There’s a new term you’re probably going to be hearing a lot of (if you haven’t been already): South Park conservatives.
The idea of South Park conservatives is that they’re, well, conservatives who like the vulgar cartoon show South Park, which skewers politically correct nonsense on a regular basis.
The reason you’ll be hearing a lot of the term is that some folks have been arguing that there are an awful lot of South Park conservatives, and since they’re younger (on average) that most voters, they represent the wave of the future.
HEREZA STORY FROM TECH CENTRAL ON SOUTH PARK CONSERVATIVES (CHT: Southern Appeal.)
The saga of South Park conservatives is also the focus of a new book by author Brian C. Anderson. He writes about them in
THIS BOOK ADVERTISEMENT THINLY DISGUISED AS NEWS ANALYSIS.
EXCERPTS:
For decades, with few exceptions, a liberal sensibility dominated American humor. From Lenny Bruce to Norman Lear’s "All in the Family" to today’s "Will & Grace," the laughs came at the expense of fuddy-duddy conservatives and bourgeois conventions.
But new media have allowed a new kind of cutting-edge humor to emerge, one whose primary target is the Left.
The anarchic, vulgar archetype of this anti-liberal spirit, which gives my book its title, is Comedy Central’s brilliant, and wildly popular, cartoon series "South Park," depicting the adventures of four foulmouthed fourth-graders.
"South Park" sometimes shows a socially conservative streak — one episode actually mocks pro-choice extremism, when Cartman’s mother, Liane, decides to abort her son — then in the third grade.
She goes to the "Unplanned Parenthood" clinic. "I want to have an abortion," she tells the receptionist.
"If you don’t feel fit to raise a child, then abortion probably is the answer," the receptionist tells her. "Do you know the actual time of conception?"
Liane: "About—eight years ago."
"I see," the receptionist says, "so the fetus is?"
Eight years old, Liane says, matter-of-factly.
"Ms. Cartman, uh eight years old is a little late to be considering abortion," says the receptionist.
Liane registers surprise, and the receptionist elaborates: "Yes — this is what we would refer to as the ‘fortieth trimester.’ "
"But I just don’t think I’m a fit mother," Liane laments.
"Wuh? But we prefer to abort babies a little earlier on," the receptionist notes. "In fact, there’s a law against abortions after the second trimester."
Later, Liane discovers, to her horror, that the word "abortion" means termination of life — and not the same thing as "adoption," as she had mistakenly thought — she abandons her plans.
