From the failed boycott of the state of Arizona for daring to require ID from those crossing the path of the police, to the failed Wisconsin recall election of Scott Brown pushed by over-paid unionized employees, to the failed public park takeovers of the moronic Occupy movement, to the failed attempt to censure radio’s Rush Limbaugh for daring to slutify a sexually active female freeloader, to the failed gay gangster beat-down of the Chick-fil-A fast food franchise—the organized Mafia-like mob of the hard Left has found itself faced with many whopping failures over the past few years. Could it be that the confrontational tantrum tactics of the oh so faux tolerance toadies have lost their political punch?
Jim Goad seems to think so, and in his sarcastically caustic style, scorches the liberal landscape with his witty and gritty wisdom in his latest article for Taki Magazine. I really love some of Goad’s cutting descriptors, like the Mongoloid herds of sheltered brats in referring to the college crowd elites of the Occupy movement. Or how about the barking vaginas of the frenzied feminist phalanx of the Sandra Fluke fan club. Pure Goad.
After noting the massive misfires of the Left’s temper tirades, Mr. Goad then zeros in on their Chick-fil-A fiasco.
In politics as in life, the squeaky wheel usually gets the grease, but the other three wheels are finally telling the squeaky wheel to shut the hell up. Fast food and public protests typically hold as much appeal for me as rectal cancer, yet last week I simultaneously exposed myself to fast food and a public protest with a pair of visits to the local Chick-fil-A franchise.
By most accounts, Chick-fil-A Appreciation Day was a rousing success. The company claims it racked up record sales. By contrast, the gay kiss-in was generally deemed a flop.
I invest zero emotion in the ongoing gay-marriage brouhaha. I question why the state claims the power to authorize any kind of marriage, as well as why an issue that directly affects—at MOST—one or two percent of the population has such enduring “legs” in the news cycle year after year.
Maybe the sun is finally setting on the Era of Tantrum Politics. Maybe it won’t be so easy anymore to body-slam individuals and businesses to the mat and force them to tap out lest they be shamed and shouted and glitter-bombed and boycotted and extorted and guilt-tripped over the possibility that some hyper-sensitive professional loafer will have their fragile, glass-orchid feelings hurt.
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.” Taki’s Magazine