Saturday, June 29, 2013


I've gotta hand it to progressives: When they want a group of people gone, they have a way of doing it that leaves the affected party grinning from ear to ear... Before they're exterminated, of course.

Consider the late "gay problem". Gays have long been a thorn in the sides of progressives, showing up to dinner parties with far superior casseroles, correcting their style, and indulging their women's shopping addiction. The problem was, how to exterminate them without looking like bigoted dicks? Well, there's an app for that.

The social institutions that kept gays reproducing, which ensured that a society's party decorations would always be fabulous, that its casseroles would always be delicious, and that its men would always be well-dressed for business meetings, became the target. The noble wives of gay men, who ensured the perpetuity of gay traits, became "covers", and made fine targets for ridicule in the low media.

Now, every good crusade needs its barbarians. The conservative puppet-arm was harnessed for this, as usual, to provide the "oppressive" atmosphere needed to make gays feel well and truly disenfranchised. Replete with religious fanatics screaming about sexual preferences being a sign of the end times, this move was highly effective in convincing the gays of their own disenfranchisement.

Gays joined the cause in droves. Lesser progs were called from every tumblr blog to fight the good fight, and preserve the "civil liberties" of gays. As always, sentiment was paramount, and the consequences of their actions (which were, of course, intended) went unspoken. Under a flood of red and pink Facebook profile pictures, rainbow-colored website headers, and condescending crocodile humor targeting "hateful people", the straw enemy was assaulted.

Thus, DOMA, the Great Evil constructed of Baptist sermons and pure hate, was struck down, and gays were free... Complicit in their own silent ethnic cleansing which would be complete in only a few generations, as their genes faded away.

Decades from now, young progs will look up at a monument of George Takei and think of his great accomplishments in the destruction of his own kind, and all the straight progs will revel in their ugly concrete buildings, burnt casseroles, and bizarre businesswear.