'Anarchist' is Shorthand for 'Welfare-Addicted Crybaby Loser'

So students (a.k.a dirtbags) took to the London streets to protest the government’s plans to let colleges raise their tuition. They broke into the Conservative party’s offices, set off flares and started fires – while painting the universal symbol of the jobless, Starbucks hipster (the anarchy sign).

Here’s a rule to remember: someone who still thinks the anarchy symbol is an edgy sign of revolutionary bravado, is also someone who still sponges off mummy and daddy – and yet never pays for a drink. In short, they are babies.

So, yeah – tuition limits are going up to 9,000 pounds – in our money that’s $14,500. Which, as Americans can attest, ain’t much. That’s a used Jetta with 70 thousand miles. Or three hours with Ashley Dupree.

The gov also wants to scrap some subsidies for students, which will definitely cut into their hair gel.

So, how did this happen?

Well, the West is witnessing the continuation of the first real global tantrum – stretching from Greece, to France, to Berkeley, to London. The babies in every country – so used to entitlements – are now being told that the piper must be paid. But because no one taught them the basics of finance – their only reply is “wah, wah,” and “wah.”

Thanks to education fetishists, there’s a belief that there should be no price tag on classes like “Lady Gaga’s Effect on Transgender Truckdrivers,” and that the only limits to your education is your desire to be educated.

Sounds like something you’d see stuck on the bumper of a Prius, but that’s because most political views on entitlements are based on sticker sloganeering: feel good sentimentality unattached to the consequences of cost.

Anyway, they should be rioting over stuff that matters – like the doubling of cheap alcohol to curb binge drinking. I mean, what’s the point of an education if you can’t remember it?

And if you disagree with me, you’re a racist, homophobie, anarchophobe.

Tonight:

Brooke Goldstein!

Ryan Reise!

Father Jonathan Morris!

other stuff, too (hopefully, my mom)