Each night I ask the Satellite of Love / Why must I be an alter-kocker in love?

Long ago, I realized America is not a melting pot. It’s more of a smorgasbord. That’s the way it should be: we go from ethnicity to ethnicity sucking up what we like out of each culture while sharing our own. Even a hardcore white supremacist will scream at you to go back to where you came from while driving a Kia, listening to Elvis Presley and eating chimichangas.

Nonetheless, our American language has been quite an effective melting pot. For example, most Jew-haters will go Gestapo on your ass while shouting dialogue infused with many common Yiddish words that seem, to these goose-steppers, to be as American as corned beef on rye. That would be cute, if not for the hobnails. Sadly, the extremely useful phrase “alter-kocker” has not been as well-deployed as glitch, chutzpah, and klutz. Alter-kocker means an old man, and it comes from the German phrase for “old defecator.” You’d think our great American swastika lovers would enjoy that. Continue reading “Brainiac On Banjo #045: The Old Defecator Speaks!” →