So I'm watching this clip on You Tube:
(After Levon's speech, it's all downhill, like big time.)
And I'm thinking, "Jesus Christ, more village music!" Enough with the village music for Christ's sake! Zurnas and dohols. What, do I wake up to my ass braying every morning? No, I wake up to the goddamn 210 freeway, and it's loud. Let me tell you something: Village rituals does not for a culture make. You understand? Dancing in a circle at a wedding doesn't mean anything. How else can I put it? You look like a fucking idiot when you swing the handkerchief at the head of the line. All of that business is gone, gone, gone. You understand?
Yeah, the duduk is beautiful, but it's too late, way too late to enjoy it. We're 22nd century Armenians. Which means that we are way to late to the table: All the people that count have eaten and gone already; all we can do is look at the left-overs and drool. And NOT eat.
That's who we are. I'm sorry, but that is who we are. You do a Google image search for "Armenian" and all you get is dead people and patriarchs. What kind of a culture is that? Getting killed is something that you are proud of? That's something to celebrate? Fuck that. Kill them back! Ten times motherfucking over!
Anyway, I'm sitting and thinking about this, and I'm thinking who are we, Armenians. And the only conclusion that I reach is that we're Jewish Aryans.
I officially invite anybody else to come up with a better explanation.