The government know what's best for us, right?

If you weren't too busy not visiting your local, independently-operated bookstore last week (in my case, Barnes & Noble), you might have noticed something unsettling. Namely, demonic stacks of "And Tango Makes Three" and similarly appalling titles obstructing your glorious path to national literary treasures like George Washington's "The Bible" and Stephen Colbert's "I Am America (And so can you!)."

And if you're still suffering a bout of PTSD from encounters with these piles of temptation, you're not alone.

Last week was Banned Books Week, an annual crusade of the occultist-style American Library Association (yes, there is such a thing and I sure as hell don't trust it) to weaken our collective nationalist identity by getting us to read.

If you aren't sketched out yet, continue on. Or pray for your communist soul.

First of all, Banned Books Week is as much of a misnomer as Labor Day, or Sublime with Rome. Rather than banning, as the title suggests, all the hardcover-bound crap out there that depletes us of our inherent American purity (were we to be a nation of readers in the first place), Banned Books Week instead celebrates the titles that get the most publicity for being not white, not Christian, not straight, not happily monogamous, not featuring a functioning alcoholic in a supporting role … aka not American.

There's no second of all. But, what's most disturbing about all of this? They're going after our kids. Well, your kids. Or whoever has kids' kids. Tragically, the number of books being banned has gone down over the past few years, but hopefully that curve will head back up.

The ALA released their list of the top ten books most sited as controversial in 2014, and the majority were children's books and young adult novels. "And Tango Makes Three" by Peter Parnell and Justin Richardson — you know, the gay penguin picture book that caused an uproar ten years ago when it was released? Yeah, well it made its way back to the third spot on the ALA's list after taking a year off.

I'm not sure what's worse: the fact that it promotes homosexuality, promotes the agenda of native Antarctic animals and not American ones like gay dogs, or that the book is purported to be a work of fiction when really it's based on the story of Roy and Silo of New York's Central Park Zoo.

And while Robie Harris' "It's Perfectly Normal" reminds us of our all but forgotten, painstakingly awkward pubescent years through grotesquely accurate diagrams and illustrations, Sherman Alexie's "The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian" (which tops this year's list) reminds us of the atrocities we'd prefer to forget we committed in the name of manifest destiny. Neither anti-American effort is appreciated.

Three comic books (which academic circles keep trying to disguise as literature by renaming "graphic novels") were also included on the top-ten list: Saga by Brian Vaughan, Persepolis by Marjane Satrapi, and Drama by Raina Telgemeier. And not because we don't want our kids taking it easy on their minds during crucial intellectual developmental years by "reading" picture books. That's fine. As long as these "novels" don't include extraterrestrial interracial marriage (yeah, really) of any kind, sex or violence of any kind, penguins of any kind, and aren't written by a French Iranian or some hippie crackpot named Raina.

Toni Morrison's "The Bluest Eye" shocked no one by making the list once again (in its attempt to promote the fallacy of a black female author's ability to be one of the most influential voices of our time … lol not American), nor did Stephen Chbosky's "The Perks of Being a Wallflower." Because this is America, where there ARE no perks to being a wallflower.

Since I've never actually read any of these titles, or the other two on this year's list that I didn't mention because my communist school forced me to read them, I'm feeling proud this week. And as we emerge from the dark that is Banned Books Week, and into the oh-so-patriotic remaining 51 weeks where we celebrate things more important than books, you can too. If you were too ignorant to know that last week was Banned Books Week, or simply too indifferent (stoned) to pick up one of the aforementioned scandalous titles, feel free to give yourself a pat on the back for what is obviously a testament to your intrinsic Americanism.

To life, liberty, and Netflix, my comrades.