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Tales of a Post-Grad Nothing

Wednesday, August 02, 2006

Walker's World

Before he became an internet sensation/joke, Chuck Norris was just a simple man with a powerful beard that played a justice-dishing Texas ranger on television. I loved that justice-dishing Texas ranger on television, so when the boyfriend's brother was given the final season of the greatest awesomely awful show to ever grace television, I basically "borrowed" that sucker as quickly as I could get my mitts on it.

Unlike my feelings for most people, my love for Walker, Texas Ranger is pure, unfettered, and never in short supply. Love isn't the right word to describe it. I feel the same pull towards Walker, Texas Ranger that middle-aged suburban moms feel towards my bald, kitchen-handy boyfriend, that my grandmother feels towards Bill O'Reilly, that my brother in law feels towards The Stones (capital T, capital S). Without any hint of pseudo-irony or sarcasm, it's fair to say that I don't just love Walker, I'm involved with Walker on what can only be classified as a sublime level.

I come back to Walker time and time again because unlike real life people, you can always count on Walker...to show up every time I pop in the DVD...to say something so outlandishly obvious it makes me feel like I must be inept for NOT narrating my own life...to dispense justice with roundhouse kicks to the face...to save humanity from a rash of absurd threats (no joke, Walker and the team of Rangers seriously do face the threat of ebola in the final season...who knew that Texas in the mid-90's was so damn dangerous?)...to constantly tow the line between well-kept and homeless-looking...to sport the bolo tie like it's on its way back...to band together with a racially diverse group of motivated rangers to keep the world, or at least the lonestar state, safe, clean, happy, healthy, and above all, morally uncompromised.

Watching Walker is like watching an action film that feature Nazis - In a world of Nazis and drug-smugglin Texans, there can be no moral ambiguity. In Walker's world, bad guys are bad without question. They never turn good. They never make you question your own ethics. They're just bad and there were all born that way and MUST be stopped, usually with a few face-meltingly sweet moves delivered by a surprisingly small man with the ferocity of a puma bubbling somewhere deep inside him. Walker, Texas Ranger sort of gives me hope that one day I can fulfill my dream of living in a sickeningly sweet uncomplicated world completely devoid of neurotic thoughts like "How is it that I've managed to waste the vast majority of my days on earth?" and "Why do my legs always look like tiny, white sausages?"

In Walker's World, good always prevails over evil, the answers to life-altering questions are clear, and nobody ever freaks out over the what if, the hypothetical, or the unimportant. Some people call it living by the frontier code. Walker just calls it the way we were meant to be.


At 10:43 PM, Anonymous frank said...

if you're a chuck norris fan, then you'll be interested in this. his own bridge!


At 11:32 PM, Anonymous Jeff said...

I wish I had the time to pen a similar eulogy about my fevor for Northern Exposure. One day I'll give it all up, move to Sicily, Alaska, and make moves on (pre-collagen) Maggie O'Connell...


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