Thoughts from the ammo line

We introduced our old friend Ammo Grrrll over the weekend and we think she fits right in. Even so, except for the thumbnail shot that goes back a few years, we will protect her identity from disclosure here on out through the use of her well-chosen pseudonym. We will add only that, before adopting the Ammo Grrrll persona, she had a productive career in stand-up comedy making people laugh for a living. Ammo Grrrll writes:

I live in Arizona (Motto: “We Don’t Feel Like It”), the only state where we don’t do Daylight Savings Time. The last thing on God’s green earth Arizona needs from March to November is another hour of frickin’ sunshine. 120 degrees are quite sufficient, thank you. But, I suspect we do it just to be contrary. And good for us.

We were fixin’ to also be a state where freedom of religion was still legal. Fat chance!

Though it was, in fact, a distortion of the law as written, people got all wrapped around the axle at the possibility that a purveyor of wedding cakes whose religious beliefs prevented him from knowingly selling a cake with 2 grooms on top might be allowed to follow his conscience. But say for the sake of argument that that had been the case.

So what?

Why not let the marketplace sort it out? On one side of the street you could have “Traditional Cakes R Us” with the regulation one little plastic woman in white, one little plastic fella in a tux.

Across the street could be “Whatever Floats Your Boat Cakes” with 2 grooms or 3 brides; or, a stocky bride who used to be a man in miniature Size 12 high heels and a short groom who used to be a woman sporting one of those silly mandatory little goatees that screams, “Look at me! I’m a guy! No, really! See the facial hair?”

One cake option could feature Dennis Rodman alone in his wedding dress; or possibly Dennis Rodman and his new BFF the fat little North Korean dictator.

Anyhow, this would provide the perfect laboratory to test which bakers would prosper and which would fail. Never forget that the baseball teams that were slowest to integrate paid a steep price in the quality of their teams. Jackie Robinson wasn’t there from legislation.

But, no!

The NFL, proud owners of at least one out­there gay player, said, “If we even suspect you might allow merchants to follow their consciences, we won’t let you host a boring, one­sided spectacle in which huge men put bounties on each other and try their damnedest to give each other brain damage sufficient to sue later.”

And so, Big Hotel and Big Restaurant Chains and Big Parking Gougers, and Big Gentlemen’s Clubs (patronized by a definition of “gentlemen” with which I am not familiar) put extreme pressure on the governor and she caved. Whoa! The Left sure does love them some One Percenters when it suits them.

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