AmeriKorner, or, How to Rant Jingo-Wise

Snappy Tom here. I know what yer thinkin, my it's been a while since we heard from that old coot, and ain't he dead yet? Well no I ain't. And in the interim since my last post, I ascertained many learnings. Like, what is a blog, and, how to use a computer, and what does "ascertain" mean. So it's my turn to talk. All this book-smart jaw-flappin' about the so-called history of kreationism is making me sick. Just as man didn't come from a monkey, neither did our beautiful tradition come from the minds of some mutter-hinterland ninnies. Now maybe my mind's fucked up from "too much whiskey," as the doctor says, but I have consulted my family kreation-trees dating back to the 1860s, and hate to spoil your party there Gabe, but this thing been around longer than you think. And it comes straight from the US of A. Where else could it begin? Some of our greatest Kreationists were in fact the westward-bound freaks of the 19th century, that soul-sickness of America coursin' their veins and driving them toward waters no one in respectable society cared to see. So don't go jabberin' to me about no sorry-ass German poets -- this here kreation thing, it's as American as Twinkies. I'm out.