I’m sorry to have made a scene on this crowded train car, but did you expect me to say nothing after your child made such an obsequious remark as “sharing is good”?
Sure, I may have brought your prepubescent son to tears in the heat of our exchange of wits, but he must learn that when you enter the marketplace of ideas (the rush hour Q train), one will not remain unchallenged. I am simply exercising my right as an American citizen to engage in meaningful conversation about the future of our country.
Remember when we were kids? An open discourse of ideas was encouraged. Each day after school, my father would be waiting for me to engage in rigorous mental sparring. Our age difference didn’t matter; his only advantage was all the free time he had to foment an argument due to his being suspended with pay from his job.
Leave it to the left to indoctrinate children into Marxist principles like kindness and generosity. My son — yes, the pale, anxious-looking boy wearing a Brooks Brothers performance polo shirt over there — has been taught to always question the status quo. Although this education has put him at odds with liberal ideologues like his kindergarten teacher, he is sure to grow into a red-blooded, insufferable man over time.
I can’t say the same about your waifish charge. I pity little Howard Zinn here; he is sure to grow into a closed-minded, intolerant member of the radical left. I asked him a simple question: “Who do you think will pay for the free cookies at lunch,” and he just sulked behind you like a frightened child and asked you, “Why does that man smell like aftershave and woodchips?” Typical liberal misdirection!
Oh well, this is my stop, we’ve arrived at my uncredited, for-profit university. Methinks that my classroom may be the only place left in America where one can speak his mind and talk over any woman misfortunate enough not to have read my RateMyProfessor page before enrolling.
Good day to you!