The state of the State of this Col­umn can­not be over­stated

The Standard Journal - - POLICE & FIRE - DICK YAR­BROUGH

My fel­low Amer­i­cans (Yea! Clap! Clap! Clap!). I come to­day to sub­mit to you my an­nual State of the Col­umn ad­dress. It is with great pride that I tell you that the state of the state of this col­umn can­not be over­stated! (Thun­der­ous roar!)

In the past year, I have writ­ten more than 39,000 words (Clap! Clap!) That, my fel­low Amer­i­cans, is more words than ap­pear in the Get­tys­burg Ad­dress and the Hahira phone­book com­bined! (Sus­tained ap­plause!) And un­like the Get­tys­burg Ad­dress and the Hahira phone­book, I used a lot of big words. (Clap! Clap!) Big words im­press my friends and con­fuse my en­e­mies and make my edi­tors go to the dic­tio­nary to be sure I’m not slip­ping some­thing by them. (Ha! Ha! Ha!)

It was cer­tainly a busy year. Once again, I man­aged to of­fend both su­per­cil­ious lib­er­als and gun-totin’ Bi­ble thumpers in equal parts. (Yea! Yea!) Ad­mit­tedly, this tends to frus­trate those who pre­fer their po­lit­i­cal columnists be pre­dictably lib­eral or con­ser­va­tive. That way they don’t have to think — and nei­ther do the columnists. (Ha! Ha! Ha!).

I am pleased to an­nounce a new ini­tia­tive that will al­low for bet­ter clar­ity as to my po­lit­i­cal opin­ions. Be­gin­ning to­day, I will ar­range for the reader who called me a “bed-wet­ting lib­eral” and the reader who called me a “bigot” to get to­gether and com­pare notes and see if they can come to some mu­tual un­der­stand­ing. It is my hope that when they do, they will wet-kiss and all will be for­given. ( Sus­tained ap­plause!)

Now, let us talk about the wall.

As you know, I have ad­vo­cated a wall be built on our north­ern border from LaFayette to Clay­ton to curb the in­flux of loudtalk­ing, know-it-all Yan­kees who think we live on dirt roads and marry our third cousins. (Ha! Ha! Ha!) As for those al­ready here, it is ob­vi­ous they will not leave and go back to where it snows 10 months a year and all their build­ings are rusted. There­fore, I am propos­ing that they be re­quired to swear al­le­giance to grits, col­lard greens and sweet tea. (Yea! Yea! Clap! Clap! Clap!)

To the west, I will work to see that a wall is con­structed from Dal­ton to Don­al­sonville to de­ter Nick Sa­ban (Boo! Boo!) from in­fil­trat­ing our bor­ders from Alabama each De­cem­ber and ru­in­ing the hopes and dreams of the more-de­serv­ing young scholar-ath­letes ably rep­re­sent­ing the Red and Black. (Stand­ing ova­tion! Cries of Woof! Woof!) How­ever, as much as I want these walls built, I will not shut down this col­umn! (An­other stand­ing ova­tion!)

I am aware of spu­ri­ous ru­mors that this col­umn is be­ing in­flu­enced by the Rus­sians. I tell you un­equiv­o­cally Это просто чушь собачья and any­one who be­lieves oth­er­wise can Поцелуй мой проход. Heck, I don’t even eat Rus­sian dress­ing! (Да! Да!)

As has been my goal since this col­umn be­gan, I will con­tinue my ef­forts to erad­i­cate hu­mor im­pair­ment. (Clap! Clap! Clap!) It has not been and will not be an easy task. If any­thing, hu­mor im­pair­ment seems to be on the rise. There are those find noth­ing hu­mor­ous in Colin Kaeper­nick sell­ing lamp­shades and soap. (Ha! Ha! Ha!) Not to men­tion leg­is­la­tors who want guns ev­ery­where but the state Capi­tol. (Boo! Hiss!) Sup­port­ers of You-Know-Where In­sti­tute of Tech­nol­ogy find no hu­mor in the fact that the Univer­sity of Ge­or­gia, the old­est state-char­tered univer­sity in the na­tion, lo­cated in Athens, the Clas­sic City of the South, has more Rhodes Schol­ars than they have green space. (Ha! Ha! Ha! Woof! Woof! Go, you Hairy Dawgs!)

An­other fo­cus in 2019 will be con­tin­ued col­lab­o­ra­tion with Claude the White­tail Deer and his col­leagues on Jekyll Is­land to pre­vent mem­bers of the Jekyll Is­land Au­thor­ity from shoot­ing them be­cause they eat a few flow­ers from time-to-time and, there­fore, are con­sid­ered a nui­sance. Work­ing closely with Claude, we have so far been able to con­vince the Jekyll Is­land Au­thor­ity that vis­i­tors come to Jekyll to see the deer, not them, and if they want to elim­i­nate a nui­sance, start with the lawyers. Nei­ther Claude nor I can think of a big­ger nui­sance. (Sus­tained ap­plause!)

In clos­ing, let me say to you, my fel­low Amer­i­cans, it will be my great honor to serve as your mod­est and much­beloved colum­nist an­other year. God bless you all — un­less you are an athe­ist. God will deal with you later. God bless Amer­ica. God bless Ge­or­gia. God bless corn-fried shrimp. And God, I’m glad to be through with this col­umn. (Thun­der­ous roar!)

You can reach Dick Yar­brough at [email protected]­; at P.O. Box 725373, Atlanta, Ge­or­gia, 31139 or on Face­book at



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