The night after we watched Coyote Ugly and then every other Jerry Bruckheimer movie except for Flashdance and Days of Thunder, we went to a tiny club to see Rudy Ray Moore. The place used to be the Croatian hall back when the area was mostly filled with Croats, but now there's not much left to tie the neighborhood to Croatia, except that it looks like someone's just recently fought a war there.

We almost didn't go because of Erik. "Colling-fucking-wood?" he said, "Are you in-fucking-sane? That neighborhood's totally Croatian. Those lunatics'd just as soon watch South American Croatian super-fucking-star Gabriela Spanic as spoon out your eye-fucking-balls - which, in case you idi-fucking-ots didn't know, are the windows to your soul - just to get a clear rocket shot at your soul. And they hate white people. Ohhh, they're gonna love your handsome, porcelain ass Sean. Ooooohhhhhhhh, let me in-fucking-form you of this fact, they're fan-fuc-"

Above: Croat star Gabriela Spanic and nearby handsome man. Please note that Croatia's hot-girl technology is much more advanced than their still-primitive handsome man technology, so most handsome man positions are still filled by Frankenstein.

"First of all," Chet interrupted, "stop smooshing 'fucking' into the middle of words. I don't know who told you that was something cool to do. I mean, sometimes it's cool. Like if you do it in the middle of another swear word. Say... 'bull-fucking-shit', for example. But you've been doing it nonstop for three days straight. If you're trying to impress Sean, fine. Mission accomplished. He knows you can swear." Erik hung his head as Chet added, "And second of all, all the Croats moved out of Collingwood. It's 100% poor blacks now."

"Sweet," Erik said, "Let's go!"

When we got there, we learned a life lesson that should have been obvious already. Like when, in movies, Brendan Fraser wears a funny windbreaker and he's an unpopular dork and the whole time you're thinking "oh shit, he's never gonna get any chicks" but then later, after some heart-tugging, heart-stealing heartbreak, a wacky gay friend says "Girl, let's see what we can do here" and he takes off the windbreaker and, depending on how realistic the movie is, maybe a pair of glasses, and Brendan Fraser is foxy Brendan Fraser again, and in the next scene he's fucking a model and you're like "I guess I should have seen that coming". Like that, we thought Rudy Ray Moore would be playing the hundred thousand seat Convention Center, and we'd still have to get Sean to fuck some hot ticket lady to get tickets.

What we should have already known is that people with the most disposable income have a hard time telling when something's good. How can Dolemite be playing some tiny club in a nightmare neighborhood in Cleveland, and still not sell it out, when just a few countries away, David Hasselhoff is filling stadiums? And not filling them with people watching him rescue and resuscitate girls in bikinis, but people listening to him sing. For less money than it takes to buy David Hasselhoff the Ancient Chinese face cream he demands before he'll come out on stage, Rudy Ray Moore could make you nineteen kung fu movies about karate hookers laying siege to a disco. Rudy should run this country. Rudy should have the money to get David Hasselhoff himself melted down and made into a cream and the power to get away with it. What kind of fucked up Bizarro world do we live in when Steven Seagal is the one who's Above the Law, and Rudy Ray Moore is the one sitting on a folding chair and pretending to be nice to Erik just so he'll buy a fifteen dollar t-shirt? What kind of God would allow it? Checkmate, Pope.

For a sample of Dolemite, here's one of the jokes he told during the show (below, pink bowtie):

And there wasn't a single person in the club who wasn't laughing. Hard. That's how charming Rudy Ray Moore is. He can tell a joke where the setup is him raping a deaf and dumb girl, and the punchline is him mutilating her, and it's funny. If anyone else tried that, it'd be a disaster. Let's say Bob Barker, who is undeniably charming, tried to transition one of his pet-neutering speeches into a monologue about him sexually assaulting a handicapped girl. He'd be replaced by a Technical Difficulties screen before he could even get to the part where he starts chopping her fingers off.

So what is holding Dolemite back from world domination? I suppose some people will tell you that Rudy Ray Moore's chance for mainstream popularity is undermined by how offensive he is. But that's bullshit. There are maybe four people in the world who aren't offended by mutilating handicapped people after attacking them with your penis, and those four people are hopefully getting beaten by the guards of a government institution far away from where children could find them and put them in their mouth.

Maybe you've seen Erik and my sites. We're not going to win the Nobel Love Prize*. In fact, we're almost professional dickheads. I say the word "retard" more than "thank you," and you already read about how for two years Erik was writing and drawing stories about superheroes punching pregnant women in the stomach. But let me tell you something -- we are adamantly against sexually assaulting handicapped people**. And I'm sure everyone else at Dolemite's show was too. That's how funny he was. We all put aside our petty dislike of horrific crime to have a good laugh.

*Seanbaby once actually won a Nobel Love Prize, but they spelled "Nobel" like "Cake" and "Love Prize" like "Walk."

**Just to make the point even clearer, Erik says that even if he was in favor of sexually assaulting anyone - which he's not, unless it's in self defense - handicapped people would be near the bottom of his list. "Because, let's be honest for once in our lives, the term 'handi-capable' doesn't apply to being attractive. And I'm not talking about their human spirit, here, because obviously they've got breathtakingly beautiful human spirits. For instance, Stephen Hawking's indomitable human spirit is like the Olsen twins when their management team dresses them up like whores, then forces them to make out with each other."

Above: Nude Dolemite as seen in Erik's dreams.

Inset: Fat Albert.

"But unless scientists figure out a way for me to screw somebody's hot-ass human spirit, I can't even begin to imagine the line of rape-reasoning whose endpoint is me humping Stephen Hawking. Unless he attacked me first. Even then though, I'd probably just walk behind his wheelchair and wail on the back of his head with my fists. 'Here's a science lesson for ya,' I'd say, 'Just because you sound like a robot, that doesn't mean you're an indestructible metal monster. You're lucky none of your colleagues has invented a way for me to fuck the inviolable human spirit, because you got a real pretty one.' Then I'd give him one of my special wind-up punches to his neck. Later, someone would say 'where's Dr. Hawking?' and I'd be all tired and grimy from the fight and I'd hiss 'He's working on a new math problem..." Then I'd kind of squint and take a long drag off my cigarette. 'Every time he tries to add his fucking bullshit, he has to subtract my foot from his ass!' Then I'd run."

So do Dolemite's fans accomodate his offensiveness just because haven't quite decided on the insane-assault/not insane-assault issue? No. It's not like we're only partially against rape. Greeting card manufacturers and children mascots in giant racoon costumes are no more against raping deaf girls than we are. Like I said, I know I can be an asshole, and I fully understand how insane and hypocritical I can sound when I give moral advice. I don't have the luxury of self delusional sainthood; I'm just barely smart enough to know I'm an idiot and just barely too lazy to care. And if you take those two things, then added two other things that mix together to make explosives like Erik and a bomb, you have a deadly combination. And that makes us dangerous.

Let me explain how all this applies to you: see, I might tell you to not sue people for something stupid you did, but you can answer back, "Fuck you, Sean! Having sixty million dollars is a lot more important to me than you respecting me." I can accept that, you scumbag. But when I tell you not to cut parts off of handicapped people, I'm not going to let it go when you scream back at me, "Fuck you, Sean! I really really need these deaf girl fingers!"

Next... More Dolemite, MOTHERFUCKER!

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