First, this is how I feel whenever I see a bumper sticker:
Given the existence of car magnets and window clings, anyone who rocks a bumper sticker is a person of limited intellectual means.
Second, this line describes how I want to feel all the time:
Sometimes things get heated and I have to stand up to a charlatan with a spontaneous but devastating career-ending critique like the guy who took out Joe McCarthy at the army communism hearings.
Third, when I was in high school, I was a huge fan of MTV’s The Grind. I will not pretend my motions were pure or that I was a huge fan of ’90s urban dance. I was a teenage boy with limited access to the things I wanted to see the most. But, looking back on it, there was a certain vibe on The Grind that I see now in the sober light of remembrance:
No Beavis and Butthead requiring the viewer to embrace idiocy as a kind of cynicism toward an incomprehensible world.