by Kevin Allman
We are indeed tired of all of it. But Grandmaster Wang at the blog MooseDenied didn't just get tired of it. He did something about it.
He wrote an essay. And it's long, and a lot of it is pretty NSFW-ish (unless you work in a Quentin Tarantino movie) but I can still see it being printed in its entirety on Fleurty Girl and Dirty Coast shirts. Held up on signs during playoff games. Crocheted into samplers by sweet 7th Ward grandmas.
"We Make the Rules, Pal" is, perhaps, the greatest New Orleans non-apologia since three months after Hurricane Katrina and the federal floods, when the late Ashley Morris so eloquently told the world: FYYFF.
But enough of this palaver. Let us savor the sweet, sweet words of Grandmaster Wang (well, at least as much as we can print here) ...
Memo to #RodneyWhite, #BrettGrimes, Jason Cole and Pete Prisco: We're not sorry. Got a problem with that? Go ...
Let me lay it out for you so that you can understand. This just in: Our goals trump your feelings. Every time.
We're in this thing for us. Nobody else. Definitely not you. And if achieving those goals leaves you humiliated and outraged, that's your problem. Deal with it. Clutch your pearls if you must, but you'd be better served to grow a pair instead.
Oh sure, they pretended to love us for about 15 minutes in February 2010. They capitalized on the chumps-to-champs angle. They emoted as publicly as possible and tugged on as many heartstrings as they could over the Federal Flood. They said "Nawlins" over and over and over. Gumbo this and Mardi Gras that. They exploited the shit out of us and milked it for all 'Murika considered it worth.
It was all so cute and quirky and hip. A little "edgy" yet wholesome as milk. Real funky but not threatening. Made for great media. A tightly-scripted little melodrama that if you didn't know any better you might have mistaken for an HBO Original Series.
And the critics raved for some reason.
But it wasn't supposed to get renewed.