To follow up on yesterday's news announcing the Cleveland Guardians, here's the Babylon Bee with another good one:
Unemployment Up 800% Among Ethnic Mascots
And from Paula Bolyard at PJ Media:
RIP Cleveland
Indians:
Brave New Name Will Honor Traffic Pillars
on a Crumbling Bridge
. . . The name change depresses me. I’m
sad that my grandkids will never know the joy of cheering for the Cleveland
Indians—like their parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents before them.
If they even bother to watch the team, they’ll be cheering for a stupid traffic
pillar. I feel the same way I did when Art Modell up and moved the Cleveland
Brown to Baltimore in 1995, leaving fans with an empty stadium and the rights
to the name. A part of our collective history died that day and the team has
never really recovered. “The Move” joined a long and storied line of
disappointments for Cleveland fans (there’s an
entire Wikipedia page dedicated to the topic). But it’s more than just
the Indians’ name change. Our history is being erased by a small minority of
noisy activists, statue by statue, logo by logo, name by name. They’re
using 1984 as an instruction manual to shove our entire history down
the Memory Hole. Meanwhile, their fellow travelers are inundating our schools
with fake history, heavy on social manipulation and light on education.
I refuse to accept the premise that I’m a racist because I love the Cleveland Indians—the name, the logo, and Chief Wahoo. I’m sick and tired of having my motives called into question at every turn because of my skin color. I will never EVER cheer for the Cleveland Guardians. Instead, I’ll join the many loyal Tribe fans who will no doubt continue to cheer for the Indians. And we’ll wear our black-market Wahoo gear proudly, celebrating the history of the team and the bravery of our Native American brothers and sisters.
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