How did the social media grievance commissars forget about cows?
Remember last week when I told you that eggplant and hotdog emojis were somehow evidence of hate speech to the SJW victim class? Well, if cows keep telling us to eat more chicken, like they do on behalf of Chick-fil-A, then how on earth can the cow emoji not become enemy No. 1 in the growing fight to make absolutely no sense whatsoever and destroy your nation while doing it?
Chick-fil-A is, gasp, a Christian business that has showed support for actual marriage in the past. That makes it totally not bigoted at all for a “journalist” like the woke but not always woke Soledad O’Brien to take to Twitter and question its CEO for daring to eat there during LGBTXYZ666 pride month.
Which in turn caused that CEO, the sissified Jack Dorsey, to recant his grievous mortal sin, brought on by what can only be evil cow witchcraft.
Which in turn caused the Huffington Post to move rhetorical heaven and earth at this existential crisis of our times, by calling everyone who henceforth dares to eat at Chick-fil-A a despicable cow of the most virulent sort who can’t be trusted with the keys of progressivism ever again.
It’s us versus them! Over chicken.
Which makes the answer to the question “How is my gay marriage going to impact you?” from not so long ago even more surreal than ever. If you chose “with limited access to tasty poultry” as the answer, then you are a sage and a prophet, my friend, who has won nothing but the opportunity to be hazed and/or fired along with the bakers and the florists — those fiends.
It’s a growing club. We’ve got jackets made of sackcloth and ashes.
I swear, if a peaceful alien race with absolutely no history of violence or warfare actually discovered us at the present time and attempted to befriend us, they would not only be reflexively forced into inventing weapons of mass destruction after witnessing the folly of our collective preposterousness, but totally justified in using them on us posthaste, of only to make sure such a loathsome contagion doesn’t spread into the rest of the universe.
Alien walks in the doors of the Huffington Post and says “We come in peace.”
Huffington Post curator of SJW authenticity responds by asking if the aliens have movie and television options back home with rich representation of members of the queer community. I mean, obviously.
Aliens awkwardly make up excuse about leaving the oven on at home and that maybe they can pass the “sharing ball” another day.
Huffington Post curator of SJW authenticity is triggered by such a breach of rainbow etiquette. Time to double down: Are any from your landing party transgendered, and if they transitioned from male to female, have they defeated any of your women in a high school footrace?
Aliens, who thought they might meet somebody groovy like Jean-Luc Picard or Bobby Flay, panic and give the growing Huffington Post mob before them an awkward rendition of the “it’s not you, it’s me” routine.
Sensing that love is not love with these interlopers, the Huffington Post curator of SJW authenticity schedules the aliens for sensitivity training before proceeding any further with interplanetary negotiations. First order of business: Watch a drag queen host a storybook hour for small children to hammer the point home about the importance of such steps in making sure the next generation never again has to suffer cruelty like that embodied by waffle fries.
Aliens go full Harvey Dent and Two-Face the dickens out of a planet this dumb. Except the cows. Those they keep. And the chicken. Because delicious.