Five things that need to stop
American culture began its decline with the feminist movement and continues its decay in the form of Miley Cyrus and Twitter. (Together they may very well destroy what’s left of Western Civilization).
There are ways, though, that we as red-blooded patriots can fight against the noxious influences that have besieged our society and get it back on the right path that is apple pie and Jimmy Stewart.
Here are five things (as a start) that need to cease being:
The excessive use of the word “grab”
Or maybe just the word “grab” altogether. It’s very much in vogue these days: “Hey let’s grab a coffee sometime.” “How about getting together to grab lunch next week?” “Let’s grab a taxi and meet him there.” I actually heard a man with my own ears in real life say, “Yeah, let’s grab some time next week to talk about that.” My ears bled.
Not only is the word “grab” an unpleasant sound, it brings with it offensive associations. It implies that the thing being taken into possession is seized forcibly and with haste, making for a rushed, ravenous luncheon, or a frenzied, messy coffee break.
Neither represent geniality.
“Grab” is used these days to invoke a sense of informal laid-backness, (dictionary.com calls it “slang”) whence the death of manners begins. Plus, it reminds me of a Go-Gurt (the “Grab-n-Go Yogurt”) commercial in which children clutch tubes of yogurt with such aggressiveness that slurpy old milk squirts out the top. Gross.
Amusement park culture
Amusement parks are not only a pointless danger to physical well-being, their existence also perpetuates a culture that places high value on cheap thrills.
What’s amusing about putting yourself in harm’s way for the sake of fear? Is the fun part wasting hours of life melting in long lines at the peak of summer with other sweaty people who transmit germs and sticky stuff onto a ride that you get to “enjoy” for 90 seconds, before you go stand in another line for upwards of an hour?
At least when you’re in a fast car danger is for the sake of fun and looking cool. There’s nothing remotely cool about being strapped in a land-floaty with your feet dangling helplessly. Not to mention what such activity does to your hair and dignity. (Someone had the bright idea to capture the face you make in mid-scream on camera for all to see.)
If you’re not for us, you’re against us. If you’re not improving society, you’re impeding it. Coffee stirrers, in particular the plastic kind, might be an impediment to America planted by a young Vladimir Putin during the Cold War to bring down hot drinks and progress.
They look like little straws, hollow in the middle, but they are about as useless for drinking through as they are for stirring with. And no one straw-drinks hot coffee. They are so small that the weight of the current caused by stirring the liquid threatens to carry them away like a floating stick in a great whirlpool, unless you hold onto them firmly with your little pinchers.
And they don’t stir very well. They require concentration and so many passes back and forth that it just becomes tedious. Ever tried to mix sediment from the bottom of a cup with a plastic coffee stirrer? It’s comparable to the efficiency of scraping algae off the floor of an Olympic-sized swimming pool with a stiff spaghetti noodle.
Also they melt.
Another impediment to progress, probably planted by one on our enemies list.
Cashiering oneself through a self-checkout machine takes at least twice as long as letting a cashier check you out. First of all there is a robot woman who talks to you the whole time and who yells out the price of your items for all to hear. (The essence of impropriety.)
Then she usually takes forever to acknowledge that you have placed the item in the bag, and squawks repeatedly that you need assistance. (No, SHE needs assistance!) You look around helplessly and your blood pressure continues to rise as you notice the ex-cashier-turned-self-checkout-attendant is attending to someone else.
Is self-checkout meant to make us feel independent? It always makes me feel needy and frustrated. It’s like going to a car service place and trying to change the oil yourself, only to have the seasoned mechanic stand over you and tell you what to do while you fumble at half speed. Come on.
Not to rain on the parade of sports bars everywhere or anything, but the ceremony of wings is overrated.
You’re basically taking the least desirable part of the chicken, deep-frying it, and making the act of licking sauce off fatty bones (whilst getting it all over your face and hands) an occasion worth celebrating. Not to mention the number of wings that must be consumed in order to make any impact on a famished stomach. They are unhealthy and messy and vulgar, oh my!
To be continued…
Teresa Mull is the managing editor of Human Events.