Yes, I hate rednecks. Yes, I hate NASCAR. No, driving around in circles all day is NOT a sport. But that’s not the reason for my opinion. There are people who don’t like things that I like, and this is the USA, where we talk about “freedom”. I’m all for freedom, so I’ve always gone about my merry way and exercised my freedom to bitch about Nascar knowing it will never make a difference.

But more and more, I can’t help thinking that this organization is the epitome of the corpulent excess that will be the undoing of our country. If the Colosseum symbolized the height of Roman excess, then Talladega symbolizes ours.

Driving around in circles is not a sport.

The very mentality of NASCAR and its fans embodies the modern American ideal of consumption as a sport. This is the hot dog eating contest, the pie/bratwurst/donut/burrito eating contest, the drinking game, the hunting or fishing trip… this is game of overconsumption taken to an exponential extreme.

Of course, I’m talking about petroleum.

You see, it seems like every day I hear someone complain about the price of gas. Oil reaches $80/barrel. Gasoline reaches over $3/gallon. It’s becoming more and more common for people to spend $50 or more on gasoline every week. They all want to complain about it, of course, and I want to feel sorry for them, but then after they’re done complaining I see them get into their Suburbans, their Escalades, their Explorers, their Hummers and drive away. And right there, on the back window, is their #24 sticker, or their checkered flag.

I don’t feel sorry for you. I can’t. You’re the one burning 18 barrels of petroleum every day just pulling your 6,000-lb truck all over town. You’re the one who thought that an SUV might be the best choice of vehicle for a single person driving 30-40 miles a day. Fuck you.

I don’t feel sorry for you. I can’t.

You’re the one blocking the view in front of me when I’m sitting in the left turn lane. You’re the one blinding me with your headlights from behind. Yes, you’re god damn right you should pay a fucking premium for that. Eat it and smile, asshole.

You’re the ones, lined up by the hundreds or even thousands, around a giant stadium watching the height of civilization: the needless waste of a limited and expensive natural resource. And then complaining to ME about it.

Let’s just imagine, for a moment, that auto racing was outlawed. What difference would that make? How much fuel is consumed by just one car during the Indy 500? And how many cars are in that race? And don’t forget the qualifying race? And how many semi trucks per crew to get the cars, supplies, and people to that race… for each crew? And how many races in a year? How does 2 million gallons sound?

And don’t forget the fuel required to get all of those thousands of redneck assholes into the stands. In their SUVs. Many of them coming hundreds of miles to see the race.

But wait. That’s all before we consider how many other things depend on petroleum. There’s the oil in the track. There’s petroleum required for all of those tires they burn up on that track. Belts. Hoses. Molded plastic parts galore. Plastic seats. It goes on and on.

Now think of the environmental impact. All of that is not only consumption of oil pulled out of the ground… it’s also hydrocarbons going into the air. It’s global warming. It’s smog. It’s pollution. It’s lung cancer and skin cancer.

And for what? What did you get out of it? An afternoon of watching advertisements pass you over and over again. You got the chance to see a few dozen jerkoffs turn left a couple thousand times without ever having to turn right. And who knows? Maybe you were lucky and got to see a few of those dickheads crash. Woohoo! Cool! Fuck you.