Now is the time when we juxtapose, Small Dead Animals-style:
So-called liberals of the so-called progressive variety are now the status quo. They’re the reactionaries, clinging to their outmoded economic theories, their debunked social models, their blinkered opinions, and their unaffordable entitlements. They’re the ones who have sown resentment, envy and division, and made ambition and advancement dirty words. They want you to live for everyone but yourself. If that is the life you choose, so be it; but to force that preference on others is not compassion, it’s tyranny.
Young people once looked forward to the day they would escape the family home and forge their own path through life. Holding down a job, managing their finances and taking responsibility for their actions were what defined them as adults. And a society of such people, working together, was the cornerstone of Western civilisation. But for the past few decades, the Left has sold us a different dream. They have promised to look after the boring admin of life, so we might set off on its great adventure, like Georgian gentlemen embarking on Grand Tours. Even if this vision had not soured to a living nightmare, it would have still been profoundly dehumanising. Coping with the vagaries of life is life. It’s how we express our individuality and become more mature, rounded human beings. By seeking to liberate us from life’s challenges, the Left has turned us into a nation of children, trapped in a shabby, impoverished society, the primary function of which is to subsidise its least productive members.
—Russell Taylor, “We Are the Radicals Now,” the Ludwig von Mises Institute of Canada, yesterday.
“I am a Liberal Fuck,” Krupp wrote in one post. “A Liberal Fuck is not a Democrat, but rather someone who combines political data and theory, extreme leftist views and sarcasm to win any argument while make the opponents feel terrible about themselves. I won every argument but one.”
Krupp then detailed the only political argument he claimed her ever lost, a drunken encounter he had with a “conservative gay prick.”
“I sat in a pizza joint, chomping on meat-heavy pizza and slamming whisky sours with gay guys on Pride Parade day in Columbus, Ohio; My gay roommate and friends loved to ironically ‘bro-out.’ I love gays because they are all liberal fucks too,” Krupp wrote.
“Someone mentions politics and everyone perks up, distracted from the whisky. Equal rights get first dibs, followed by education and then sassy comments about closeted Republicans. Feeding off the energy, I introduce abortion: ‘Old men controlling women’s bodies.’ The guy who’s stayed silent, Chip, joins the conversation,” Krupp wrote.
Krupp claimed that he at first told Chip, a conservative on the abortion issue, that his “ignorant views come from his biological disregard toward pregnancy,” prompting Chip to explain a procedure by which fetuses can be removed from the womb, grown elsewhere, then given up for adoption.
“The whisky yelled at Chip for being a terrible gay man. Chip smirked, knowing full well he won the argument,” Krupp wrote. “To this day, I haven’t fact checked Chip’s scientific report. Beyond the women’s rights implications, I’m afraid it would be the ultimate surrender if I knew the truth. No matter, the liberal fuck lost to the conservative gay prick that day; one rode off into the sunset, the other ordered another whisky.”
Krupp’s parents, an accountant and an attorney, are “Chicago Machine Democrats,” according to a source.
—“Obamacare’s Pajama Boy: ‘I am a liberal f***’”, Patrick Howley, the Daily Caller, today.
“It’s funny when stereotypes self-confirm,” the Insta-professor adds, linking to the above article, and noting that Krupp’s “Most self-revelatory remark” was admitting, “I’m afraid it would be the ultimate surrender if I knew the truth.”
Which sounds very much like what an Obamacare aficionado who was shocked to discover that she was losing her better health plan recently told the New York Times:
“We are the Obama people,” said Camille Sweeney, a New York writer and member of the Authors Guild. Her insurance is being canceled, and she is dismayed that neither her pediatrician nor her general practitioner appears to be on the exchange plans. What to do has become a hot topic on Facebook and at dinner parties frequented by her fellow writers and artists.
“I’m for it,” she said. “But what is the reality of it?”
As Yuval Levin responded at the Corner, “Answer first, question second. This would be funny if it weren’t so sad and serious” — which also sums up the existential plight that Footie Pajamas Boy has trapped himself in as well.
(Taylor’s article found via Kathy Shaidle. Artwork at top of post originally created for Victor Davis Hanson’s new article at PJM, “Pajama Boy Nation.”)
Related: “From Duck Dynasty to F— Dynasty” — now is the time when Steve Hayward of Power Line juxtaposes Footie Pajamas Boy and Duck Dynasty’s pater familias.