Light and hearty observations from a fat and ugly guy. Home of hackneyed drivel and ersatz-existentialist effluence. Choleric biliousness a specialty, since 1958.

Helen, Georgia -- it's better than Berchtesgaden!

Was ist dies? Helen, Georgia is this strange little hamlet deep in the Appalachian mountains that, in order to increase tourism, remade itself in 1969 into a Bavarian village.

Residents who up to that point wore mostly overalls while playing the banjo started wearing leiderhosen while playing the tuba. All the buildings and houses got new Germanic facades (see photo, left); all the stores started selling pigs feet and strong beer, Leni Reifenstahl movies ran in continuous loop in the town's filmpalast. And then, of course, die Juden...well, there was one family, but they moved on up the road a piece, into Clark County, dontcha know. Y'all don't come back now, ya hear?

This bewildering attempt to Nazify the place has reaped real benefits: for a town populated by these obviously confused rednecks, Helen now accounts for much of the tourism dollars influx to the region. Kann Sie ficken glaubt es?

Which raises a question.

Suppose there's a small town in Germany somewhere, in the mountains, with no tourists and a failing economy. What if they created their own little Georgia mountain town?

Imagine: you're in the car, fahn-fahn-fahning auf der Autobahn, and you pull off into our imaginary stadt. First, you encounter boiled peanuts stands. Point the BMW further, and you start to see pickups on blocks by the side of mobile homes. Old, rusty Kelvinators on the front porch. Toothless women. Men chawing away and spitting Copenhagen juice indiscriminately, all over die burgersteige. Then, ultimately, you encounter the Holy Grail, the Pied Piper, the Siren Call heeded willingly and unquestionably by Southerners everywhere: a Waffle House-enzie next to a Wal Mart-enzie.

Willkommen zum Süden, Bruder!

posted by Nigel St.John Regina Smegmatica Howle-Raines @ 1:08 PM