Featuring new fiction from Ken Brosky and author authors, as well as occasional political commentary whenever something really important happens. But mostly fiction.
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Someone needs to get over to Patrick McIlheran's cubicle over at the Journal-Sentinel headquarters. It's clear from his recent blog posts that he's clearly suffered some sort of stroke. While detailing an ACLU lawsuit over a young girl's suspension for having piercings, he says this:
"Just imagine how many thirsty high schoolers languish in places where the Sugar Patrol has swept through, popping bubbles and removing vending machines. I could start the Church of Soda. That's not a vending machine; it's a tabernacle of 20-ounce edification, kids. Forget about whether anyone could make any money on the machines; it would be worth it for the culture jamming, if nothing else.
And at the rate food nannies are purging schools of anything kids like eating, there’s plenty of room for sectarian branching, isn’t there?"
Seriously? I really, really hope Patrick has suffered some brain-related injury. How far gone is this man that he's literally defending the soda companies' "right" to sell sodas to school kids?
Hey Patrick: just stick with the cults you currently belong to before starting any new ones. Body modification is far less terrifying than Patrick McIlheran going to a chapel on Sundays and drinking another man's blood that's really alcohol but has somehow been transformed with the help of magic. The ACLU is far less terrifying than seeing a well-off white man write about how hard it is being a well-off white man.