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Column: Death by Penknife
By Molly Rideout '10
Seek satanic, cheese-heavy fun to the north
Wisconsin kicks ass! As a Wisconsinite, someone might claim that I'm biased in this opinion, but I personally find my views to be fully justified.
For example, this whole "Real cheese comes from happy cows. Happy cows come from California" ad campaign is just an attempt to steer consumers away from what they already know is the best. But who really thinks that California is better than Wisconsin?
I mean, yes, we're a state with just about as much farming as Iowa. Yes, we wear big slabs of cheese on our heads and watch football half-naked in below-zero weather.
And yes, we have pretty hard-core margarine laws, but when you're looking for that extra thrill in your life, that little extra je ne sais fran¨ais (only Germans and Irish here), when you're looking to dabble in some carnal fun (complete with whips and handcuffs), Wisconsin should be your one and only destination.
As the other Midwest states are going to church and helping old ladies and puppies cross the road, Wisconsin's listening to satanic music and sleeping with all the drunk girls on the UW campus. Trust me; there are a lot of them. A feat like that takes endurance.
Yet very few people seem aware of Wisconsin's superior stamina and skills (we have a lot of spare time during those eightmonth-long winters and we have to get a little creative), which is why I am doing my best to raise awareness of our state's greatness.
Proof One: Dogma.
"Were they sent to Hell?"
"Worse. Wisconsin."
Yeah, that's us: putting the sin back in Wisconsin. We have no petty moral code hanging about our necks. There aren't any albatrosses on the Great Lakes for us to worry about, though I'm sure if there were we'd have a hunting season for them.
But let us continue with the movie evidence, because if Hollywood alludes to it, then it must be true. I know for a fact that I'm never going to fly from Hawaii to L.A. with Samuel L. Jackson because of their timely warnings.
In Love Actually, where does the sad, pathetic Colin go to pick up American chicks? Wisconsin. And yes, let's forget for a minute that those chicks have southern accents and never once say, "eh?" because the director, Richard Curtis, is British and can't be expected to know the intricacies of the great Midwest. Plus, he directed Mr. Bean and Blackadder and is therefore automatically raised to the elevation of geek-god.
And if movies tell the truth, and we know they do, we can garner one thing from Colin's story: Wisconsin girls are hot and easy and very open to orgies.
Now for a bit of history. Iowa may have had the Villisca axe murders, but we've had Ed Gein, who made lamp shades and couch upholstery out of human skin, and Jeffery Dahmer, who kept bodies in vats of acid and ate some of his victims. Just last year, we had a man sentenced for hiding his mom's body in the freezer so that he could keep collecting her social security.
Wisconsin knows how to have fun, in the greatest possible Psycho meets Texas Chainsaw Massacre type of way.
Which brings me to the joys of politics. Wisconsin was where the Republican Party originated, as well as that wonderfully liberal senator Joseph McCarthy.
So +2 on the satanic scale for Wisconsin.
But even bad boys have some happy, froofy, Care Bear skeletons in their closets that they're ashamed of (Oh, wait. That's just what mom was wearing when I hacked her up with my penknife), and Wisconsin is no exception.
Polka is our state dance.
Yes, I know. We hang our heads in shame and stuff our faces with brats and beer to try to block the accordion music that permeates our minds. Most people think it's just a joke that Wisconsin is into such a dismal dance, but even I have a polka dress in my closet! And you wonder why we go crazy and stick our moms in freezers.
But the polka, if anything, gives our characters more depth. It gives us a cause to rebel against, which puts us one up from James Dean on the sexual allure scale.
There really is no way around it: Wisconsinites just have more fun. Where else would you put the UW, the number one party school in the U.S.? Why work hard and play hard when you can just play hard?
Real cheese comes from happy cows. Happy cows are happy because they're gettin' action in Wisconsin.
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