A Very Lohan Remembrance Day

Today is Remembrance Day in Canada, when we solemnly pay our respects to those of our citizens who have fallen gallantly on the field of battle. It's sort of like Veteran's Day in the U.S, but ours was created to commemorate World War I, a war that the Americans were only in for about 15 minutes.

There are few things that are as important to a nation's civic consciousness as honoring the dead, but that hardly means that it's the only thing that should be remembered. We should also cherish the things that make us what we are as individual citizens.

That's why I'm taking a few minutes to remember all of the times that I've throttled my turgid meat whilst thinking of Lindsay Lohan. I've found that it centers me. It cools my anger and frustration with the failed civilization that surrounds me, and this makes me a better citizen. Without her, I just don't know where I'd be.

Few people are more important to our civic discourse than Lindsay. For example, I long thought that the concept of American justice had been dumped in a shallow grave somewhere years ago. But until she came along, I just couldn't prove it. What the state of California has subjected Miss Lohan to over the last three years has been nothing less than repugnant and undermines one of the central traditions of human civilization.

Almost since the dawn of time, people of all races and creeds were bound together by the knowledge that redheads with perfect tits are just better people than you and I are in every way. And redheads with perfect tits and chemical dependency issues are even better still. It was well established that they shouldn't be held down by the petty morals and silly laws that so repress the rest of us. They were supposed to live free as reminder of what each of us could be, if only we hadn't failed the genetic lottery. Women like Lindsay Lohan were what Abraham Lincoln called "an appeal to the better angels of our nature."

But no more. The activist judges of the Golden State have defied our very humanity by deciding that Lohan can't drive drunk and posses lots of cocaine, like she was born to do. They have penalized what was once considered so beautiful and they have diminished us all in the process. It is one of the darkest moments in human history. Darker still is the fact that no one is fighting back against her plight or doing all that much to even remember it.

Well, that's not entirely true. My personal hero, Drunken Stepfather (who runs what might just be the most NSFW blog around) and the folks at Max magazine are doing the good and hard work that no one else is. This morning they published a series of semi-nude pictures of Lindsay that will make you remember what we've all lost and it will break your heart.

Sure, the pictures look to be eight or nine months old, but they will make you reflect on her magnificent milkbags; the tiny, pale nipples that redheads are revered the world over for; and an ass so tiny and tight that I'm virtually certain that she squeaks when she walks.

Freedom and sacrifice are important. But so is this. That's why I implore you to visit Drunken Stepfather after work ... and remember. God knows, when she gets out of rehab and starts talking to her jackal of father again, she just won't be the same. And a little piece of each of us will have died.