I Only Salute One Flag, Amigos
the commune's Omar Bricks explains why you can't spell Nationalism without “Anal Mist” 

Monday, Oct. 15, 2001
In the wake of all these bogus attacks, I’ve begun to thinking, dudes. It’s as predictable as a clockwork hooker that when the bombs start falling and ye olde America is under attack that the peoples gonna rally and start flying the flag with the ballsy chant of, “U! S! A!” Whether or not they can say the periods in “U.S.A.” or not is completely up to them, though I ain’t yet heard anyone say “U period S period A period!” Even if they would they’d probably forget that last damned period, always forgettable, like Neptune when you try to remember all the planets.

Flying the red, white and blue (and I swear there’s some orange on there, but no one will back me up on this) is cool, I guess, if you’re just overly patriotic and lack imagination. But personally, and take no offense, chillun’s, Omar Bricks don’t salute no flag whether it’s pure Americana or the McDonald’s golden arches flag. “You faggot!” some of you jerkoffs are probably yelling already, thinking me some kind of terrorist-sympathizer or something else, or maybe you’re just an asshole, I can’t explain your shortcomings, but no, you’ve got me wrong, compadres. Omar Bricks is more American than the hairs in Uncle Sam’s ass. And don’t you forget it.

I salute one flag, no lie, all y’all. It’s the flag of Omar Bricks. In case you think me some kind of poet lariet or something and I’m using some metaphorical device to say I salute kindness and compassion and shit, get your gay ass out of town because I don’t play that game. I’m talking a real flag. I got the idea after I saw, “Seven Samurai” and those kick-ass samurais got together and made themselves a bad motherfucker of a flag.

Now, in that movie, the samurai drew some little designs of themselves on the flags and all the circles—about forty of them—represented all the weak-dick bandits they was yet to kill. And when they got the nasty job done, they’d mark off all the bastards they iced, which I thought was top-notch. At the time, me, myself, Omar Bricks, was in college and didn’t really have too many enemies to speak of, except some history teacher who had it in for me and some bitch who said I got her sister pregnant, but she didn’t even have a sister, she was trés psycho. But I did have little ugly faces on the flag when it started, long since marked out once those perpetrators got theirs, though you can’t prove nothin’, amigo.

The Bricks flag has a design beautiful in its simplicity, sweetness: A big-ass blue flag with a huge white “O” on it, for my name, duh, and a sizzlin’ pot leaf in the middle, just like Canada’s flag, so yous know right away what I stand for. I ain’t going to dumb it down for nobody, boys, I speak in plain terms for plain people. I believe in freedom, pure and simple.

Consequently, it’s not against the law to burn the Bricks flag, but it will bring swift retaliation against your punk ass. There’s never been a case of anyone burning the Bricks flag, but the closest to desecration it’s come was a few years back when that fat-ass ex-roommate of mine Chazz wiped his Cheetos-covered hands off on it, the fucker, and the flag still wears the scars to this day. Likewise Chazz has a big gash on the back of his head shaped just like a folding chair to remind him the price of freedom.

So if you want to dance on America, all you third world badasses, come over here and dance on the Bricks flag, if you dare. I’ve got more than enough folding chairs to supply ass-whuppin’ for years to come.