In a dimly lit room at an undisclosed location, aging soldiers of a shamed and once fearsome army gather in the tacky regalia of their misspent youth and drink to the memory of their long lost fearless leader, a man disgraced by history who's grainy black and white image flickers like an electronic ghost on a nearby wall, ten feet tall. No, these aren't the Boys From Brazil mooning over their dearly departed Hitler. These are wealthy Penn State alumni celebrating the 50th anniversary of their alma mater's appointment of my communities local demigod, Joe Paterno, best known by the sane world outside of this counties confines as the worst rape-appeaser west of Vatican City. But this isn't the sane world folks. This is Happy fucking Valley. The place I call home. And these people aren't Nazi's, their my neighbors.
I wish I could tell you that these kind of sickening displays of affection for the morally derelict are an anomaly here. The campus trustees would surely have you believe this, thus the clandestine nature of the above mentioned creepy little shindig. But it's not. It's been at least forty years since Joe knew and it's been over five since the rest of the Nittany Nation has too and they remain as complacent and undisturbed as their revolting hero. Their are over fifty children who's lives were mercilessly eviscerated by Jerry Sandusky and his willing accomplice Joe Paterno and those are just the ones that we know of. The real victim count is likely much much higher. But the Nittany Nation couldn't fucking care less. Who cares about ass-rape and strangled childhoods when there's football games to be lost to teams with half the funding and a third of the resources as the multi-billion dollar student-debt factory known as Penn State. This is the twisted fucking mindset of your average Nittany Lion who lives in a state of perpetual denial and outright indifference.
According to your average Nittany Lion, JoPa is innocent. In fact JoPa is the real victim here and all the mountains of court documents, eye witness accounts and quote unquote evidence are all just part of a vast conspiracy to destroy dear poor old JoPa and abuse the carefully constructed illusions of his sick little fan-club. The sane world has deemed these pretentious little twats Penn State Truthers and they have made their presence known world wide on the world wide web, trolling every message board from here to Timbuktu that dares to mention their dear leader's name without licking his crusty nut-sac and often threatening his critics with acts of sexual violence that would get Sandusky hard. Anybody who has had the supreme misfortune of spending more than thirty seconds online with one of these human toilet-bowls has a new appreciation for the revolting level of depraved ignorance that human beings have become capable of in the twilight of our own self-imposed extinction. Try living with these motherfuckers and you'll also have a new appreciation for my festering issues with agoraphobia.
In my savage minds-eye, old Joe became as guilty as Jerry the moment he found out about his grotesque extra-curricular activities and decided to cover them up for sake of his career rather than doing the right thing and calling the fucking cops like any sane person with half a soul to squeeze. And the whole damn Nittany Nation became just as guilty as Joe the moment they decided to ignore and silence the truth about their soiled hero rather than growing the fuck up and excepting the harsh reality that his carefully crafted cult of personality was a fucking lie. You are all complicit! Joe knew and so do you!
Yes, dearest motherfuckers, I live in a community full of collective sex offenders. And people wonder why I'm afraid to leave my fucking house.