch Wal-Mart. Where is he?
It was coming back to him now.
See Remington and L’Oreal Cosmetics had dated for the last two years. He took her to prom and got her to go to church with him. She took him to fancy restaurants where the food was ok but in small proportions and he couldn’t read the menu. He was gonna ask her to marry him probably sophomore year of college. But things don’t always work out. L’Oreal has it in her head she’s gonna move to Paris to study fashion or whatever and that just ain’t a future Remington is in to. He feels France is queer and don’t like guns and other redundant things.
Two weeks before graduation they had got into a big fight in the cafeteria and she’d stormed off telling Remington he didn’t know shit about culture and she could never love someone so brute anyway.
Wal-Mart Benton, who Remington had thought was his best bud, immediately went to comfort her. Fuckin typical of those snake Bentons. They ain’t ever have to work for shit and have absolutely no loyalty.
So fast forward to Remington’s graduation party, and who does L’Oreal show up with? Goddamn piece of shit Wal-Mart. Remington now remembers how Wal-Mart was bragging all night that he was NOT going to college because his parents would create him a job- he is ALWAYS dronin on about how his parents create jobs. Fuck those jobs. The jobs the Benton family create are the shittiest jobs in the entire United States and everyone knows it.
He couldn’t stand seeing her lean on his arm and pretend to laugh at his corny ass jokes. This is who she wanted to replace him with?! This dude has culture?! He ain’t got shit for culture. All his clothes look like they were designed by a flea market and none of em come in sizes below extra large. FUCK Wal-Mart, he’d thought.
And that’s how it came about that he shot up the door. He’d gone out back by the keg to hang out with Anheuser Busch. Anhueser was an odd kid whose parents were German, but everyone liked him. He was really there for people when they needed someone to lean on. It always seemed there was something a little dark underneath the surface, a little sinister even maybe. Like he had a long term plan to ruin everyone’s life. But man, the truth is, everyone loved being around him and he had gorgeous horses he was always letting you pet. Remington found him back there with the beer and two of his Clydesdales. Being around Anhueser when you’re sad just seems to help.
They talked for a bit and that’s when Hostess came over. Remington was always the quiet strong type, but something about being around Anhueser made him a little more loose. He began to open up to both of them. Hostess had always liked him (and every other boy it seemed), so she was also comforting him. He remembered, and this is so embarrassing now, tellin em about how he felt worthless and like a failure after the break up. That is when they start complimenting him. Reminding him he was the best shot in class and that his power and sleek design made him the best in his class for both hunting and sport. They reminded him of the time in Jr. High when he shot a hat off a teacher’s head from the back of the class. LOL those were the days!
His dad had to come to the school to talk with the principal and he’ll never forget how his dad shut the poor bastard down.
“I donate enough money to this school that my boy can shoot whatever he wants. Besides, if your teacher doesn’t want to be shot while teaching then maybe you should tell him to arm himself like any other reasonable American in his situation would. School is a dangerous place and frankly it is a bad example he is setting by not being armed.”
Hahaha man that was funny. It was a great tale to relive. And one that did make him feel better. Momentarily. Then Wal-Mart came up from behind and over heard.
“You’re not THAT good a shot,” he’d said.
“What did you fuckin say?”
“You heard me. Colt is a better shot. Ain’t that right Colt.”
Colt Firearms was a troubled kid who’d been kicked off the football team sophomore year. Before that everyone said it would be a tough competition between him and Remington for starting Quarterback. He was leanin against a wall by the pool house smoking cigarettes and playing rock n roll music with his best friends Marlboro Man and Gibson Guitars.
“Fuck you Wal-Mart,” Colt said.
“What – are you scared?”
All the other kids took the opportunity to jump in and chide Colt. There were all terrified of him, and relished the opportunity to display strength in numbers.
“Fine. Fuck y’all. Let’s do this Remington you overrated hack.”
Add just like that it was on. Remington would have loved to have gotten out the targets and set up proper safety precautions but the truth is, and everyone knows this, sometimes you just don’t have time to set things up perfectly and a true marksman must be ready at any moment. Besides, Sherwin Williams had already started drawing targets on the garage door.
Wal-Mart became the ring leader. It was always stunning to Remington that someone so bland and regional manager looking could be so controlling and basically evil. It occurred to him that was the trick – evil hides behind banality.
“We will go three rounds – marksmanship, speed, and then if necessary a final round of finesse. Gentlemen, let’s get ready” Wal-Mart said.
Remington knew Colt was gonna crush him in the speed round. His game had always been accuracy so he had to win this first round. It was all over in what seemed like an instant. Colt had hit a stunning 9 out of 10 targets, but Remington was perfect.
And so was L’Oreal. She was watching now. She had a strange and distant look on her face. She kinds of always seemed distant – sort of half smiling but half frowning. He could tell she thought this was silly and frankly it hurt him. This was in many ways her fault. He didn’t have anything to prove. He just fuckin hated Wal-Mart so much.
The speed wasn’t even close. Colt crushed him. Colt missed two targets, but was so far ahead it didn’t matter. So it would come down to finesse. The finesse round was basically a competition of showmanship. The rules were less defined and essentially the idea was whoever would do the best trick shot won. Colt went first.
He was impressive. After a long display of nifty hand work, twirling his six shooter around and about his body on one finger, staring at Remington and then at Wal-mart (and at one point winking at L’Oreal whom he’d dated freshman year and Remington then remembered he’d taken her V card) he began firing.
In rapid succession he shot from left to right and back, then behind his head, and then between his own legs. He shot six rounds then spun and caught a second gun no one had seen with his left hand and shot six more. He knocked an entire 12 pack of Anhueser’s beer off a wall. The crowd went nuts.
Remington tensed up. That was pretty fuckin stellar. Even he would have had to admit that Colt looked like a fuckin movie star. He knew what he had to do.
“Blind fold me,” he’d said.
L’Oreal yelled out “This is insanity” and immediately left. Remington wanted nothing more than to chase her but he was in too deep. He couldn’t quit now.
Wal-mart announced that as a neutral judge he would have to be the one to do it. When he got close to Remington he could feel Wal-mart’s breath on his face. Even it smelled boring. Wal-Mart made a big oration to the crowd about fairness and how he would make sure the blindfold was perfectly placed so that Remington couldn’t cheat. He then whispered in his ear
“She sure fucks like she’s ready for Paris” and then spun Remington toward his target.
Remington was drunk by this point and what Wal-mart had said to him was his final straw.
He raised his rifle toward the target and slowly breathed out.
He then spun a 180, gun raised, over the screaming and now ducking crowd to where he knew Wal-Mart was standing. He yelled out “You know why” and puled his trigger.
The Crowd screamed and everyone froze as a shot rang out. Wal-Mart squeezed his stupid fuckin eyes so tight he saw stars and then waited to feel the hole in his head where he had no doubt Remington would put a bullet, blind folded or not. He thought of the gauze he had on sale that week – a family pack for two dollars. He’d need some. But, no blood came.
Remington removed his blindfold and stood there staring at Wal-Mart. Wal-Mart began to laugh as not only was he alive, but Remington had lost.
Then a noise. Wal-mart turned his head behind him to see what the whirring sound was and immediately took a swinging foam target to the face. The force of the block hit him so hard it knocked him into the pool. He was submerged while a stunned crowd was silent and then popped up angry as can be.
“These clothes were made by slaves in third world countries and cost pennies to produce you imbecile!”
Remington’s family had tied target blocks to the awning of the third story terrace so that they could swing them out over the pool for moving target practice. Some of his favorite memories are from when he was just a lil’ pistol shooting out back with his dad. His father would yell “pull” and Remy would dutifully cut the rope so that the giant targets would swing down. His father would light up the careening block while Remington laughed and laughed. Remington had remembered this and perfectly shot blind folded through the crowd narrowly missing Wal-mart and other onlookers and split one of the ropes. The block was released and swooped right into Wal-Mart, knockin him into the pool.
“Fuck you Wal-Mart,” he said.
He walked into the house triumphantly and the crowd began to cheer wildly.
“Haha yeah fuck you Wal-mart,” Colt said. He went back to smoking cigarettes and playing rock n roll music because he’s cool as fuck.
Remington had won, but still felt lost. He had to find L’Oreal. She was sitting on the roof out side his bedroom door, clearly waiting on him.
“Sorry about all that,” he said. “It got a bit out of hand, I guess.”
“You guess? Fuck man. That was terrifying. You ruined your parents garage door.”
“Yeah. You ain’t wrong. I fucked up.”
They sat in silence for a bit.
“Why him? Why Wal-Mart,” he finally managed to ask.
“Honestly,” she began, eyes hanging in shame. “Convenience. I know that is what everyone says, but the truth is he was there and available and I was being kind of lazy.”
“You’re better than him.”
“No one is too good for Wal-Mart,” she said. “We just all want to believe we are, desperately.”
“No! You really are. You’re better than all of us. Seriously. This whole Corporate town is all fucked up. Wal-Mart is awful. But Hostess is bad too, making people fat. Anhueser is fun but you ever notice that when anyone spends a lot of time with him they fuck up their life? And me and Colt are dangerous. I’m tellin you, it’s everyone. The whole place is fucked up. Even that weird kid Google. Always walking around saying ‘Don’t be Evil.’ Who the fuck says that? Huh? Fuckin evil people say shit like that.”
“You think I’m above all that?”
“Of course, Lor. I always have. You make things beautiful.”
“I make things a lie,” she said, and a tear streamed down her face.
“I put a coat of lies on ugliness and hide the truth!” She screamed and cried into his arms. Her make-up ran and stained his camouflage shirt.
I’m leaving next week,” she said after a moment of silence.
They made love on the roof while a chorus of “Chug” chants rang out from the back of the house (Colt and Anhueser were hanging out and it was not gonna end well). She ran her hands over his cold steel body and the most precise design in the game. His trigger was known to be perfectly wound so that it doesn’t go off too soon, if you know what I mean, and it didn’t. They boned for hours.
When they finished L’Oreal left and he knew he’d never see her again. Remington went and did shots with his buddy Jim Beam, who’d just gotten there, and at some point apparently said “fuck it” and punched Wal-mart right in his stupid fat face. He then hooked up with Hostess and passed out.
And so now he was awake, in his house, with a snoring cupcake queen drooling on his arm.
She was right, L’Oreal. She wasn’t any better than any of them, and they were all awful he realized. All of them, all the corporations. They were the worst.
And he realized he didn’t give a fuck. He went on to be very successful and make a lot of money and not give a shit about anything because he, like all of them, does not have a heart.
He heard L’Oreal did phenomenal in the Paris fashion world. Wal-mart went and visited her one week that summer he heard, but got arrested when he tried to date rape her. Wal-Mart always was a date-rapey motherfucker – lulled an entire country to sleep and then fucked em. His parents got him out of it though, no problem.
And life went on for the simple, blood sucking, awful people that corporations are. Someone should have dropped a bomb on that town but no one did.
And they all lived powerfully ever after.
If you wanna know more or like get involved or whatever go here http://www.democracyisforpeople.org
This is Ralph Nader’s group. They are tryin to revere this awful case. He is a great American.
6 thoughts on ““We the p… corporations””
I sure did enjoy that, honey. Except the truthy part. Love you.
At the end is the footnote, “This is Ralph Nader’s group. They are tryin to revere this awful case.”
“Revere”?! Surely, it should be “reverse.” Or is it a Freudian mistake?
Creative, funny, and on point. Really enjoyed it.
So Flippin happy I found this blog. Love it!
What a shitty lawyer. Did malpractice suits drive you out of the profession? CU didn’t even consider corporate personhood. That issue has been determined long before this. Corporate personhood exists so companies can own things and pay you and be sued for not paying you
CU was about whether or not the government could limit spending on direct political endorsements or denunciations on television. Even more specific was the focus on paying. Nader’s group couldn’t pay MSNBC to run an ad that said “vote for Obama”, but MSNBC could have run nothing but “vote for Obama” before the election. Media corporations were exempt because idiots think press is people instead of technology.
IF you want to write an unfunny piece, then do it. Don’t try to justify it with lies about something you know nothing about.