I think Caliban was asking the other day what an orthodox Catholic was. Here’s a perfect example, methinks, an Indiana legislator who is covering my former hometown with glory:
INDIANAPOLIS – A Fort Wayne lawmaker has refused to sign on to a resolution celebrating the 100th anniversary of the Girl Scouts, calling the group a “radicalized organization” that supports abortion and promotes the “homosexual lifestyle.”
Rep. Bob Morris, R-Fort Wayne, sent a letter to his fellow House Republicans on Saturday explaining why he would be the only member in the House not to endorse the nonbinding resolution.
He said he did some web-based research and found allegations that the Girl Scouts are a tactical arm of Planned Parenthood, allows transgender females to join and encourages sex.
Follow the link to his Indiana House site, and learn that Morris has been married 12 years and has six children. That sounds about right — one every two years, spaced via extended breastfeeding and natural family planning, which leaves Dad lots of time to scan the internets, where this entire story appears to teeter on a single source, i.e. a Washington Times column. Which is of course of indisputable integrity.
I can’t stand it. I hope the blowback — and let me tell you, there will be blowback, especially at cookie time, and the Limberlost Council is an active, high-quality group — singes this idiot’s eyebrows off. I hope there is not even a hint of apology from anything or anyone associated with the Girl Scouts. Because if this nonsense isn’t nipped in the bud, you just ask for more of it.
Related: A fairly smart piece on the sexual counter-revolution, which lots of people aren’t even aware exists.
Eh, this nutter leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Let’s move on to Downton Abbey. What did I think of the finale? Eh. This is what I think. The gap between the first and second season was as yawning, in the end, as the one between the first episode of “The Killing” and the last. I keep trying to find that light place where I can let the bad part slide away and the good part stick, but I think my patience is paper thin. By the final moments, I didn’t give a fat rat’s gluteus if Matthew and Mary would get together, because if they didn’t, some other guy with bandages wrapped around his face would lurch onstage and set off another crisis that would be cleared up in 20 minutes or so.
“Mad Men” it is not. But then, neither is “Mad Men.”
At least I can bid the drawing room farewell for another year or so. “Eastbound and Down” is my new Sunday-night destination.
Which is another post. I’m interested in how far you can push the boundaries of frat-boy grossness. If it’s just right, it’s funny. But just wrong is so, so close.
So, do we have any more bloggage today?
A ghastly shooting in Detroit over the weekend.
The president’s “radical Islamic policies.” Yup.
With that, let’s take a bite out of Tuesday, eh?