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Now I know what everyone is thinking: Great, there’s 32 dead American’s at Virginia Tech now because of some crazy Korean guy, but now, who do I blame it on and where do I transfer all of my lovely hate into something completely negative? Of course there is the usual suspects with the corresponding solutions: Godlessness cured with Bibles under everyone’s asses, foreigners who smell and look funny solved by mass deportations, hippity-hoppity and black culture in general solved by long trousers and correct grammar, violent video games and TV shows smothered with chastity belts and friendly games of UNO, guns and the monkeys who shoot and sell them, and of course Muslims, always the Muslims with their damn Moo-ham-eed and their damn praying. The summation is pretty simple: in a world of instant punditry, not much long term thought goes into proposed policy change when it hinges on knee jerk reactions. And this is where I step in, link-free and full of the most intelligent thinking 48 hours of hindsight can provide:
Let’s kill Koreans, bathe in their blood, and sell them to the Chinese as dog food.
Now, I know your immediate reaction will be all stifled by politically ‘correct’ thinking. ‘Oh that’s so insensitive, you know all they eat is dog meat and Pokemon soup’ — well you’re wrong, they also eat lots of cabbage and I’m guessing calculators. But think about this in the long term: what if there is another Korean anomaly (the first sign should have been that he wasn’t studying computer science or math) who decides he wants to write crazy plays and then act out his crazy plays by shooting beautiful white children in the face? Do you want to have that blood on your hand, because you, dear reader, were held back by a bunch of outdated liberal ideas of ‘integration’, ‘assimilation’, and ‘freedom from being killed and served to the Chinese as dog food’? No, you don’t want that blood on your hand, because American blood is like holy water and it will sting the nostrils and heart from the stench of spilled freedom. And Jesus WILL make your next child a homosexual if you disobey him and I will not allow him or his domestic partner equal access to health care because I’m uncomfortable with the idea of a penis in a butthole!
Onto the logistics. First you may wonder, how will we deal with all the 2 million Koreans in the United States who provide us valuable services such as laundry mats, convenience stores, laundry mats with adjacent/adjoining convenience stores, and Chinese restaurants. As Michelle Malkin would think, we would have to round them up first. What we could offer is a national Pokemon and Dance Dance Revolution competition, at which point we would subdue all 2 million with free Nintendo DS’es and abacuses.
Then it’s off to the meat factory! But why would we sell Koreans as pet food to the Chinese? Well, its simple really: the Chinese screwed us with their polluted and poisoned pet food, killing off millions of dependents for untold millions of American spinsters and freaks, so we’re going to pay them back the only way we know how. With pet food made of dead Koreans.
Of course, there’s a lot of holes in this idea, and I welcome you, WELL-INFORMED AMERICAN JOE PUBLIC, to help me fill in the gaps. And by the way, thanks to all like me who’ve kept a cool head through all of this, because nothing says rational like comparing your tragedy to 9/11.
Did you say morning? No, no, it’s not good.
Did you say evening? No no, it’s too bad.
Did you say noon? No, no, it’s not the time.
What did you say? Hey, What did you say?
Nothing? Oh, it’s all right – you pick the time.
A-tick, tick, tick, tick, tick-tick
So I’m checking out the latest features from style.com via RSS when an interesting one comes through proclaiming: You’re a douchebag. Sounds interesting, a lil low-end chuckle. Until they describe me essentially to the letter:
I’m waiting for a friend at a wine bar and I see that the guy a couple of stools down from me keeps ostentatiously checking the late-model smartphone that lies before him on the granite countertop. He has the all-black Samsung BlackJack, which happens to be the coolest-looking smartphone there is—at least until the iPhone comes out—and he’s wearing jeans that look like they cost $400, and his haircut was probably half that. I also notice that he’s got an expensive- looking European leather briefcase at his feet that he no doubt calls an attaché.
So I skim that article thoughtfully learning about the douchebag culture of which I’ve apparently joined, when I discover something even more unusual near the end: