We Shall Fight In the Fields and In the Streets

Ah, it's that time of year again, the time when RFK's empty lots fill with pick-up trucks and late '80s rust-covered Cutlass Sierras. Everywhere you look, you see mullets, stretched-out tanktops, and filthy-mouthed urchins wearing #8 T-shirts that've been washed so many times -- once a week for the last 14 years (hand-me-downs from their siblings) -- that the rubberized print has cracked and peeled. Yes, kids, Baltimore is in town. Hide the women. Hide the children. And, yeah, you probably want to hide the men, too.

Oh, there are many reasons to hate that foul, beastly, armpit of a city. Lest I work myself up into a lather before I've had my second cup o' coffee, I'll just send along this from the old Capitol Punishment archives, an oldie, but still appropriate.

And lest that's not enough to sate thine appetite, remember on this Preakness weekend, that Baltimore is the city that KILLED BARBARO!!!!!!!!! And if you're the kind of heartless bastard whose blood doth not run cold at those words, first I'd like to thank you, Mr. Defense Contractor, for the hard work you do supplying our nation's military, and second, I'd point out that Baltimore is the city that KILLED BARBARO!!!!!!!! leading thousands of people to produce schlock like this. And this. And this. And this.

And if that's not enough to get you to realize what a scourge, a blight, a plague that Baltimore is, nothing will. And I weep for your soul.

If that's not enough, this headline seems especially appropriate today.