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Apr 17 2018

The New Yorker Denounces “Creepy Infiltration” of Chick-fil-A into NYC

Christian-owned Chick-fil-A has been opening branches in New Gomorrah itself, and the leftist snobs at The New Yorker are not happy about it:

New York has taken to Chick-fil-A. One of the Manhattan locations estimates that it sells a sandwich every six seconds, and the company has announced plans to open as many as a dozen more storefronts in the city. And yet the brand’s arrival here feels like an infiltration, in no small part because of its pervasive Christian traditionalism. Its headquarters, in Atlanta, are adorned with Bible verses and a statue of Jesus washing a disciple’s feet. Its stores close on Sundays. Its C.E.O., Dan Cathy, has been accused of bigotry for using the company’s charitable wing to fund anti-gay causes, including groups that oppose same-sex marriage.

Defending the sanctity of marriage from defilement — a position taken only a few years ago by Barack Obama and Hillary Clinton — is now regarded as a thought crime for which there must be zero tolerance.

The New Yorker does not like Chick-fil-A’s emphasis on the word “community,” which “suggests an ulterior motive” — namely, to convert people to Christianity by feeding them chicken sandwiches. It also doesn’t like the cows in Chick-fil-A advertising.

It’s impossible to overstate the role of the Cows—in official communiqués, they always take a capital “C”—that are displayed in framed portraits throughout the Fulton Street location. If the restaurant is a megachurch, the Cows are its ultimate evangelists. Since their introduction in the mid-nineties—when they began advising Atlanta motorists to “eat mor chikin”—they’ve remained one of the most popular, and most morbid, advertising campaigns in fast-food history, crucial to Chick-fil-A’s corporate culture.

This wicked corporate culture oppresses chickens on behalf of the coopted cows.

It’s worth asking why Americans fell in love with an ad in which one farm animal begs us to kill another in its place. Most restaurants take pains to distance themselves from the brutalities of the slaughterhouse; Chick-fil-A invites us to go along with the Cows’ Schadenfreude.

If only liberal elitists could acquire a sense of humor, they might not find regular Americans and their culture so incomprehensible.

As for the good Chick-fil-A does,

Defenders of Chick-fil-A point out that the company donates thousands of pounds of food to New York Common Pantry, and that its expansion creates jobs. The more fatalistic will add that hypocrisy is baked, or fried, into every consumer experience—that unbridled corporate power makes it impossible to bring your wallet in line with your morals. Still, there’s something especially distasteful about Chick-fil-A, which has sought to portray itself as better than other fast food: cleaner, gentler, and more ethical, with its poultry slightly healthier than the mystery meat of burgers. Its politics, its décor, and its commercial-evangelical messaging are inflected with this suburban piety.

It isn’t just the food that is good (at least by fast food standards). The company itself is good. You can’t expect The New Yorker to approve.

On a tip from Jester.

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