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I am thanks-giving

[imagine this as a Saturday Night Live skit, spoken in a thick Indian accent, parodying a U.S. government campaign to mitigate anti-American sentiment amongst immigrant populations]

I luv this country. My family migrated here, with nothing but a dream (and some rotis and achaar [pickled spices] that weren’t appreciated by passengers sitting near us on the plane) and a handful of dollars to get us by after we first landed in the great All-Umrican city of Wichita, KS. We came on a KLM flight, which was no less of a milestone for us as the Mayflower was for the original migrants who came here.

Anyway, I was saying I luv this country. It is the land of hope, of opportunity, and now the land of racist conservatives. What more could I want for my family than that trifecta! I can’t wait to be rich one day, and I’m going to get there with hard work, lots of luck, and playing the American government for the douchebags they are by working the wonderful law system in this country to channel my money all over the world to avoid paying taxes (much like Google and other big companies here do). Then I’ll be rich, and I’ll live the American dream, and eat and drink and drive and…and buy stuff I don’t need and throw away stuff I thought I wanted or needed but didn’t want or need – all without a care!

I’m getting teary-eyed talking about my luv for this country and it’s wonderful racist conservatives. I love them all. They’re all so…civilized, and they talk about how they got where they are with their hard work, and serving in the military, and I can’t wait to be where they are some day. And when I get there I’m going to buy their art collections and their mansions and fuck their daughters and hire their Ivy League-educated sons to clean my house (which used to be their mansion), all the while I sit there in a traditional Indian pajama and stink up the neighborhood with the stench of coconut from the south Indian dishes my personal cook – who also came here with a dream in her eye but then landed in the wrong hands and finally ended up in my kitchen – makes for me and my friends and all my fellow immigrant bitches and whores and sluts.

My my my, what am I talking about here, I need to clean my mouth with soap! I luv with country and I don’t want anything bad to happen to it. That’s all I was really trying to say.

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