I'm a fat, despairing, middle-aged Jew with poor eyesight and bad nerves.
While this is all fine and good, whenever crowds of the great unwashed gather together, for their own amusement or some other entirely worthwhile aim, one cannot but worry about the potentially disastrous interplay of personal hygiene and communicable disease.
This particular instance is especially troubling because those so gathered are not merely speaking, but shouting, in Arabic, a language which, even when whispered, is violently guttural, and whose simple utterance, in all dialects, produces hazardous quantities of germ-carrying phlegm.
One must also hasten to note that frustration and anger can savagely tax even the most robust immune systems, and Arabs, whose emotional equilibrium can be justly characterized as, at best, even on good days, perilously brittle, are uniquely equipped to transform an occasion of political protest into a powerful and efficient spittle-fueled generator of one pandemic or another.
I should hope with all that's left in me of hope that these Egyptians haven't cast reasonable disease prophylaxis by the wayside as they march and shout their way to an uncertain future, and are busily handing out to one another small cakes of antibacterial soap and high-quality surgical masks while baying for the blood of their corrupt and tone-deaf politicians.
To Mr. Solmer's credit, he indeed has a point. And a chilling one, at that.
For far too long, even disgracefully so, America's self-styled "elites" have strenuously forestalled anything approaching broad-based democratic access to alternative poultry venues in the Catskills and at other locales yet farther afield. (Appalachia leaps most readily to mind, likely because its very name recalls the term "appalling.")
Around and about the mere concept of "alternative poultry," these in-joke fancying sophisticates have constructed and jealously maintained an anti-egalitarian Berlin Wall, fiercely defended with a lethal arsenal chock-a-block with withering disdain and fetid scorn.
This disgraceful arrangement is hardly one America's Founding Forefathers should have showered with their hard-won approval, even on those days when they weren't beset by the multitude of responsibilities attendant to the impregnation of slaves.
It is therefore well within the time-honored tradition of Yankee outrage that Mr. Solmer's exception-taking finds a comfortable, if modest, home, and sets about stoking a warming fire of righteous indignation in its ample hearth, steadfastly using the hyperbolic amusements of America's own anti-American "elites" as the kindling which shall serve to feed the patriotic conflagration that will consume them, thereby trailblazing a clear path whereby all U.S. citizens ought secure safe conduct to alternative poultry, fictional or otherwise.
Let us not dally, then, in an utterly notional Cretan Labyrinth roiling with the reddest of herrings, and instead set our sights on the comparatively higher aim of denying gratification to those who would laugh at, much less celebrate, journalistic parody.
Thank you, Mr. Solmer, for having the "class" to put us to rights, once and forever.