Corn-knurling indigenous peoples threw violent public hissy-fits in 2010 after Arizona passed a radical, hateful, bigoted, extremist law touting the insane right-wing idea that people should be able to produce ID when they’re being questioned in connection with a routine crime investigation. Bean swastikas were smeared on government buildings. Mayors of “sanctuary cities” and pop-music performers threatened to boycott the entire state, gloating that Arizona’s tourism industry would be irreparably damaged and THEN those rednecks would be sorry for trying to resist being colonized by Mexico.
Unfortunately for the boycotters, this round of lucha libre went to the rednecks. Arizona tourism’s monetary haul increased 5.4% in 2011 compared to 2010, and several other states were encouraged to prepare bills similar to Arizona’s law.
In early 2011, Wisconsin’s overpaid, underperforming public-union workers stormed the State Capitol like 100,000 fat men in diapers, comparing Governor Scott Walker to Hitler and threatening to poop on everything in sight unless they received their colic medicine and a nice warm ba-ba filled with infant formula. They were even able to force a recall election, certain they’d bring down Boy Hitler and his sinister, teacher-hating, puppy-stabbing corporate string-pullers. They believed in People Power and knew the people would speak out against this savage injustice.
Well, the people spoke, supporting Walker by an even bigger margin than when they elected him governor in 2010.
Last September, Mongoloid hordes of sheltered brats who’d recently graduated with useless degrees in Postmodern Deconstruction of Mesoamerican Pottery took to the nation’s public parks to make lentil stew while stewing with misguided resentment that others had made wiser career choices. They claimed affiliation with “the 99%” until they realized that the bottom percentiles of that 99% weren’t quite so privileged, nor so schooled in Cultural Marxist bumper-sticker sloganeering, and that such elements were also prone to raping and mooching and screaming and stealing your drugs.
Less than a year later, Occupy Wall Street occupies nothing. Canadian magazine Adbusters, which got the whole ball o’ dung rolling, had also sponsored a “Buy Nothing Day” last Black Friday. Yet despite the wretched economy and the best efforts of Adbusters’ graphic designers, Black Friday notched record sales last year.
“Bring me Rush Limbaugh’s fat, pill-popping head on a jumbo-sized silver platter,” demanded the barking vaginas and the neutered white knights of the women’s movement earlier this year after the adipose, cigar-chomping “shock jock” and “hate speaker” suggested that if you were having so much sex that you couldn’t even afford your own birth control, you might be a slut. The unblinking remote-controlled Soros serfs at Media Matters and other gal-friendly proglodytes called for a boycott of Limbaugh’s show, rubbing their tiny bionic hands together with glee as advertisers began to drop him.
Limbaugh’s ratings initially soared as a result of all the attention, then when they gradually fluttered back to normal levels, the leftist punditocracy dishonestly depicted this as a ratings decline. But from at least one account, Limbaugh’s ratings are now higher than they were before the scandal and at least one of his advertisers is nursing the self-inflicted financial wounds from their cowardly decision to run away from controversy.
I call for an immediate moratorium on all boycotts.
A generation ago the militant queers insisted, “Leave your government out of our bedroom.” Now it’s my turn to say, “Leave your sodomy out of my chicken sandwich.” Let the record show that I found it impossible to determine the sexuality of the two meals I ate at Chick-fil-A, even though one of them was a salad.
And that’s how it should be. Not everything is political, so put down your dirty hypodermics and quit injecting politics into everything. As Sigmund Freud’s kid brother Eddie Freud said many moons ago, “Sometimes a chicken sandwich is just a chicken sandwich.”
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