Team Murder No Brain No Headache.


The Answer Is Always Wrong

We just returned from a trip to the mountains to take part in a wedding. Everything was great: the ceremony was both funny and touching, we had a wonderful place to stay, and got to spend some time with friends that we rarely see. The burn of the whole thing was coming to the realization that I really hate the mountains. Yeah, I know, I'm a total dick and all of that but I had a semi-stupid epiphany while we were killing a couple hours between ceremony and reception in one of those dinky strip-mall-as-a-town places. I was thinking that the elaborate staging of faux-thentic mountain crap is the attraction for many people or at least what gets them to pull off the highway and buy some garbage. It makes my flesh crawl and I miss all of the bullshit and filth of the city when confronted by mountain Disneyland. I can see the mountains from here and I think they look a lot more interesting from far off as opposed to up close where they cannot awe or inspire but are instead pimped out to sell me coffee tables made out of tree stumps or ice cream.

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  1. I would argue that you don’t hate the mountains, you hate the towns in the mountains.

    Tennessee has some of the most beautiful mountains in the world (I often have a wonderful view of them from my deck), but to get to them you have to drive through two of the shittiest tourist traps ever conceived by the minds of evil men. If there is a god, Pigeon Forge and Gatlinburg would’ve been wiped out by a natural disaster by now.

    Just checked, they’re still there and thriving, thus proving there is no god.

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