Sometimes, when I start losing faith in humanity, I cheer myself up by perusing the latest casualty reports that result from people taking selfies at inopportune moments. It’s not that I wish harm on anybody. But so long as the Lords of Karma hold that someone needs to get kicked in the shorts, such a fate might as well befall those who truly deserve it. If you take the Darwinian long view, what could be considered a tragic loss for Mom and Dad and Sis (when Buddy takes an Instagram snap of himself licking the third rail at the Acela station), is probably a net gain for the gene pool. The Idiocracy already suffers enough from overpopulation.
Sadly, not too many people lose their lives by taking pictures of themselves with fish. But after reading the piece you reference—cringingly titled “Lots of Fish On the Screen”—I unwittingly found myself pulling for Poseidon to finish them off with his trident. I don’t begrudge the New York Times writing about something they seemingly know little about (fishing). But they should be more respectful of anglers/readers who don’t try to infringe on their own areas of expertise (championing transgender bathrooms at open-border crossings, for instance).
The piece in question is a celebration of social media and fishing. Two tastes that have no business on the same plate. It’s like celebrating your pepper-crusted Wagyu beef in black-truffle vinaigrette, covered in Skittles.
LINK (via: Weekly Standard)