And I mean that in a gender-ist way.It was bad enough when Philly decided to overlook Michael Vick's complete lack of remorse, ethics, a moral code, and any semblance as a normal, not-a-psychopath human being and draft him as QB for the Eagles. Because Lord knows that the employment of someone who can throw a football all manly-man style is just way more important than the objections of a bunch of whiny, left-wing hippie animal rights activists pointing out the insane fact that a sociopath who TORTURED AND KILLED DOGS WITH HIS OWN TWO HANDS is being held up as a hero to the people of Philadelphia.
A guy who, after doing all that, pled "Not Guilty" to animal cruelty.
I mean, really. I don't know that I expect any better from the NFL (and I certainly don't expect better from Vick, who before getting caught torturing dogs was wantonly infecting women with herpes), but I did somehow expect more from Philly. Philly was our nation's capital - briefly, but still. And I've been to Philly. I ate cheesesteaks and got lost in traffic circles and saw the Liberty Bell overall had a positive experience there. But really, Philly? Michael Vick? Ew.
Having fostered one of his dogs, perhaps I'm a bit closer to that particular issue than most. And yet I feel that anyone with a shred of human decency can, if they choose, understand the objections of those of us who know far too much about what Vick did to those dogs. The fighting ring, as horrible as that certainly was, was the least of it. Strangling dogs with your own two hands, slamming them into the ground until they die, laughing while outmatched dogs are shredded in the ring, hanging them, attaching them to car batteries and throwing them into a pool filled with shallow water to ensure they dogs suffer a certain, slow, painful death - even on paper these are deeds that most would associate with "sociopath," and the fact that this douchebag is out there throwing a football to the cheers of local fans is just freaking un.be.lieve.able.(But of course it is the NFL, home to mother-rapers and father-stabbers and father-rapers and, perhaps, even the occasional litterbug.)
And I was almost ready to forgive Philly, sort of, or just shelve the grudge against and entire city and blame football. Which is to say that I was ready to root against the underdogs in the World Series. I mean, I was trying... right up until I found out that the subway workers of Philly were going on strike in the middle of the World Series because they didn't feel their health plan provided enough Viagra.
I know, right?
Apparently the 10 pills of monthly Viagra covered by the SEPTA health plan isn't enough for these cheesesteak-eating male transit workers to keep themselves... um, up. The 10 pills, incidentally, are enough for 20 nights of sex. And that's without the (admittedly hilarious-sounding) side effects of erections lasting longer than 4 hours.
So while millions of unemployed Americans worried about rent and having no health insurance, and the working class of Philly spent hours commuting because these SEPTA union bosses chose the dire issue of their monthly allotment of happypants pills, of all things, as a primary reason to hold a transit strike, I re-thought my attempt to forgive Philadelphia for Michael Vick.
Perhaps it shouldn't surprise me that Philly caved on the strike, though neither side is discussing specifics. Neither side is discussing the fact that an ex-SEPTA employee was caught illegally trying to obtain large quantities of Viagra to presumably sell on the black market a few years ago, either.
Congratulations, Philly. You've made me a huge Yanks fan.
