An Open Letter to the So-Called “Guardians of the Galaxy”
Dear “Guardians of the Galaxy”,
I know your little movie came out over two years ago but don’t think you’re off the hook just quite yet. If you think you can be a “superhero” or a “superhero team” in this town, you got some things you gotta answer to first, such as:
What are you even guarding?!
Seriously. You all claim to be guardians of sorts but I’m not really sure what you’re guarding there, fellas. Computer chips? Chocolate chips? Double mocha mozzarella sticks? Sorry, not sorry, but if you wanna be big-boy guardians, you gotta guard big-boy things. Oh, you’re guarding the whole galaxy? Really? Spare me, please. The galaxy is huge. How are you even gonna get from one end of the galaxy to the other anyway? In a rocket ship or something? I’ll believe it when I see it.
Why is one of you a raccoon?!
One of you is for real a raccoon? Do you even hear yourself? “Oh hey, we’re the guardians of the galaxy and one of us is a raccoon.” You’ll get laughed out of every room. What’s the raccoon “guard” gonna protect? It might be able to protect a dumpster from some old salami I guess but, somehow, I even doubt that. If you’re gonna have a raccoon, you might as well add a hippo and a giraffe and call yourselves the “Idiots of the Stupid Galaxy”.
And one of you is a tree?!
I’m a pretty private person so I generally have a big problem with open letters. They’re written by attention-seekers who’d rather talk about themselves than actually use letters as they’re meant to be used (I.E. PRIVATE CORRESPONDENCE). But for this, I needed to make an exception to my little rule and write a big ol’ public letter. And not because I couldn’t find an address to mail you a physical letter (I guess raccoons only use mailboxes to eat trash out of?). The reason I decided to write an open letter is because I’m hoping someone else reads this before you bozos get a chance to and calls 9–1–1 for me because I’m having a fucking heart attack right now because one of you is a fucking tree.
Wait, so you’re ALL the funny one?!
Hold on, back-it-up, beep beep beep, you all think you’re funny? If I’m gonna accept that you have a raccoon on your “team”, it makes sense that it’ll be a funny raccoon. But your main guy seems like a real jokester, too. And the girl looks all sassy like she’s gonna cut people down to size with her snippy dialogue and the muscle guy seems like he’s got a few dry ones up his sleeve and the tree’s obviously a goddamn clown. So what? You’re all just a bunch of comedians? Maybe if you spent a little less time “cracking wise” and a little more time, I don’t know, maybe “guarding the actual galaxy”, I (and a whole lot of other people) could take you a bit more seriously.
Why are you always getting medals?!
Every time I turn on the TV or log on online, I’m ambushed with non-stop “news” about how you guys got awarded yet another medal for God-knows-what. Who’s always giving you medals?! For what?! What are you doing?! Go home.
Do you have any respect for actual heroes?
Nurses. Teachers. Cops. Firefighters. Mothers. Let these words burn into your little brains because these are ACTUAL heroes. And maybe they’re not all famous and maybe they’re not always attractive and maybe thinking about the little people makes you “guardians” sick but, I have a newsflash for you: these heroes I speak of are actually SUPER. So while you’re running around with your dicks in your hands and your capes flapping about, try to pause for a moment and remember the REAL SUPERHEROES guarding and protecting you and your idiot raccoon.
I hope you all die.
I thought I was the kind of person that would never wish death upon anyone. But you probably thought you were a “superhero team” so I guess we were both wrong. What you’re doing out there is not just embarrassing, it’s dangerous. There are children in the world (and maybe even in the galaxy since you care so much about the whole galaxy) and I can’t stand for a group of imbeciles (and a raccoon and a tree for some reason) recklessly getting themselves in and out of trouble, giving them the impression that it’s “cool” or “hip”. You know what’s actually cool? Believing in yourself and doing what’s right. And you know what’s right. Stop with the nonsense and just go home. Or at least have the courtesy to die.
Your friend (not),
Alex Kavutskiy