The internet is full of instant experts. When a subject goes viral, all the social media know-it-alls pounce on it like a cat on a wounded bird. Since only a few of them know a damn thing about the matter at hand, they tend to nibble on the bird and leave its headless corpse on the virtual welcome mat. Enough feline imagery, time to get to the point. One thing people *love* to do is to psychoanalyze and speculate about people’s motives and thoughts. I usually try NOT to do that myself, but there’s always a loophole, exception or whatever the hell you want to call it. In short, if you can’t beat ’em, join ’em.
I’ve noticed a pattern in the news this summer of fake heroics, posturing, and general dick waving. It usually involves white males lamenting changes in the world they neither like nor understand. It’s been going on for years but it has accelerated during the Obama years, especially after the same-sex marriage decision last month. We’ve had court clerks refusing to marry gay couples, posturing from florists, bakers, and wedding venue folks about not wanting to make money because they’d get too near TEH GAY. Horrors.
More recently, some Bama bubbas claim that they were fired because they were “displaying their heritage” on their pickup trucks. In English, that means they fly the rebel flag or have bumper stickers of the Confederate battle flag affixed to their vehicle. There it is again. I cannot seem to stay away from the subject. I have no idea if their claims are true or not but they’re displaying advanced symptoms of what I like to call CRACKER MARTYR syndrome. And, yes, I did just make that up but it’s a common malady among dudes wearing wife beaters, Red Man tobacco caps, and more tattoos than you can shake a stick at. Why you’d want to do such thing beats the hell out of me…
One does not have to be an actual cracker to suffer from Cracker Martyr syndrome. It has afflicted some city folk who are obsessed with terrorist attacks and freak out at the prospect of mosques in their neighborhood. For example, Pamela Geller suffers from Cracker Martyr syndrome even though she’s not a cracker, just a crazy woman with a persecution complex. Now that I think of it, since she’s a New Yorker, she may well be a Ritz cracker…
Hallinan said it would be a hard policy to enforce.
“It’s a pretty unenforceable action right? I can’t, by law, ask each and every person who comes through my doors what they’re religious background is,” Hallinan told CNN. “But the ATF expressly gives me the right and the authority to deny service to anybody who I feel is a threat for any reason.”
As a Floridian, Hallinan qualifies as a bona fide cracker. He’s also an idiot for publicly bragging about this “policy,” which is why I originally intended to crown him malaka of the week. I put on my fake shrink hat instead and diagnosed him with Cracker Martyr syndrome. He’s also a piss poor businessman, all that should matter to any retailer is the color of the buyer’s money not their ethnicity or religion. He may be in trouble with the Feds for violating the 1964 Civil Rights Act, which doesn’t have an exemption for malakatude:
Critics have argued the ban will ultimately be deemed illegal, but Hallinan says he made the decision in an effort to fight back against political correctness.
“We are in battle, patriots, but not only with Islamic extremism,” he said. “We’re also in battle against extreme political correctness that threatens our lives, because if we can’t call evil, evil for fear of offending people, then we can’t really defeat our enemies.”
According to WFLA, the Department of Justice said they will be investigating the store for possible civil rights violations connected to its “Muslim-free” policy.
Hallinan’s case of Cracker Martyr syndrome is about to explode after he got up on his hind legs to brag about his policy. Exhibitionism is clearly a symptom of this malakatudinous malady as is speaking in cliches. The next time one of these bozos whines about “political correctness,” I’m going beat my head on the desk and scream like Della Street demanding to be fed. And that’s loud, Della does not fool around, y’all.
Cracker Martyr syndrome has been around forever but it has been a nameless malady until now. So, the next time you hear some dumbass go on about “taking the country back” and how it’s “heritage, not hate,” you know what’s wrong with them.
I have no solution for this depressingly common problem, but I’m considering hanging up a shingle as an amateur shrink. If so, I’d charge more than Lucy van Pelt but less than Dr. Melfi. And to the literal minded out there it’s time to quote David Letterman and say, “It’s just a joke.” But Cracker Martyr syndrome is not.