America Gives A Sheet or: A Plea For Tiny Crackpots

In these days when celebrity right-wing crackpots seem to be getting all the publicity by revealing their drug addictions, complaining about their TIME magazine covers, talking up the merits of “Intelligent Design,” or calling publicly for political assassinations, it seems unfair to me that the screwballs of the nation’s modest heartland aren’t given similar attention. After all, to hear Mr. Bush tell it, they’re the real backbone (or boneheads) of this country.

That’s right. I'm not talking about the usual crew, the Limbaughs, the Coulters, the Robertsons, et al. I'm talking about those folks in the heartland, the ones who didn't want to offer therapy to Osama Bin Laden after 9/11. The simple folk, the ones you'd want to have a beer with, like Mr. Bush. The bedrock of this great nation, the ones whose colors don't run, the ones that wouldn't let Michael Dukakis take their god-given guns away.

You know the type. You pass them every day. Their stories aren't front-page news. They make no great claims for themselves but prefer to move through this life with humility, paying their own way and worshipping in their own fashion.

No, you won't see them on the talk shows plugging their latest feature film, or see their mug shots the way you see those of so many of Hollywood's so-called "stars." And yet, their story is a larger one. They are the fabric of the tapestry of the cloth of the knitted sweater that is the United States of America and they don't ask for any phony recognition for doing what they believe is right.

Well, just to take an example:

No doubt you've been reading about the peace camp in Crawford, Texas near the Bush ranch, where Cindy Sheehan and her supporters wait for Mr. Bush to invite Cindy in to discuss her reservations about the war that killed her son.

No real American is going to take those kind of shenanigans for long.

Already, one neighbor shot off his gun in hopes of scaring the varmints off. There's no better demonstration of why Americans treasure their right to bear arms than that.

Then there was the other fellow who respected the memories of the war dead so much, he was moved to drive his pickup truck over 500 makeshift crosses commemorating them while dragging a length of pipe behind him. You tell 'em, sir! These pickups don't run!

But that's not my favorite story of America's Heartland coming together to support Commander KooKoo Bananas (as Homer Simpson referred to him this year) against the threat of Cindy Sheehan.

No, that honor belongs to the "I Give a Sheet Vigil and Prayer Rally."

No, really.

Let one organizer, Eve Tidwell of Georgia, explain the motivation: "People who are for things don't usually go out and say something, it's usually people that are against something that does." Right enough, Ms. Tidwell. Unless, of course, you're "against" whatever it is the other side is "for," I suppose, in which case the waters are needlessly muddied. Let's stick with your simple, but potent, reasoning for now.

According to the Washington Post, "about 80 Bush supporters, including a group that chartered a plane from Georgia, held a rally…at the nearby Crawford Community Center. They hung up white sheets filled with written messages like 'Mr. Bush, you are doing a great job, thank you for all your hard work! God Bless America!'…The messages were written with washable markers so the sheets can be washed and donated to homeless shelters, organizers said."

What fascinates me about this is that sitting right in the middle of the name of this event (which is, I remind you, a vigil and prayer rally) is a pun on a popular anglo-saxonism for excrement.

Will we now see bumper stickers asking if Jesus would give a sheet?

Better yet, this opens the door for all manner of quasi-religious events supporting the war. How about the "I Give A Flying Duck Vigil and Pancake Breakfast" wherein the devout each takes a rubber duck and writes a gung-ho message to Bush on it like "Osama can go 'duck' himself!" Then they all toss them into the air over the fence of the Bush Ranch.

Or the "I Give A Rat's Ash Vigil and Prayer Retreat" during which the ashes of cremated rats would be dumped on the ranch by plane.

Or the "I Believe In Bush's Whore Sheet Vigil and Witch Burning" in which the bedlinens from whorehouses would have the arguments for Intelligent Design printed on them and hung up in science classrooms.

Or they could just use some bedclothes from the White House. Same thing.