Poor Ben Shapiro. Like many a young right winger before him, he was rewarded for his juvenile parroting of the Republican party line (conservatives love to have a few token Young Republicans around in an effort to make it appear that the Republican Party isn’t exclusively the province of old, rich farts and middle-aged rich-fart-wannabees).
When Ben got older and was no longer in demand as a novelty act, it should have been a time for a reassessment for him. After all, he had left home, had a chance to see a bit of real life, and was smart enough that he should have been able to try thinking for himself for a change. He had the chance to grow up and come up with his own personal philosophy. (We still admire young Kyle William, who was an even younger Rushkinder columnist than Ben, but who, when he reached his later teens, decided he no longer believed a lot of the stuff that he had been applauded for spouting, and gave up punditing).
Instead, Ben just became mean spirited and crabby, and his writings became Dr. Mike-esque in their lack of real thought, and their hostility disguised as “humor.” Ben continues to use his column to parrot what he thinks his Republican elders would approve of, but it’s pretty obvious that the wide-eyed young Ben who actually cared about things other than his own stock options died somewhere along the way.
So, let’s have Ben Shapiro, the carefully-raised scion of an upper-middle-class Reagan-supporting family (who is also Ben, the Harvard Law grad), lecture us on elitism.
Ben Shapiro : You Know You’re An Elitist If…
This election cycle has exposed an enormous divide across the country. It’s not the divide between black and white; it’s not even the divide between liberals and conservatives. It’s the divide between elitists and the rest of us.
There’s nothing like a good “us vs. them” dichotomy as a way to begin an honest inquiry into the state of our society.
Elitism is a state of mind. Not everyone in New York and Los Angeles is afflicted by it, and not everyone from Jackson, Mississippi is free from it. Elitism is the feeling of superiority enjoyed by certain people based on their income, education, and nuanced value system.
Um, so this is where Ben confesses to a terminal case of elitism, and begs our forgiveness?
Elitism carries with it a strong hint of “sophisticated” Europeanism, as well as a large helping of atheistic skepticism.
Oh, so only LIBERALS can be elitists, because only they are sometimes skeptical of stuff, and know where Europe is.
Worried that you’re an elitist?
Sure, Ben, it’s one of my biggest concerns as I clip grocery coupons, shop at the thrift store for my winter wardrobe (sweat shirts, mostly — you can get nice ones, perfect for Hockey Moms, for $3 each), and eat my generic macaroni and cheese.
Here’s how you can tell if you are.You’re an elitist if you love Brokeback Mountain, but think that John Wayne movies are jingoistic expressions of outdated American machismo.
So, open homoeroticism is elitist, but cloaking it in the trapping of war make it just fine. Good to know.
You’re an elitist if you worry that Sarah Palin hunts moose, but aren’t worried that Barack Obama wants to meet personally with dictators.
Killing things = regular folks. Attempting to mediate peace = elitist.
Oh, and here’s one that Ben accidentally left out: “You’re an elitist if you question having the state of Alaska pay for first class travel and 4-star hotels for its governor’s children (and you’re even worse if you wonder why it’s acceptable for her to later ammend the expense reports to say that the kiddies were on official business). You also are an elitist if you find any ethical problems with $150,000 in campaign money being spent at places like Neiman Marcus for a VP nominee’s clothes, since the items will be donated to charity after Sarah is done wearing them, after all.”
You’re an elitist if you think that only bitter people unhappy with their lives cling to the Bible.You’re an elitist if you quote the Book of Matthew to justify socialism, cite the Book of John to defend Bill Clinton, write off the Book of Romans as “obscure,” or deride the Old Testament as a collection of antiquated messages about shellfish and animal sacrifices.
And you’re a “rest of us” if you use the Bible to justify homophobia, but don’t think any of the parts about helping orphans and widows apply to you.
You’re an elitist if you love watching soccer and you’re not a recent immigrant.
REAL Americans should watch football, damn it! And if you’re an immigrant who has been here for more than a year or two, you should damn well give up your interest in soccer and become a real football loving American, or we’re going to suspect you’re here illegally!
You’re an elitist if you know what arugula is but don’t know who Jimmie Johnson is.
Okay, you do have me there, Ben. I guess I know more about green, leafy vegetables than I do about Johnsons. (No innuendo intended, probably.)
Anyway, there’s a lot more like this (basically, anything that Ben doesn’t like is elitist). but let’s just cut to the chase:
You’re an elitist if you declare that no one’s patriotism ought to be challenged – unless they’re questioning why they should pay higher taxes.[...]You’re an elitist if your name is Barack Obama. Chances are that you’re an elitist if you support him and you aren’t being hired by ACORN to do so, too.
Okay, I challenge Ben’s patriotism. Trying to suppress the two-party system just doesn’t seem American to me.
Posted by s.z. on Thursday, October 23rd, 2008 at 5:31 pm.
44 Responses to “If You Can Read This, You May be an Elitist”
The VP nominees clothes will be donated to charity after Sarah is done wearing them, after all. Based on Palin’s expense reports, I have no doubt that charity will begin and end at Palin’s home.
“You’re a “rest of us” if you use the Bible to justify homophobia, but don’t think any of the parts about helping orphans and widows apply to you.”
My theory about such Bible-thumpers is that they read the Old Testament straight through but when they got to the “begats” section, they gave up and skipped to the grand finale (all the Armageddon stuff)!
My theory about such Bible-thumpers is that they read the Old Testament straight through but when they got to the “begats” section, they gave up and skipped to the grand finale (all the Armageddon stuff)!
you’re an elitist if you support him
given that it appears more than half the country supports him, haven’t we – at this point – rendered “elitism” meaningless?
given that it appears more than half the country supports him, haven’t we – at this point – rendered “elitism” meaningless?
Based on Palin’s expense reports, I have no doubt that charity will begin and end at Palin’s home.
Remember how the famous plane-listed-on-eBay ended up in the hands of a Palin campaign contributor?
Remember how the famous plane-listed-on-eBay ended up in the hands of a Palin campaign contributor?
You’re an elitist if you know what arugula is?
The the people working for minimum wage at the grocery store produce department are elitists?
Wow. Ben Shapiro is stupider than a sack of rocks.
(Yes and the sky is blue, water is wet and pizza is tasty, etc.)
The the people working for minimum wage at the grocery store produce department are elitists?
Wow. Ben Shapiro is stupider than a sack of rocks.
(Yes and the sky is blue, water is wet and pizza is tasty, etc.)
deride the Old Testament as a collection of antiquated messages about shellfish and animal sacrifices.
When in fact it is a collection of very timely messages… about shellfish and animal sacrifices. And diddling the handmaidens.
When in fact it is a collection of very timely messages… about shellfish and animal sacrifices. And diddling the handmaidens.
What a miserable little shit this guy is. God, if he’s this much of an ass hole now, just imagine what he’ll be like in his fifties.
So, by Ben’s calculations anyone who isn’t ignorant and miserable, who doesn’t think in the most shallow and simpleminded way possible, anybody who has anything approaching taste is an elitist. Seems like Ben and co. hate the Heartland folk far more than any arugula latte swilling fag Democrat.
So, by Ben’s calculations anyone who isn’t ignorant and miserable, who doesn’t think in the most shallow and simpleminded way possible, anybody who has anything approaching taste is an elitist. Seems like Ben and co. hate the Heartland folk far more than any arugula latte swilling fag Democrat.
Wow, this kind of stuff (Republicans like NASCAR, Democrats like soccer) was pretty stale back in 2004; now, it’s downright mangy. I wonder if Ben has paid any attention to the Michele Bachmann saga; Americans are pretty sick of this shit.
It reads like a parody. You sure he’s not mocking his readers again?
You’re assuming that Ben has readers beyond those who mock him, TM.
Ah, good point.
Y’know, now I stop to think about it, it’s been a joy to watch Benji grow from ersatz teen brainiac to college witling right through to premature senility and rumored joblessness. And to realize, in the bargain, that he had six or seven years there to simply come to his senses and figure out how to behave like a normal person, and chose, instead, to be the only person in America, probably apart from his parents, who believed the Ben Shapiro Myth. Or cared.
Look at that drivel. It’s the product of about as fine an education one’s parents can buy in this country. “Knowing who Jimmie Johnson is” is the best he can do?
Look at that drivel. It’s the product of about as fine an education one’s parents can buy in this country. “Knowing who Jimmie Johnson is” is the best he can do?
I agree, it is wearing thin, that whole, “Common folk want to kill eachother, have no critical thinking skills and will vote against their own best interests.” meme.
Its beginning to run sour. Although I have to admit that even though I put out an Obama sign along with the whole gamut of the democratic ticket for the state, on the lawn of my delapitated victorian, I dislike hunting, my favorite employee is gay (and I invited her into my house and offered her coffee and food once), I think about what the writer meant, no one uptown has come to my door to invite me to their elitist dinner parties.
I should call Ben to find out what I’m doing wrong.
Its beginning to run sour. Although I have to admit that even though I put out an Obama sign along with the whole gamut of the democratic ticket for the state, on the lawn of my delapitated victorian, I dislike hunting, my favorite employee is gay (and I invited her into my house and offered her coffee and food once), I think about what the writer meant, no one uptown has come to my door to invite me to their elitist dinner parties.
I should call Ben to find out what I’m doing wrong.
You’re an elitist if you love watching soccer and you’re not a recent immigrant.
So, soccer moms are supposed to take their kids TO soccer and watch ‘em play, but you can’t, like, enjoy it? I’m confused…
So, soccer moms are supposed to take their kids TO soccer and watch ‘em play, but you can’t, like, enjoy it? I’m confused…
Visualize, if you dare, Ben & Dr. Mike getting drunk together and talking about teh “elites”.
I tried, Kathy, seriously. But I got about as far as the gay sex, and normally I dig that kind of thing, but, I had to stop there.
Ben, sweetie…I AM and elitist and damned proud of it.
And you are still stupid.
And you are still stupid.
who the hell is jimmie johnson? oh crap, i just gave myself away
So being a rich, Ivy-league-schooled brat who blithers about the glories of classical art doesn’t make you an elitist, huh, so long as you pay lip-service to Imaginary Bubba? Got it!
(ISTR that CS Lewis did a takedown of this sort of faux-populist nekulturny posing back fifty years ago in Screwtape Proposes A Toast, and Sinclair Lewis did it even earlier in It Can’t Happen Here. Nothing new &c.)
(ISTR that CS Lewis did a takedown of this sort of faux-populist nekulturny posing back fifty years ago in Screwtape Proposes A Toast, and Sinclair Lewis did it even earlier in It Can’t Happen Here. Nothing new &c.)
Perhaps the Virgin Ben thought he would be getting laid after getting married. The reality has made him even more bitter.
No, I think it was the uncontrollable laughter and hearing her say, “THAT’S the best you can do?” made him bitter.
He left a few off the list:
If you know a polo player, you’re probably an elitist.
If you went to an Ivy League school without an affirmative action scholarship, you’re probably an elitist.
If you drink martinis wearing a suit and a tie, you’re probably an elitist.
If you’ve ever smoked a Cuban cigar, you’re probably an elitist.
If you know anyone who has a chauffeur, you’re probably an elitist.
If you went to a prep school, you’re probably an elitist.
If you live in a gated community, or were raised in one, you’re probably an elitist.
If your dad (or mom, to be politically correct) made most of her income last year from stock options that the board of directors voted him, you’re probably an elitist.
If you ride in the corporate jet, you’re probably an elitist.
If you have a golden parachute, you’re probably an elitist.
If you have a portfolio that includes more than a Charles Schwab account and a few CDs, you’re probably an elitist.
If you own an original Rembrandt, you’re probably an elitist.
If your idea of a “drink after work with the guys” includes a stop at Harry’s Bar on Hanover Square, or any Morton’s restaurant, you’re probably an elitist.
If you’ve ever played croquet or lawn bowling and HAD TO WEAR WHITE, you’re probably an elitist.
If you’ve ever been to a cotillion, a debutante ball, or a “coming out party” for a girl of teenage years (not the “out of the closet” kind), you’re probably an elitist.
If you have ANY friend who is proudly called Muffy, Biff, or Dexter, you’re probably an elitist.
If your friends include more than one person who uses two initials in addition to a first and last name (“C. Russell M. Taibi”), you’re probably an elitist.
If your household help…well, you’re probably an elitist right there, but…if you’re household help addresses you by your professional title, you’re probably an elitist.
If you’ve voted Republican for the last four Presidential cycles because, goshdarn, Barry Goldwater said you should always vote Republican, you’re probably an elitist.
If you’ve never set foot in a store in Harlem, despite the fact that your commuter train stops there daily, you’re probably an elitist.
If you can discuss the finer distinctions between Chardonnay and Sauvignon Blanc, you’re probably an elitist.
If your make of car has two names (e.g. Rolls Royce), you’re probably an elitist.
If your house has more bathrooms than there are residents, you’re probably an elitist.
If you can name the last three squash world champions or have attended the world championship at least once, you’re probably an elitist.
If you can tie your own bowtie, you’re probably an elitist.
I’m sure I’m missing a few.
If you know a polo player, you’re probably an elitist.
If you went to an Ivy League school without an affirmative action scholarship, you’re probably an elitist.
If you drink martinis wearing a suit and a tie, you’re probably an elitist.
If you’ve ever smoked a Cuban cigar, you’re probably an elitist.
If you know anyone who has a chauffeur, you’re probably an elitist.
If you went to a prep school, you’re probably an elitist.
If you live in a gated community, or were raised in one, you’re probably an elitist.
If your dad (or mom, to be politically correct) made most of her income last year from stock options that the board of directors voted him, you’re probably an elitist.
If you ride in the corporate jet, you’re probably an elitist.
If you have a golden parachute, you’re probably an elitist.
If you have a portfolio that includes more than a Charles Schwab account and a few CDs, you’re probably an elitist.
If you own an original Rembrandt, you’re probably an elitist.
If your idea of a “drink after work with the guys” includes a stop at Harry’s Bar on Hanover Square, or any Morton’s restaurant, you’re probably an elitist.
If you’ve ever played croquet or lawn bowling and HAD TO WEAR WHITE, you’re probably an elitist.
If you’ve ever been to a cotillion, a debutante ball, or a “coming out party” for a girl of teenage years (not the “out of the closet” kind), you’re probably an elitist.
If you have ANY friend who is proudly called Muffy, Biff, or Dexter, you’re probably an elitist.
If your friends include more than one person who uses two initials in addition to a first and last name (“C. Russell M. Taibi”), you’re probably an elitist.
If your household help…well, you’re probably an elitist right there, but…if you’re household help addresses you by your professional title, you’re probably an elitist.
If you’ve voted Republican for the last four Presidential cycles because, goshdarn, Barry Goldwater said you should always vote Republican, you’re probably an elitist.
If you’ve never set foot in a store in Harlem, despite the fact that your commuter train stops there daily, you’re probably an elitist.
If you can discuss the finer distinctions between Chardonnay and Sauvignon Blanc, you’re probably an elitist.
If your make of car has two names (e.g. Rolls Royce), you’re probably an elitist.
If your house has more bathrooms than there are residents, you’re probably an elitist.
If you can name the last three squash world champions or have attended the world championship at least once, you’re probably an elitist.
If you can tie your own bowtie, you’re probably an elitist.
I’m sure I’m missing a few.
Oh wait, one more occured to me:
If you’re in your twenties, are male, attended an Ivy League college and proudly claim you never got laid, even by a townie, YOU’RE AN ELITIST!
If you’re in your twenties, are male, attended an Ivy League college and proudly claim you never got laid, even by a townie, YOU’RE AN ELITIST!
Good to see you sitting up, taking nourishment, and writing again, s.z.
I’ve missed you.
Speaking of which, a couple of people wondered where I’d gone in a recent post (the birthday greeting to AC), so here’s the long story short:
Shortly after 6pm on January 31 of this year, I was apparently hit by a car while bicycling home along Santa Monica Blvd from dinner with friends at the Salvadoran Restaurant on St. Andrews. I say “apparently” because I have no memory whatsoever of the event. One minute I’m bicycling home, the next thing I know it’s four hours later and I’m regaining consciousness on a gurney at Cedars-Sinai. Serious.
Rang my chimes good, and I still have difficulty with balance and stuff– usually have to grab a wall or something when I get out of bed in the morning.
The left clavicle was shattered to bits, and I’m amazed that it somehow managed to re-knit itself, in whatever shape it decided to come up with, and you’d have to see it to believe it it. It’s not the ramrod-straight right clavicle, that’s for sure. Some broken ribs and bruises, but little bleeding, thankfully, as I would have bled to death in the time spent lying there in the street while some kind soul called the Paramedics. The Paras actually cut my clothes off of me in the ambulance, ruining a perfectly good pair of jeans and black denim jacket.
I spent a few days in the hospital, undergoing every test the staff could think of to bill my insurance company for (total bill from them was thirty large), and then was out of work for a few months. It was all very, very painful, and it still hurts, especially since I knocked off the steady dosage of Vicodin. Oh well.
So that’s why I’ve been sort of quiet lately.
Scott, please try to restrain the impulse to ask what kind of of fool would bike Santa Monica Blvd. I already know the answer: me. I’ve known that for forty years.
Typing is, well, hard work. But you, s.z., and Scott, my friends, are most definitely worth it.
And thanks Bill S and AC for your kind words as well.
Somewhat back in the pocket,
I’ve missed you.
Speaking of which, a couple of people wondered where I’d gone in a recent post (the birthday greeting to AC), so here’s the long story short:
Shortly after 6pm on January 31 of this year, I was apparently hit by a car while bicycling home along Santa Monica Blvd from dinner with friends at the Salvadoran Restaurant on St. Andrews. I say “apparently” because I have no memory whatsoever of the event. One minute I’m bicycling home, the next thing I know it’s four hours later and I’m regaining consciousness on a gurney at Cedars-Sinai. Serious.
Rang my chimes good, and I still have difficulty with balance and stuff– usually have to grab a wall or something when I get out of bed in the morning.
The left clavicle was shattered to bits, and I’m amazed that it somehow managed to re-knit itself, in whatever shape it decided to come up with, and you’d have to see it to believe it it. It’s not the ramrod-straight right clavicle, that’s for sure. Some broken ribs and bruises, but little bleeding, thankfully, as I would have bled to death in the time spent lying there in the street while some kind soul called the Paramedics. The Paras actually cut my clothes off of me in the ambulance, ruining a perfectly good pair of jeans and black denim jacket.
I spent a few days in the hospital, undergoing every test the staff could think of to bill my insurance company for (total bill from them was thirty large), and then was out of work for a few months. It was all very, very painful, and it still hurts, especially since I knocked off the steady dosage of Vicodin. Oh well.
So that’s why I’ve been sort of quiet lately.
Scott, please try to restrain the impulse to ask what kind of of fool would bike Santa Monica Blvd. I already know the answer: me. I’ve known that for forty years.
Typing is, well, hard work. But you, s.z., and Scott, my friends, are most definitely worth it.
And thanks Bill S and AC for your kind words as well.
Somewhat back in the pocket,
And on to Ben:
This is boilerplate. Fucker’s phoning it in, for God’s sake.
Heard he got married. I assume he finally got laid as a result.
So I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. No angst in the pants.
This is boilerplate. Fucker’s phoning it in, for God’s sake.
Heard he got married. I assume he finally got laid as a result.
So I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. No angst in the pants.
who the hell is jimmie johnson? oh crap, i just gave myself away
S’okay; you still probably know as much about NASCAR as Ben Shapiro does.
I’m from the motorsports capital of the universe. I like motorsports. I even watch NASCAR on occasion, not that it really qualifies; if you start talkin’ that Authentic NASCAR shit around here it won’t be long before somebody offers to help you pull your head out of your ass.
And Benji’s from California, birthplace of drag racing, and a state with its own stock car and open wheel traditions. You’d think if he was so all-fuckin’ real folks an’ all he might reference his own traditions instead of that Counterfeit Confederacy crap.
S’okay; you still probably know as much about NASCAR as Ben Shapiro does.
I’m from the motorsports capital of the universe. I like motorsports. I even watch NASCAR on occasion, not that it really qualifies; if you start talkin’ that Authentic NASCAR shit around here it won’t be long before somebody offers to help you pull your head out of your ass.
And Benji’s from California, birthplace of drag racing, and a state with its own stock car and open wheel traditions. You’d think if he was so all-fuckin’ real folks an’ all he might reference his own traditions instead of that Counterfeit Confederacy crap.
[First sentence redacted at request of Chris V.] Anyway, in that sort of situation it’s usually the pupusas that send one to the hospital.
Very sorry to hear about the accident, Chris (I assume it was an accident and not some right-blogger in a rage about one of your comments, because CSI: Hollywood wasn’t able to discover any conclusive kerning on the scene), and very happy to see you back. You’ve been missed.
Very sorry to hear about the accident, Chris (I assume it was an accident and not some right-blogger in a rage about one of your comments, because CSI: Hollywood wasn’t able to discover any conclusive kerning on the scene), and very happy to see you back. You’ve been missed.
Doghouse, little Ben is so homophobic he probably thinks “drag-racing” involves high heels and a should purse.
shouldER purse. Damn typos.
Why must I always notice things AFTER I hit submit?
Why must I always notice things AFTER I hit submit?
“Best wishes” to Chris.
“Shut up, you annoying little fucktard” to Ben.
“Shut up, you annoying little fucktard” to Ben.
In her interview with NBC’s Brian Williams, Sarah Palin explained who the elite are.
WILLIAMS: Who is a member of the elite?
PALIN: Oh, I guess just people who think that they’re better’n anyone else, and John McCain an’ I are so committed to servin’ every American, hard-workin’, middle-class Americans who are so desirin’ of this economy gettin’ put back on the right track, an’ winnin’ these wars, an’ America’s starting to reach her potential, an’ that is opportunity and hope provided everyone equally. So anyone who thinks that they are–I guess–better’n anyone else, that’s– that’s my definition of elitism.
There you have it. The elite is anyone who thinks they are better than anyone else–like those who think other parts of the country are less authentically American than theirs is, or who believe that people who don’t go to their church are less moral than they are, or who disparage certain occupations, such as community organizers, as not really doing work. I’m glad she cleared that up for us.
WILLIAMS: Who is a member of the elite?
PALIN: Oh, I guess just people who think that they’re better’n anyone else, and John McCain an’ I are so committed to servin’ every American, hard-workin’, middle-class Americans who are so desirin’ of this economy gettin’ put back on the right track, an’ winnin’ these wars, an’ America’s starting to reach her potential, an’ that is opportunity and hope provided everyone equally. So anyone who thinks that they are–I guess–better’n anyone else, that’s– that’s my definition of elitism.
There you have it. The elite is anyone who thinks they are better than anyone else–like those who think other parts of the country are less authentically American than theirs is, or who believe that people who don’t go to their church are less moral than they are, or who disparage certain occupations, such as community organizers, as not really doing work. I’m glad she cleared that up for us.
“counterfeit Confederacy”
See a lot of that up north here Riley.
See a lot of that up north here Riley.
“This election cycle has exposed an enormous divide across the country. It’s not the divide between black and white; it’s not even the divide between liberals and conservatives. It’s the divide between elitists and the rest of us.”
Strictly speaking, this quote is accurate. However, the actual elitists are the members of the wealthy elites and the paid shills who spout ideology that serves their interests.
Strictly speaking, this quote is accurate. However, the actual elitists are the members of the wealthy elites and the paid shills who spout ideology that serves their interests.
Gee, Chris, I guess I was either typing when you posted or I’d walked away from it. Best wishes for your continued recovery.
And yeah, there’s a lot of Conterfeit Confederacy around, kate, but nobody markets it quite like the guys with the cars with the headlight decals on ‘em.
And yeah, there’s a lot of Conterfeit Confederacy around, kate, but nobody markets it quite like the guys with the cars with the headlight decals on ‘em.
Headlight decals? You got me on that one Riley, guess that’s an Indiana elitist thing? Seems like that might be rough for driving at night, but then elitists don’t drive at night; they have some poor shlep drive them around to the parties for ten bucks an hour.
People like Shapiro spend their entire lives drawing divides between “us” and “them”. Its essential as their existence relies entirely on differentiation from the masses. They can’t help doing it even when they attempt to appear common.
I’d like to see that non-elitist spend the afternoon splitting wood or doing a roof with me. We’ll see who the elitist is.
People like Shapiro spend their entire lives drawing divides between “us” and “them”. Its essential as their existence relies entirely on differentiation from the masses. They can’t help doing it even when they attempt to appear common.
I’d like to see that non-elitist spend the afternoon splitting wood or doing a roof with me. We’ll see who the elitist is.
actor212: How about this one…
-If your nanny spends more time with your kids than you, you’re an elitist.
-If your nanny spends more time with your kids than you, you’re an elitist.
Oh jeez, Chris, as a biker myself in a big city on busy streets, that story terrified me! I hope things work out OK for you, and you’re back up in the saddle one day.
Yaoi, good one! Maybe I’d take it one step further say “If your kids speak better Guatemalan from your nanny than English, you’re an elitist.”
Yaoi, good one! Maybe I’d take it one step further say “If your kids speak better Guatemalan from your nanny than English, you’re an elitist.”
If you can tie your own bowtie, you’re probably an elitist.
damn, I was doing ok until that one (not that I’ve worn a tie of any kind in ages)
damn, I was doing ok until that one (not that I’ve worn a tie of any kind in ages)
“If your nanny spends more time with your kids than you, you’re an elitist.”
Why would you want your nanny to spend time with you instead of your kids?
(slaps forehead.)
Ooohhhh….
Why would you want your nanny to spend time with you instead of your kids?
(slaps forehead.)
Ooohhhh….
No, I think it was the uncontrollable laughter and hearing her say, “THAT’S the best you can do?” made him bitter.You’re an elitist if you can please another human sexually…
Preznit,
It’s OK. I have to fess up to about five or six of those myself, but then I’m the first to admit I’m an elitist.
It’s OK. I have to fess up to about five or six of those myself, but then I’m the first to admit I’m an elitist.
I just know this is going to brand me irrevocably as an effete, toffee-nosed elitist, but…
Fuck You Very Much, Ben “Wingnut Socialism Welfare Beneficiary” Shapiro.
Fuck You Very Much, Ben “Wingnut Socialism Welfare Beneficiary” Shapiro.
Bill, it’s because your nanny is HAWT. Like Fran Drescher.
As to all those poor and needy folks in the Bible, this nice piece of Bible-porn graphically describing the sin of Sodom tells you all you really need to know about Ben’s crowd:
This was the sin of your sister Sodom: She and her daughters were proud and had plenty of food and lived in great comfort, but she did not help the poor and needy
–Ezekiel 16:49
(New Century Version. The elegant King James text makes it sound as if the prosperity itself were objectionable; I heard from a learned person who knows the original that that emphasis is not accurate. )
This was the sin of your sister Sodom: She and her daughters were proud and had plenty of food and lived in great comfort, but she did not help the poor and needy
–Ezekiel 16:49
(New Century Version. The elegant King James text makes it sound as if the prosperity itself were objectionable; I heard from a learned person who knows the original that that emphasis is not accurate. )
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