Opinion

“Battlestar Galactica” is the name of our Russian Blue female feline that we’ve had nearly four years now. When we recently got our new apartment, my husband and I felt awful leaving her alone all day while we went to work. So, a few weeks ago, we decided to bring home a little six-week-old male orange tabby kitten we named “Starfox.” He was going to be her companion while we were away, except Battlestar absolutely hated him. And not only did she hate him, she was so mad at us that she wouldn’t even cuddle with me at bedtime like she normally does. Every chance she got she was giving me the stink eye.

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I called it some time ago. Shopping carts. Shopping carts were once the measure of morality according to the weird world of good-person-policing on the internet. Post after post went around on social media where people declared that leaving a shopping cart in the parking lot instead of putting it in the cart corral tells us all we need to know about you as a person. You’re a horrible human being who probably drowns kittens in your spare time. You see, this policing started small. This moral posturing and blanket condemning of strangers and friends began innocently enough, back before the world exploded with real issues.