Tag Archives: umbrage

Hyppo and Critter: My Guy, Your Guy

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Breeder Outrage

Artistic rendering of "stabby."

Artistic rendering of “stabby.”

Note: Hippie Cahier proactively assisted with a single instance of grammar in this post. The remainder of errors are, as always, solely my own. -Ed.

A teacher quipped on Twitter one day that her students made her feel “stabby.” Outraged parents, obviously, well-provisioned with torches and pitchforks, demanded that her head be removed and braised like an oxtail and served on a silver platter as a delicate amuse-bouche at the next school board meeting. Now that is justice deliciously served!

Yeah, that sounds like an appropriately-measured response. Because, yeah, I’m so sure they’re all such wonderful people and perfect parents to boot.

Fact: On average, Americans shop six hours a week and spend only 40 minutes playing with their children.

Source: PBS.org – Affluenza

In the world of social media umbrage, judgement can be swift and final. Make an ill-advised joke before boarding an airplane and by the time you land your employer may have already knee-jerk terminated your career. That must have been a really good joke. (I’m not attempting to evaluate the social content of the joke here.)

Sometimes the target of ire may really “deserve” what they get. I guess in some cases the downside of not waiting for actual facts can backfire. Oops. Too bad, so sad. At least you got your 15 minutes of notoriety, right?

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Ignited We Crammed

us-v-themIt came to light that a business had taken a hardline position on a hot potato political issue. The story went viral in the social media. Soon, something that had been around for a while, perhaps even years, was on the top of Google News and the blogosphere leapt into the fray and whipped things up to a nice frothy frenzy.

The reaction was fierce but equally split. About fifty percent of the response from vocal net denizens was to grab pitchforks and torches and take up cries of, “Boycott! Boycott!” The remaining half, however, rallied round, filling caldrons with hot burning lead and chanting, “Defense! Defense!” and holding impromptu bake sales to support their newfound friends.

Alas, it wasn’t merely a rousing and violent game of football.

Meanwhile, a lone solitary figure stood far to the side waving a flag that read, “United We Stand.”

Methinks it must be our manifest destiny to be as divided as second generation stem cells in a petri dish. Disgusting.
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