Dear Richie Incognito…

Dear Richie Incognito.

I realize that today is supposed to be about love, but for the remainder of this post, fuck that, and fuck you.

Fuck you, Richie, for continuing the all-too-problematic trend of casual racism against Asian Americans, as if your athlete status and the “sanctity” — I’m using that word sarcastically here — of the locker room is some sort of protection from consequence. [To all who would defend his right to speak that way, you’re all morons who are exacerbating the stuck-in-the-stone age, neanderthal football culture that pretends human decency is a detriment.]

In truth, because you get paid more money than most of the world to play a sport does not afford you the right to lord it over anyone else, and it doesn’t make you any better of a person. Perhaps nobody told you that. Well, I will now.

Fuck you, Richie, too, for your tremendous ignorance in regards to the collective ethnicities of Asian Americans. Now, glossing over the already obvious fact that stereotypes are a horrendous thing to apply to people all willy-nilly, I’d also like to inform you that the ones you chose all come from DIFFERENT COUNTRIES. As in, North Korea and Vietnam and Japan are all located miles and miles and miles and miles apart from each other, with distinct cultures, traditions and customs.

Read the syllables I’m typing carefully. They. Are. All. Different. Dif-er-ent. Didn’t they teach you that much at Nebraska?

Anyway, my morning break is almost over now, and I’d like to go back to paying attention to football players who aren’t, you know, in the news for being complete dicks to people who did nothing to earn it. Cheers.

Have a shitty Valentine’s Day.

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