This is a dead cow’s dismembered body parts. Eat it./Licensed Adobe stock, nd700.
Gustatory Greetings, Tasty Traditionalists!
It’s been far, far, far too long–did I mention far?–since we’ve met for dinner but not really, because it’s just within this article that we’re meeting, and thank god, because I found most people, and certainly my simpleminded Alt-political brethren and “sistren” less palatable than the uncooked meat pictured above. Nevertheless, I do have to feign a modicum of liking for you, otherwise, the author-reader relationship starts to break down. Normally, such meta-thoughts on writing and reading are lost on conservative media personalities, but I’m not your average brain-dead fool writing for a right-wing Web destination. I’m different because…well, there’s…see, now…well, I get the author-reader relationship thing from before, darn it!
Anywho, in political science circles and the amateurish dreck produced for non-academic audiences inspired by the work of members of them, there is a type of citizens of a polity called “political stakeholders.” These are the people that, in any given societal situation that stands to be affected by a certain public policy. It’s often used to contrast with those cooks stirring a policy pot whose involvement in shaping policy is something else besides direct effect, such as special interest groups, corporate lobbyists, ideologues convinced of the righteousness of foisting their spiritual beliefs on others, and so on and so forth and so messed up. The word “stakeholders” might have derived from either of the two meanings of one of its constituent words,”stake,” if you ask me. A wooden spike could be used to lay claim to something, such as a plot of land, as when Columbus “discovered” the New World that was already here, or the life of a culturally vampiric person like Sean Hannity, who will eventually have one driven into his figurative heart when his dolt audience-members realize he derive succor from sucking the metaphorical blood of entire U.S. citizenry.
In either case, a homonym of “stake’ is “steak,” the food, so let’s discuss some digestive details on that slab of flesh!
Related: See what happened at a BTS training seminar for White House Administration officials.
Formal and F—-d Up
Oh, what’s this? It seems to be some sort of invitation. It’s not every day one gets a scented invitation in the mail, this one emitting that metallic smell that blood has due to its iron content. Wow–raised script! And it says, “Spread Your Right Wings (SYRW) requests the pleasure of your company at a white tie steak tartare dinner.” Oh, wait–due to a previously induced food coma after a high-carb meal, I forgot I sent out this invitation, to invite you, my dear readers, to sup on this exquisite dish with me.
Steak Tartare is the first steak meal I suggest to you. It’s named for the Tartare Sauce served with it, which in turn is named the Tatars, a Central Asian ethnic group. It’s raw beef. Yes, readers, this is somehow considered a delicacy. And no, I don’t know why. But given that you’re, like me, members of the contemporary right wing of the political spectrum, it’s unlikely that you’ll ask too many questions, let’s be honest. If something is a done thing, you’ll done do it!
In the gay classic, Mommie Dearest, Christina indicates to Joan that she doesn’t want to eat her steak because “it’s got all this red juice when I push on it.” Joan’s simple, confident reply is: “Then don’t push on it.” As you prepare to chow down on your Steak Tartare, I urge, similarly, not to push on it.
Meat of Darkness
Joseph Conrad penned the literary canonical classic Heart of Darkness about a man’s journey up the Congo River. My next victual suggestion for you is a well-done steak, a classic piece of Americana. This is a hunk of cow flesh seared almost beyond recognition. I know, I know–what fun is a steak dinner if you can’t pretend you’re dining on the muscle and sinew of the minority groups the Alt-right movement sprung up to delegitimize out of existence? It still tastes good, though, so you’re non-allegiance to the Alt-ideal of gaining nourishment from the suffering of those not in our self-styled tribe can be forgiven. Also, if you pair this burned-to-a-crisp slab of meat with potatoes and a wayward mini-carrot or two, it really becomes that favorite of members of the American instantiation of Western patriarchy, “meat and potatoes.” So, chow down!
Through the Heart
A heart is this funny little organ that pumps oxygenated blood to the body, located on the left side of the chest in most humans–but not in us conservatives. As it’s also been posited to be the metaphorical home to the human capacities for love, empathy, caring, kindness, and other such useless emotions, the general consensus is that right-wingers don’t have them. And since it’s just us righties here, we can openly talk of how we, indeed, don’t have this organ. This is why we laugh when vampire killers think they can go to the old stand-by of driving a wooden stake through our hearts to kill us, thereby stopping us from feasting on the muscle of disadvantaged groups.
And: 3 tech products to help you stay silent in the face of continuing Trumpian horror.
Get a wooden stake, whittle it into a point, then slather it in ketchup. This symbolizes the stake that liberals wish to drive through the hearts of us conservatives. Then taunt them, whether they’re in front of you at the moment or not, by slowly and with great flourish licking the ketchup off the stake in the opposite direction of the grain of the wood. Liberals will cringe at this, given the likelihood that you’ll get huge, difficult-to-remove splinters lodged in your tongue and lips. But those are concerns for people who are still human–we stopped being members of that sentient mammalian species when we elected a lunatic to be the nation’s president.
Having a Say In Policy–And Pizza
As always, I’ve managed to work up quite an appetite as a result of discussing all this food-related fancy with you. I once asked the staff at a local Pizza Hut how they avoided gorging themselves on pizza at all times. They said that after a while, they got sick of pizza and pretty much lost their taste for it. A person who doesn’t like pizza–sounds like a monster with no heart or soul to speak of, to me! And I’m waiting for an analagous situation to occur for me. I write about food, and have for days upon days now, yet I still find myself hungry pretty much all the time. Sometimes I find myself hungry while eating! I often think, “I must have that parasite that lives in your stomach and consumes all the calories you ingest.” However, this cannot be, as I continue to gain weight and also have no malnutritive disorders. Oh, woe is me! I feel sad and stressed. You know what helps me with said feelings? Eating! I’ll be off to do that.
Until next week, dear SYRW readers: bon appetit, cheers, and salut.
Also:: Political in-activism 101 for the Alt-right.
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