They’re Called Boobs: the Toxic Lies of Erin Brockovich

Here’s an excerpt from my new post at David Horowitz’s NewsReal:

Every year, Catholics renew their baptismal vows and reject, among other “snares of the Devil,” something called “the glamor of evil.” The old dead white guys who penned those vows predated People magazine and Day of the Locust by centuries, but intuited a profound truth about human nature:

We get more of whatever we glamorize.

The facts matter less than the fame; merely projecting an individual — hero or villain — onto the shallow surface of the big screen conveys implicit societal approval and permission, and always with diminishing returns.

So we’re faced with the unedifying spectacle of 21st century gay activists, appointing themselves the Rosa Parks of the blood donor clinic, or who look upon Christian bed & breakfasts as Woolworth’s lunch counters of their very own.

And so the past is cannibalized to feed a self-aggrandizing present and an unlivable future.

The cult of Erin Brockovich represents one of these ill-advised misadventures in selfishness disguised as selflessness, another quest for secular sainthood…

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I can’t believe I neglected to mention the most contagiously “toxic” movie of all…