NASCAR divides friends from enemies, kin from outsiders. It's jingoism incarnate, and a living parody of the parody that is Talladega Nights. But it's also a distinctly American art form, on par with jazz or Chicago blues, rooted in immigration and desperation, and full of contradictions like illiterates who can intuit fluid dynamics. It's pastoral the way few things in the US truly can claim to be.
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