If you have burned a single calorie analyzing the teenage misdeeds or minor character flaws of Trayvon Martin in an effort to justify the homicide committed by George Zimmerman, then you are a small-minded, racist asshole guilty of the worst kind of victim blaming.
I remember girls like this. They were the perky ones from Sunday School you had to hang out with because your moms knew each other.
They’d tell on you for smoking cigarettes and feel righteous about it, even after you covered for them while they were getting fingerblasted through Jordache jeans in the church basement during the youth group sleepover.
It’s okay, though. Jesus forgave them. They were true believers, the kind of candy-headed twits who would shed genuine tears whenever some tie-dyed youth minister told that insufferably retarded story about footprints in the sand.
I never knew quite what to say around them, because every conversation led back to Jesus, praise the lord and hallelujah! It was awkward. They weren’t bad people, just blindly earnest and completely full of shit.
I learned quickly that their ignorance really was bliss. There was no saving them from being saved. It was better just to nod and smile and dream of the day I could finally move the fuck out to Los Angeles.
That’s all well and good, because I get to watch this ridiculous YouTube clip from a thousand miles away, safely ensconced in the land of godless liberals. I’m so glad I escaped that kind of life. What a holy nightmare.
No hard feelings, though. I wish the all Haleys and Camilles of the world continued bliss, and short of that, I hope the abortion that statistically one of them will end up getting is safe, legal, and covered by insurance.