Ever since adults picked up literacy from their kids, the world has been divided into two types of people:
- Those who read Harry Potter and tragically admit to it
- Those who read Harry Potter and hide it behind protesting too much
Let me clarify. There’s nothing wrong with reading Harry Potter and watching the movies and maybe even dressing up every once in a while (if you’re hot). Though the wheel may be squeaky, the real problem isn’t adults.
It’s not even witchcraft, morally-ambiguous elf slavery or alcoholism.
It’s the children. Have you met one lately? Don’t they seem a little … (How do I put this delicately?) … British? I mean, not full-on Great Brit, just more British than any healthy juvenile should be?
This, in itself, isn’t a new problem, either. Americans have suffered from periodic British invasions since the very non-feathered founding of our nation. Fortunately, we’ve always been able to repel them back to the little island that the rest of Europe quarantined them on in the first place.
This time, though, it’s different. By disguising these Britons as wizards, “muggle”* children are unable to recognize the bland, doily threat that is dividing and conquering our American culture, and it is because of magic.
Cases in point:
- Wizards carry magic protecting sticks called “wands” instead of guns.
- Wizards ride magical mass-transit trains instead of driving their own SUV.
- Wizards eat magical candy and puddings instead of properly maintaining their teeth.
- Wizards learn magic instead of employable facts like state capitals and haikus.
Think about it. Did you ever see anyone ask for Harry’s insurance card whenever he was in the hospital? Oh, he was just magically covered for bone replacement!
Normally, thinly-veiled allegorical attacks on the American way are easily dismissed. We didn’t give the British Office the time of day. But, Potter Britishness has already taken hold.
- Skinny jeans: Until just a few years ago, American children wanted to be Naz and wore baggy jeans accordingly. Now tight European pants are in. What’s next? Speedos?
- Soccer: Wizards play quidditch, which—as far as Americans know—is soccer. Now, all of a sudden, we’re kind of good at the sport, but still don’t watch it like when the movies are on ABC Family. (Commercials are for pee breaks, quidditch is for getting your duke on.)
- Satire: Are there any serious comedians anymore? What happened to straight-forward, honest jokes about women’s and Asians’ impaired driving abilities? The Internet is now full of people pretending to hold a contrary opinion and inflating it to ridiculous conclusions.
Notice how all of them start with the letter “s?” That’s parceltongue, friends, and it’s charming the “Don’t Tread On Me” snake. (Us.)
It seems innocent enough, but consider the threat of future ongoing influence.
- English is declared the official language of America: Rowling and her ilk wouldn’t want us reading the Magical Realism of Spanish-language writer Gabriel Garcia Márquez, now would they?
- End punctuation fluctuating in and out of quotation marks: In a word, anarchy.
- Tanning is outlawed: What will our sorority girls do with their spare time? Of course, hold tea parties.
- Hated world leaders are compared to You-Know-Who: How will the legacy of trivializing Adolf Hitler to villainize ineffective boobs in military uniforms survive the work of the Dark Lord? It’ll only be a matter of time that we have to visit a Holocaust museum just to get our Hitler fix.
So, please, take a moment to talk to your children about the seriousness of Britannica. You may think they’re listening to you, but don’t be fooled; British children just seem more polite. Hit them to accentuate each bullet point in your list of why it’s bad to be British, no matter how cool their friends make it seem.
After all, we saw what British peer pressure did to Africa, Asia, Australia and countless islands.
*You know what other word has two “g’s” in it and is used as an insult?