By Trey Parker and Matt Stone
South Park is a lumbering dinosaur that needs to be put down.
Who is it even for anymore? When we started, it was mostly for fourteen-year-old boys. We catered to their sensibilities and in return we asked a little of them. Challenged their views in some way while still maintaining our iconic brand of taking pot shots at easy targets and digging into those that are most beloved. That’s when we were at our prime, wasn’t it? Not when we gave it to Kanye West while everyone else was giving it to Kanye West, but when we actually dug into the other side of an issue and exposed what their intentions were to an audience of people that were unwilling to listen, unable to see the nuances in people that have different opinions than they do.
Today we just take the side of whoever seems like the easiest target and call it a day. It’s not entirely different from the way we used to approach the show, but it’s lost all of it’s heart. What little of it there was to be had, at least. At the beginning there was a fair amount. The boys were always learning a lesson and the lesson was usually a pretty good one, if we do say so ourselves. Now, if it’s even in there, it’s tacked on. Meaningless. Just the classic deus ex machina to wrap up the mess we just slopped into your homes for the last half an hour. We don’t even try! We’re very open about how we don’t even try, and everyone still watches. Comedy Central still signs the checks. Not that we need them.
That’s the biggest concern that makes us wonder why we do all this. Why, if neither of us needs more money, would we keep making this show? It’s not as if we’re worried that we’re going to run out of money. Even if we were, we could get another job. I think that we’ve proven time and time again that we could get another job. Team America, Book of Mormon, Orgasmo. All colossal hits still generating a huge amount of cash today. And we could make more. Don’t doubt for a second that we could make more. Look at everything we’ve done so far! We made a Broadway musical and it was adored. The fucking South Park guys wrote what many are calling the best Broadway musical in the last fifty years and we’re still coming into the office and writing fat jokes for a ten-year-old to say to a 9-year-old? Shouldn’t we have grown up by now?
It’s not as if we hadn’t tried to quit. Every time we do, Comedy Central adds another 0 to the checks and we get right back to work. But why? We have more than enough money. But the fear is that someday it might run out. Even if it doesn’t, we’re in a position to make a lot of money. A lot more money than almost anybody else on the planet and we kind of wanted to see how far this can go. But lately it just feels empty. Basically we’re just selling out for the fuck of it, which you have to admit, is the most punk rock way to sell out. We don’t even need to do our bullshit sell out show, but we’re doing it anyway, because fuck you.
Fuck everyone. You hated us when we were on the top and you hate us now that we’re still on the top, but only much more so, and with a well-loved legacy. You guys are fucked up. We force-fed you dummies South Park for years after it was culturally relevant and you just ate it up. You loved it. Some of you said it got better every year. You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, and you know what? We don’t care. You can have your South Park, this shit only takes ten weeks out of our year anyway. We’ll keep grinding them out and you keep watching you fat little piggies, you greasy little trolls. Watch more South Park and never bother learning how to be a decent person. Some of you will grow up and try to be like us, but then, oops. You forgot to be massively talented. Forgot to not give a fuck and you tried too hard on something that was shit to begin with and you’ll die poor and alone.
South Park doesn’t give a fuck about you.