She has something to say about AA and the Whatcott decision. Enjoy.
If you’ve never been to an old-school AA meeting, imagine Vince Lombardi’s locker room if he’d been coaching Pilgrims with Tourette’s: a spartan, Quaker-meeting setup, all bootstrapping, no bullshit. A newcomer dumb enough to whine about their “feelings” gets ordered to scrub out the coffee urn by a gruff “old timer.”
That’s not what I slunk into in 1992, by which time then-faddish PBS fixture John “Finding Your Inner Child” Bradshaw had accidentally turned Alcoholics Anonymous into a New Age unicorn-and-rainbows therapeutic weep-fest that would’ve disgusted Greatest Generation founders Bill W. and Dr. Bob, who probably kept their fedoras on in the gutter.
Some meetings even served decaf.
Brace yourself for “otherkin-phobia” and the fines and firings that will come with it.
“There’s a fair dollop of therapeutic chatter,” one notes, in last week’s ruling by Canada’s Supreme Court declaring that mass homosexual “self-fulfillment” trumps one crazy Christian’s freedom of speech, even when he’s just quoting the Bible. (Especially then.)
Who’s to say some “cripple” is cheating the insurance company just because you saw him shooting baskets in Bermuda? He’s really transabled, you bigot.
If you don’t want your life ruined by the powers that be, you’ll cultivate the cowardice to know the difference and keep your mouth shut.
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