Beautifully Unique Sparkleponies: On Myths, Morons, Free Speech, Football, and Assorted Absurdities - Hardcover

Kluwe, Chris

Hardcover

ISBN 10: 0316236772 ISBN 13: 9780316236775

Publisher: Little, Brown and Company, 2013

Synopsis

Hi. In your hands, right now, you hold the culmination of thousands of years of human intelligence, ingenuity, and brilliance. Now put your goddamn phone down and pay attention to my book.

What is in my book, you ask? (I'm really glad you asked, by the way, because now I get to tell you.)

Time travel. Gay marriage. Sportsballing. Futuristic goggles that DO NOTHING.

Tiny brags from my publisher, stuff like: "This is an uproarious, uncensored take on empathy, personal responsibility, and what it means to be human."

Excessive brags about myself: "An extraordinarily clever, punishingly funny, sharp-tongued blogosphere star, NFL player, husband and father, one-time violin prodigy, voracious lifetime reader, obsessive gamer, and fearless champion of personal freedom."

Oh, and also an essay on the Pope's Twitter account. Honestly, if that doesn't draw you in, there's no hope left for humanity. I also give my own funeral eulogy, in case you were hoping I'd go away and die now!

So please, join me in the glorious art of windmill tilting by reading this "collection of rousing, uncensored personal essays, letters, and stories" (I have no idea why that's in quotes).

Join the herd of Beautifully Unique Sparkleponies.

(You know you want to.)

About this title

About the Author

Chris Kluwe grew up in Southern California among a colony of wild chinchillas and didn't learn how to communicate outside of barking and howling until he was fourteen years old. He has played football in the NFL, once wrestled a bear for a pot of gold, and lies occasionally. He is also the eternal disappointment of his mother, who just can't understand why he hasn't cured cancer yet. Do you know why these bio things are in third person? I have no idea. Please tell me if you figure it out.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

Beautifully Unique Sparkleponies

On Myths, Morons, Free Speech, Football, and Assorted Absurdities

By Chris Kluwe

Little, Brown and Company

Copyright © 2013 Chris Kluwe
All rights reserved.

ISBN: 978-0-316-23677-5

CHAPTER 1

Hello?

I've decided to call my own mind. There's a lot of different characters inthere, and I think we need to talk. Sadly, I have to use my three-year-old phonewith crappy reception because I'm too cheap to upgrade to one that actuallyworks, but I guess that's on me.

First up is Football. As the phone rings, I pace around like a lion onmethadone. I've never been able to sit still while I'm on the phone; it seemslike thinking and listening and talking with someone I can't see causes me tofill in the gaps with movement. Sometimes my wife yells at me because I'mdriving her to distraction. I hope she doesn't Tase me one day.

Football finally picks up. I can hear the yelling of coaches in the background.How's it going? I ask. Oh, just fine, Football responds. It's theusual—sitting around during practice thinking of spaceships, video-gameideas, possible book topics, how many different shades of blue there are beforeyou start entering green—anything at all, really, to keep from goingviolently insane after we finish the forty-five minutes of punting we're herefor.

A dull roar shakes the phone in my ear—it sounds like a plane just landedon Football's head. What was that?

In the middle of a game have to go the snap is coming puntis off gotta coverhere comes he sterohshitohshitoh—click. The phone goes dead, thecall cut off. I shrug and dial the number for Reading.

Reading doesn't pick up, usually never does. Spends all its time among stacks ofbooks, science fiction and fantasy mainly, tuning everything out inside thehushed cathedral silence of a library. I'm never quite sure where I'm going togo with Reading, but it's always a great trip. I swear, though, if Reading evergets an e-reader, I'm going to lobotomize myself. You can't beat the feel ofpaper on fingertips.

Next on the list is abstract. I dial the number, and my phone swallows me up andspits me out inside a psychedelic landscape of non-Euclidean geometry andfireworks. The colors taste like triangles. All of a sudden, a herd of bowling-ballllamas run past me whispering scenes from Hamlet while a thunderous basstrack shimmers the air into crystal sculptures. At one point, I'm pretty surethey all look like Jessica Rabbit. Commence the sweet-tea tango.

Time to leave, before abstract takes me on another tangent. It's a fun place tovisit, interesting scenery, but I don't think I'd want to live there.

At this point I realize I'm talking to Reason. Reason's always sitting aboveeverything else, custodiet the custodians and all that, and usuallykeeps abstract on a pretty tight leash. There's a couple long-chain molecularcompounds that can distract Reason for a while, but they also generally make thenext morning slightly unpleasant, so they get in only occasionally. The funnything, though, is that Reason is the only one that will let them in in the firstplace. Unless Reason's satisfied that it's okay to take a break, all guards stayon high alert.

Reason assures me that it's still very much in control at the moment, so I hangup and go looking for the last portion of my mind I'd like to speak with. Itcrafts me a wonderful conversation and then brings this snapshot to a close.

Enjoy the ride.

Welcome to the Circus

I never intended to write a book. All of this started when I wrote a letter.

A lot of people seemed to enjoy reading this letter, and one of the reasons theyenjoyed reading it was that it had a bunch of naughty words in it. Words likelustful cockmonster and narcissistic fromunda stain and holyfucking shitballs.

Some other people didn't like the language, and I imagine they went intoapoplectic fits when they finally reached the very last word I wrote down, whichI've taken the delight of reprinting here:

Asshole.

Coincidentally, Kurt Vonnegut always included a stylized picture of an assholenext to his signature (one of the many delightful hand-drawn illustrations heliked to include in his stories). There's a big asterisk middle fingeremblazoned on the spine of each book (at least on the ones I own, anyway),telling the world that this was his voice and you could take it or leave it.

I like Kurt's voice, how he was able to highlight the absurdities and awfulnessof the human race, hope and depression all twisted together into one complexknot (just like people!). I'm not Kurt, though. I have to use my ownvoice—colorful language, obscure tangents, mixed metaphors, and all.

As the great poet Marshall Mathers put it,

Sorry, Mama, I'm grown, I must travel aloneAin't following no footsteps, I'm making my own.

Ladies and gentlemen, start your engines.

So now that I'm writing a book, people have suggested topics for me to consider.Some of them I like, some of them I'll ignore (I'm the one writing; I get tomake the rules), but one in particular I find absolutely fascinating. The topicis "How the truth will always help you win."

Sorry, but that's not true. The truth will help you win only if people arewilling to educate themselves as to why truth is important, and, make nomistake, truth is very important.

But what is truth?

To me, truth boils down to two things: a willingness to see the world as itreally is, and the desire to change your beliefs when they conflict with yourvision.

First off, to see the world as it really is. The world, one that we've made forourselves, is absolutely fucked. We drop bombs on each other, kill children inthe name of religion, discriminate against the poor and minorities becausethey're "different," pollute and destroy and despoil to satisfy our own selfishneeds; in short, human beings are assholes.

The world is also full of joy and wonder: a fireman running into a burningbuilding to save a complete stranger; a church offering food and shelter to thehomeless; a child given encouragement and love from those around her. Humanbeings are assholes, but they're also self-sacrificing, noble, and filled withboundless love.

The world is full of complexity. This is the truth, and it's a hard one tolearn. People can't be defined by labels or categories; one man's hero isanother man's villain. We cannot judge people by their own claims, which theyshape as they see fit, or their thoughts, which we cannot see; we can judgepeople only by their actions and by how those actions affect others around them.

The truth is that the world is what we make it. What consequences our actionsbring—that is truth. What our society values, not in word or phrase but inlaw and policy—that is truth. What people are willing to fight for, workfor, die for—that is truth. The only truth that is self-evident is that wedetermine how truthful we want to be with each other.

Right now, the truth is that we value the shallow, the immaterial, theworthless, and the inane. Huge department stores and horse-meat hamburger chainsare built on shoveling as much cheap, easily replaceable trash on people as theycan, no matter the consequences. (Have another Double McLard Burger to go withyour lead-infused milk!) Reality TV, daytime talk shows—they're mindlesspap to distract us from actual issues. (But, boy, I'm sure glad Maury found outthe fifth man tested was the child's father!) Political races are closer togladiatorial spectacles than rational discussions of important matters (whythink when we can be entertained!).

The truth will always help you win? Hardly likely. No one is interested in thetruth anymore, because the truth is harsh, unpalatable, bitter to the tongue andthe mind. Give us our soma, our video walls, our bread and circuses to numb thedull ache of ignorance until we don't even realize what it is we've lost. Giveus a truth, but not the truth, because to change our beliefs andconfront that truth is to admit that we've failed as a country and as a people,grown fat and indolent on the spoils of empire, that we're content to fiddle asit all slowly burns around us, unwilling and unable to recognize that this pathhas been well trod throughout the course of history. For the truth to win, youhave to want to know the truth, and not many people have the appetite.

Perhaps enough people will one day realize the truth—that we have onlyeach other on this planet, that how we treat one another is the only legacy weleave for our children—and will act accordingly. Perhaps one day peoplewill realize that we are a species composed of complex and unique individuals,that our differences don't divide us but instead highlight our wondrousdiversity. Perhaps one day people will treat each other the way they want to betreated: with respect, with dignity, with tolerance and compassion. That's theday the truth will win.

Until that day, ask me no questions, and I'll tell you no lies.

Some People Don't Understand Logic

Emmett C. Burns is a Maryland state delegate who, in August 2012, wrote aletter to the owner of the Baltimore Ravens concerning statements made by Ravenslinebacker Brendon Ayanbadejo in favor of same-sex marriage. The letter from Mr.Burns (n'excellent) to the Ravens demanded the organization inhibitBrendon's right to free speech, which I had a bit of a problem with. Inresponse, I wrote this letter, which originally appeared on Deadspin, becausethey'll print just about anything (love you guys).

Dear Emmett C. Burns Jr.,

I find it inconceivable that you are an elected official of Maryland's stategovernment. Your vitriolic hatred and bigotry make me ashamed and disgusted tothink that you are in any way responsible for shaping policy at any level. Theviews you espouse neglect to consider several fundamental key points, which Iwill outline in great detail (you may want to hire an intern to help you withthe longer words):

1. As I suspect you have not read the Constitution, I would like to remind youthat the very first, the VERY FIRST, amendment in this founding document dealswith the freedom of speech, particularly the abridgment of said freedom. Byusing your position as an elected official (when referring to your constituentsso as to implicitly threaten the Ravens organization) to state that the Ravensshould "inhibit such expressions from your employees," more specifically BrendonAyanbadejo, not only are you clearly violating the First Amendment, you alsocome across as a narcissistic fromunda stain. What on earth would possess you tobe so mind-bogglingly stupid? It baffles me that a man such as yourself, a manwho relies on that same First Amendment to pursue your own religious studieswithout fear of persecution from the state, could somehow justify stiflinganother person's right to speech. To call that hypocritical would be to do adisservice to the word. Mindfucking obscenely hypocritical starts to approach ita little bit.

2. "Many of your fans are opposed to such a view and feel it has no place in asport that is strictly for pride, entertainment, and excitement." Holy fuckingshitballs. Did you seriously just say that, as someone who's "deeply involved ingovernment task forces on the legacy of slavery in Maryland"? Have you not heardof Kenny Washington? Jackie Robinson? As recently as 1962 the NFL still hadsegregation, which was only done away with by brave athletes and coaches daringto speak their mind and do the right thing, and you're going to say thatpolitical views have "no place in a sport"? I can't even begin to fathom thecognitive dissonance that must be coursing through your rapidly addled mindright now; the mental gymnastics your brain has to tortuously contort itselfthrough to make such a preposterous statement are surely worthy of an Olympicgold medal (the Russian judge gives you a 10 for "beautiful oppressionism").

3. This is more a personal quibble of mine, but why do you hate freedom? Why doyou hate the fact that other people want a chance to live their lives and behappy, even though they may believe in something different than you, or actdifferent than you? How does gay marriage, in any way, shape, or form, affectyour life? If gay marriage becomes legal, are you worried that all of a suddenyou'll start thinking about penis? "Oh shit. Gay marriage just passed. Gotta getme some of that hot dong action!" Will all of your friends suddenly turn gay andrefuse to come to your Sunday Ticket grill-outs? (Unlikely, since gay peopleenjoy watching football too.)

I can assure you that gay people getting married will have zero effect on yourlife. They won't come into your house and steal your children. They won'tmagically turn you into a lustful cockmonster. They won't even overthrow thegovernment in an orgy of hedonistic debauchery because all of a sudden they havethe same legal rights as the other 90 percent of our population—rightslike Social Security benefits, child-care tax credits, Family and Medical Leaveto take care of loved ones, and COBRA health care for spouses and children. Youknow what having these rights will make gays? Full-fledged American citizensjust like everyone else, with the freedom to pursue happiness and all thatentails. Do the civil-rights struggles of the past two hundred years meanabsolutely nothing to you?

In closing, I would like to say that I hope this letter, in some small way,causes you to reflect upon the magnitude of the colossal foot-in-mouthclusterfuck you so brazenly unleashed on a man whose only crime was speaking outfor something he believed in. Best of luck in the next election; I'm fairlycertain you might need it.

Sincerely,Chris Kluwe

PS: I've also been vocal as hell about the issue of gay marriage so you can takeyour "I know of no other NFL player who has done what Mr. Ayanbadejo is doing"and shove it in your close-minded, totally-lacking-in-empathy piehole and chokeon it. Asshole.

Bowdlerizations

First off, let me say thank you to all the people who commented on my letter toEmmett C. Burns Jr.

You all give me great hope for the human race—hope that one day we canrise up past the petty differences that divide us and realize we're all in thistogether. Perhaps our children won't look back on our stewardship with regret.

Second, I heard from quite a few sources (including my dad) that the letterwould have been more powerful and would have delivered the message betterwithout the swearing, and that those who would refute the point could seize uponmy colorful insults to dismiss the main thrust as little more than childishantics and egotistical displays of temper.

Bollocks.

The swearing is there for a reason. What Emmett C. Burns Jr. wrote, what Iresponded to, was far more disgusting and foul-minded than any simplescatological reference or genital mash-up. His words degrade the very essence ofthe English language with their barely hidden venom and intolerant hate; drag itscreaming into the muck of iniquity by wrapping a mantle of seemingreasonableness around corruption and control; masquerade as discourse whilescreaming their very lies to any heaven you care to name—I could go on.

My words? My words are a litmus test for those who would see the truth of amessage rather than the package it's delivered in. I won't lie; I use thosewords also because I personally find them entertaining to write and read (as doa large number of other people), but those who argue that my message meansnothing simply because I'm referencing a portion of the male anatomy would neverhave accepted the message anyway. They would have used other excuses to refuteit, like "Oh, he's just a punter," or "What do you know? You just playfootball," or "No one cares what you think, you fag."

No, my words are meant for those who might be on the fence, those who areinitially drawn in due to shock, or laughter, or outrage but then look at whatlies beneath, at the truth of the matter. Those people I might reach, might givea quick lightbulb flicker of "Ohhh, so that's what's wrong with that argument."But those who don't look, who don't question, who happily treat the symptoms andnot the disease—isn't that the very problem with our politics today? Noone is interested in what lies hidden in plain sight beneath what's said, theglossy dung ball of intolerance and hate buffed to a lustrous gleam by rhetoricand catchphrases.

So here is my gift to you. The exact same letter, but without the oh-so-naughtywords, which only mean what we allow them to mean. What will your excuse be thistime?

(Continues...)

Excerpted from Beautifully Unique Sparkleponies by Chris Kluwe. Copyright © 2013 Chris Kluwe. Excerpted by permission of Little, Brown and Company.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

Edition details

• Publisher: Little, Brown and Company
• Publication date: 2013
• Language: English
• ISBN 10: 0316236772
• ISBN 13: 9780316236775
• Binding: Hardcover
• Edition number: 1
• Number of pages: 272