There is no right or wrong answer to this question, because it’s not a question. It’s your “geist”. It’s your soul. Your core. Your thoughts. Your being. But it can only exist one way or the other, and it’s determined by how you feel about Truck Nutz. Your compatibility with postmodernism is determined by how you feel about testicles hanging from the back of a truck.
Worst display of bigotry since D.W. Griffith’s The Klansman.
You’ve neatly demonized everyone who disagrees with you as a monster truck-owning jerk who lives in a home a “McMansion” — actually, most of us live in two-bedroom, one story homes, increasingly on 1/8th acre “zero” lots, because Wall Street’s wholly-owned subsidiary, the Democratic Party, made bad home loans not just a bad idea, but the law.
And who can afford that monster truck, anyway? Pickup trucks in general are getting to be a little rich for the average American’s blood (as is that socially-correct Volvo station wagon — even Volvo has given up pretending they’re not a luxury import brand, these days).
That world you live in is sure interesting. Perhaps someone from it will land on the White House front lawn and offer to establish diplomatic relations with us.