Barbarians at the gate, by Ken Reibel
J.B. Handley, the founder of Generation Rescue, doesn't understand why the AAP won't take him seriously.
"The AAP doesn't listen at all, Larry," Handley told talk show bore and legendary quack enabler Larry King earlier this year. "They never look at recovered children. They never look at recovered children."
It's a sure sign that Handley is on a roll when he repeats himself.
"They rubber stamp every vaccine on the schedule," he continued, as King adjusted his suspenders and tried to remember what AAP stands for. "Dr. Fisher never answered why so few countries have picked up varicella, flu or rotavirus. Meantime, AAP rubber stamps every vaccine, like Gardasil, which is damaging teenaged girls right now, which will likely be pulled from the market very soon. There is the AAP rubber stamp on that vaccine."
These days, the only people taking JB seriously are gullible talk show hosts, and the malcontents who post at AgeOfAutism.com, the on-line water cooler for the anti-vaccine movement. Handley's movement is sinking fast, and he knows it. What he has failed to grasp is the inevitability of it all.
For years, the forces of vaccine rejectionism have been fighting a rear guard action against a growing wave of published science, skeptical judges, and public opinion. First they tried to argue the science, but the universe remained stubbornly mechanistic. Failing that, a phalanx of anti-vaccine lawyers and professional witnesses took their case to the courts, hoping to fool the judges as easily as Handley fools Larry King. They lost spectacularly. Finally, the news and entertainment media herd took notice, resulting in brazen acts of journalistic accuracy from Wired, the Chicago Tribune, MSNBC, the New York Times, and others.
Today, Handley and his followers, or what Jenny McCarthy calls the "angry mob", are under siege, barricaded in Crazy Town. Starved for attention, they subsist on gluten-free wallpaper paste, pigeons, and the occasional lost reporter that wanders into the village. What to do? A meeting of lieutenants was called.
"We need reinforcements," said Kent Heckenlively, the bravest and smartest lieutenant of all. "Our numbers are small, but surely if our message is heard, and unfiltered by science, justice, and popular narrative, we can attract more followers. I've been thinking about this a lot. I've been thinking about this a lot."
He had everyone's attention.
"Take our fight to the ballot box. That way we can bypass all the people who are against us."
"If we can fool Larry King, we can fool Joe Sixpack who doesn't know a T-cell from a D-cup," said Kim Stagliano, and the other's nodded at such a wise observation.
"Ballot initiatives are expensive, time consuming propositions," continued Heckenlively. "We'll need money. Lots of it. We must get word to the other anti-vaccine groups. Lieutenant Blaxill, fetch me a carrier pigeon."
**Obviously, satire has been engaged in.**