ZILDJIAN = JIHAD. 5.10.06
Shame on me.
I can never seem to remember to avoid wearing this shirt when I'm strolling around in Pennsylvania. Sure, it seems like a harmless little t-shirt, advertising the cymbal manufacturer Zildjian... but to many toothless hicks in PA (who are often cursed with the tragic combination of paranoid prejudice and a 3rd grade education), this shirt says, "I have a bomb strapped to my chest, and I'm going to walk into your local Arby's and send everyone to Allah."
How do I know? Well, it's not that they stare or exhibit strange body language; it's more that they throw bottles of Mountain Dew at me and yell, "git outta our country sand nigger!" That's usually how I can tell. This might come as a shock to anyone here with even a lick of culture, but I kid you not, I (a white male) have had plastic bottles thrown at my back and racial epithets spewed in my face on several occasions, all of them while wearing this Zildjian shirt. Perhaps what is even more atrocious is the fact that I'm obviously not walking around some one-horse town in PA... I'm in a college town, where people are supposed to be more open-minded, more diverse, more cultured. Nope, all we got here is tobacco-chewin' caucasians who are just itching to kick someone in the groin.
Let's take look at the Zildjian shirt again here. Now, I'll let slide the notion that Zildjian might be an unfamiliar company to the majority of the public... but one would think that Metallica-worshipping rednecks would know that brand when they see it. Nevertheless, there are other aspects of this shirt that make it clear to everyone (well, anyone who can read) that this is no al-Qaeda warmup jersey. The phrase "turkish cymbals" doesn't exactly conjure up memories of 9/11 if you ask me. Oh, and then of course there's the "Made in USA" line... I guess that one is a bit too complex for people from central Pennsylvania to stomach.
Perhaps what is even more comical is the congregation of socially retarded intellectuals who have actually told me on several occasions that I was "brave for wearing a shirt like that" and "standing up for my culture". It's not a statement, it's a damn cymbal company; maybe if you spent more time outside of your stale dorm room- which surely reeks of used textbooks and Thai food- you'd have known that.
Each group is as just as uncultured and uneducated as the other... it's just a matter of whether you prefer the stewing hatred of the drunks at the frat party, or the naive sentiment of the folks at the hookah lounge. What I can enjoy about the former is the fact that they know they're simple folk. They don't want to understand the shirt, or any shirt for that matter that doesn't read "Bettis" on the back of it. They know the consequence of their idiocy is a life of working at the local hardware store, making it all the way up to Assistant Manager after thirty years of dedicated service. You can't help but admire their dedication to the socio-economic rut they were born into.
The intellectuals, however, are just plain misguided and misinformed. They're big fish in little ponds, and in the rare instance that they move on to bigger ponds, they don't know what to do with themselves and their shattered visions of multiculturalism. They look less to me like open-minded sages, and more like the characters of Plato's Cave. I'll take the toothless rednecks, and the beatings that might come with them. At least they drink good beer.