Missourians
Overwhelmingly Reject State Marriage Amendment
In a move that surprised nobody and proved pundits correct,
the people of
Voters from all corners of the state echoed the same
reaction. Sitting with her friend over a bowl of sun-bathed prunes, Opal
Johnson from
“These aren’t esoteric concepts,” echoed Ms. Johnson’s bridge partner, Mildred Buchanan. “And honey,” cackled Opal as she picked up a puzzle piece, “What’s next—a constitutional codification of Kant’s view of epistemic truth? Mildred, it’s a barn!” she exclaimed as she put in the last piece to the puzzle.
Since the late 1800s,
Caught at a pump behind his shack in the southern Missouri Ozarks, Skeeter O’Donnell took a moment to wipe his forehead, pick a piece of pork chop from his incisors, and share his thoughts on the defeated amendment. “I remember Ma used to say, with us all sitting by the fire at night, that our state was, and always should be, the defender of minimalist, classical liberal government philosophy. Church is church, she’d say, and state is state.” Skeeter chuckled as he gazed upward. “That was Ma: if it wasn’t socio-political economic theory, it was a drunken stupor with angry ramblings on Somali-Yemeni maritime disputes.” Skeeter slapped his knee and laughed, “She could churn out some cryptic hypothesis as well as she could churn out gas after a helping of Granny’s chili!”
To be sure, Skeeter represents the complex, contradictory personality of the average Missourian. Caught between a down-to-earth, pantheistic philosophy of nature and the Gateway Arch-high intellectual tower of abstract reasoning, the average Missourian is often a conundrum to his less sophisticated American countrymen.
When asked about the multifaceted Missourian mind, Harvard
political scientist J.M. Applebaum minced no words: “
Indeed, to celebrate
Other trend-setting, culturally advanced states are
following
Indeed, the governor of Mississippi planning perhaps the
most extravagant celebration: a public reading session of aphorisms from
Frederick Nietzsche’s “Human, All Too Human," proceeded by the public
marrying of two girls, both age fifteen, the legal age to marry in Mississippi.
In a press statement, the governor commented: "by extending the right of
life-altering, far-reaching commitments to fifteen year-old children,
Other states planned equally motivating activities. Flanked
by a portrait of civil segregation-rights activist George Wallace, Governor Bob
Riley will stand at the door of the
posted by Ben at 7.6.04