“This is the best cocaine ever, I am a fucking BEAST!”
~Spicer Breeden
America has a complex relationship with tragedy. Everyone likes The Shawshank Redemption, but on it’s opening weekend more people went to see The Little Rascals and The Mask. We know Shakespeare’s greatest plays were tragedies, but we don’t give a shit because, come on, plays? We laugh when we see a full grown man get smashed in the groin with a baseball bat, but get pissed off when our lame friend gets all worried and asks, “Is he gonna be able to have kids again?” Tragedy makes us uncomfortable, especially in instances where we see two American flames flicker and extinguish. We love to highlight all that is American, but we prefer to shield ourselves from the tragedy of Americans.
That is, unless a mountain of cocaine is involved, and then we’re all about that shit.
Fair warning, this article will be like 80% cocaine jokes and 20% glossing over the tragedy of a hit and run death