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When Your Costume for the Campus ‘Kill the Jews’ Party Is a Keffiyeh – HotAir

Holy crap, this is getting to be so blessedly entertaining amid the cacophony raised by soulless, entitled, over-indulged twits with their sickening anti-Semitic death obsessions and risible, uncontrollable – and uncontrolled – campus antics.

What is?

The pushback. The brilliant, non-violent, scathing, derisive scorn being heaped on these self-absorbed societal warts. The infallible logic being used to verbally batter the Hamasholes – not into insensibility, as they’re already there – but into impotence. Sputtering impotence.

Or into an explosive frustration that only proves who the violence originates with and in whose supposed cause there is no room for anything but violence, having been birthed and bathed in it.

The shining beginning was the Georgia frat boys. Not a finger raised against those flinging obscenities, water bottles, and projectiles at them. Most of their hands, to be fair, were filled with Old Glory, keeping her off the ground. But those who had free fingers had them on cameras, recording the moment.

It was a good start. It caught on. From “USA!” chants…

…Antifa losing it because they can’t do pushups…

…and everyday folks trying to do their jobs deciding that they would just do their job. 

Pretty much regular Americans are over the protesters. 

Considering what Hamas did to light off this war, you’d think that college-educated protestors screaming about oppression and genocide would first have checked the definition of “genocide” to make sure it carried the weight in their screeching they obviously meant it to.

I guess they were in a hurry or too riled up to, like, bother with that.

Then there’s the scarf thing. Associated with murderous butchers as it is, how has it come to be so appealing to these sociopathic LARPers?

Nevertheless, all the cool kids are swathing themselves in the latest authentic suicide cult scarves – sourced from Amazon, Etsy, or the arm of their grandmother’s couch. 

Then they wrap the fabric around their pinheads with a dash of Jew-hating joie de vivre and head out to terrorize someone on their way to a Conflict Resolutions Studies lecture. 

The young wymmin protestors in this costume assume a sultry, seductive, sincere expression, heavy on the eye kohl. They have a picture in their empty brain casing of themselves as Chani, from the latest Dune installment. 

GAH-RROOWWLLL

Never know when you’ll get lucky among the stinky, freaky Fremen on the Green, girlfriends. Free, free Palestine, and some inhibitions, too!

Good luck finding a “man” in that crowd. I’ve seen a fair amount of Paul wanna-be’s – wispy, effeminate, raging egotists – and some hefty Harkonnen thuglets with greasy hair, but a Leto, Duncan Idaho, or Gurney Halleck?

HAH

Then again, when you’re so desperate to be one of the in-crowd, there isn’t a lot of thinking that goes into it, especially if you know you look dope. 

Or like one.

Here’s where the latest round of devastating mockery comes in.

It’s so crushing – if the recipient isn’t already in therapy as she should be? 

She soon will be.

Shots fired in a language she understands because white, college-age progressive women invented it.

She speaks it, she lives it, and she has just been savaged with it…by a white man.

I can’t imagine what a moment like that does to the white, progressive college-age woman whose every utterance has been celebrated and obeyed for her entire life.

Call them out for the hypocritical frauds they are. They’ll gasp and gape like larpy carp out of water in shock at your temerity in confronting them to begin with and that they have no answer.

Could it possibly make them almost human again?

Let’s not get ahead of ourselves with wishful thinking. 

But I wouldn’t say “no” definitively.

This is the way.



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