Dr. James Dobson is ticking off all the right people again. For the last two nights, I have watched (on national news!) the controversy between Dobson and SpongeBob SquarePants unfold. Well, actually, the controversy is not unfolding there, it is simply being perpetuated from one monomanaical vantage point. Those who want to find out the other side can find it here.
As many know, one of my names for these blinkered folk is Intolerista. Watching all this, I am tempted to try to coin another word, so that when our great-grandchildren are being told the story of this epic battle for the heart and soul of America, they can ask, “Papa, tell us again the story of how the Crankies were defeated!” But Intolerista still describes it better.
The Intoleristas believe in “tolerance, or else.” The Intoleristas propose that we all hold hands, lift them to the sky, and sing, “We are family.” If we decline, for whatever reason, we find ourselves savaged. No wonder that for believing Christians, the word tolerance has become thinly veiled code word for, what else, intolerance. George Orwell needs to call his office.
Brown-shirted tolerance. Jack-booted tolerance. Iron glove tolerance. Shriek at you for disagreeing tolerance. Intolerant tolerance. Piece of work tolerance. Get back on your meds tolerance. Glazed eye tolerance. Pitched like the castrati tolerance. Snivelbeak tolerance. A lot of folks need to come to the recognition that, through its close association with them, the word tolerance no longer holds the same charm for millions of Americans. How much petty nastiness has to slosh out of that bucket before we are allowed to say what’s in there?