Wednesday, May 10, 2017

Holocaust? What Holocaust?


Years ago, the leaders in Iran, thought it would be a clever idea to sponsor a Holocaust Cartoon Contest, after all nothing delights the soul or pleases Allah more than the desecration of 6 million corpses.

Moreover it would be a perfect way to exact some type of revenge on those Jews, who not only found a way to make the desert bloom, but also had a nuclear bomb, Stuxnet, and better tasting falafels.

What they didn't count on was two enterprising young Israelis who, in a brilliant display of free speech and one-upmanship, did a ju-jitsu on the Persian leaders and created their own Holocaust Cartoon Contest.

The cartoons in Tel Aviv were darker.
Crueler.
And as expected, funnier.
No one does self-loathing better than us.

I bring all this up because I am a 1st Amendment Absolutist. I don't agree with many of the European countries and their restrictive laws regarding Holocaust denial or access to Nazi ideology. Hateful speech is more detrimental to those speaking it than it is those hearing it.

Voltaire put it best, "I don't defend what you say, but will defend to the death your right to say it."

You could argue that this is the very cornerstone of American democracy. Not sure however, if you'd get agreement on this from Precedent Shitgibbon.

I'm not even sure he knows of Voltaire.

"Voltaire? That crappy French restaurant on the Upper West Side. Had a steak there once. They didn't even have ketchup. SAD."


Seems the man who criss-crossed the country telling us that political correctness has destroyed America and left the country a disaster, a terrible, horrible disaster, feels he is free to bloviate at will but the rest of us simply are not.

Last week, we not only saw a woman being federally prosecuted for laughing at a congressional hearing, but the chairman of the FCC was instructed to investigate and prosecute Steven Colbert for cracking a politically incorrect joke over the airwaves; suggesting that Trump's mouth was nothing more than Vladmir Putin's cockholster.

By far, my favorite phrasing off 2017.



The hypocrisy here is glaring. Particularly after the infamous pussy-grabbing affair.

Or as my astute wife noted after hurling a string of unmentionable invectives at our favorite frothy, triple-chinned jizztrumpet...

"Come on Donnie, it's just locker room talk."




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