Pardon my French.
It was kind of pathetically funny when Neal Rowland did it. But actually slapping the moniker “freedom fries” on the US House of Representatives cafeteria menus is—well, it’s upholding a long-standing tradition of moronic House grandstanding, but it’s still pathetic. Disappointing, even. —But no longer funny.
Don’t take the weasel’s way out: don’t try to argue that they’re really Belgian fries, and the only reason we call them “french fries” is because of the technique of frenching, or slicing in long, thin strips (more properly referred to as “julienne”), thereby proving the protest is not only moronic, but misguided; Snopes makes it pretty clear that we call it frenching because that’s what you do to make French fried potatoes, and not vicey-versey. —Just go out, have some lunch, and order french fries, loud and clear, by golly.
Speaking of lunch—
Commenting is closed for this article.
I prefer Freedom Fries to a trade war.
Let them start a trade war. Let these benighted crackerjesusfreakidiots learn a fucking object lesson about the global econony, and how it does not give a shit about either their so-called savior nor their flag.
But they won't learn. They'll bring the US economy down around themselves, and they'll be too busy reading their copies of Left Behind while listening to Lee Greenwood to notice, even understand through their patriotic haze. Their constituents won't get it either, they'll just listen to Pat Buchanan and Michael Savage and blame their layoffs and forclosures on "jews, feminists and liberals".
Hey, where can I get a "freedom tickler"?