Michelle Malkin with an amusing analysis of the behavior of the brunch disruptors.

"America’s social-justice movement has reached a critical turning point. The Left’s bravest young warriors for change have turned . . . back to 1989 and borrowed costumes from Janet Jackson’s “Rhythm Nation” music video.

Clad in black-ops black from head to toe with fists held high, stylin’ members of the so-called “Black Brunch” brigade look like they’re ready to break into some old-school New Jack Swing dance moves. And . . . five, six, seven, eight!

But seriously, all you hate-mongering, racist oppressors: You must banish your colonialist, imperialist, and patriarchal impulses to mock. The “comrades” (yes, they really call themselves that) who don the solidarity-enhancing Black Brunch costume are sending a revolutionary, transformative message: This is war!

On your omelettes.

This past weekend, an organizing manual obtained and published by the Weasel Zippers blog (which was subsequently knocked offline for 12 hours by retaliatory activists) explained the Black Brunch agenda. Only those who are “black and of the African diaspora” received the guide. Black Brunch, they were told, is “a form of resistance and a direct action tactic” to “reclaim our humanity and right to unapologetically hold space in public.”

By “holding space in public,” they mean storming into a private business and screaming in your face while you’re spending your hard-earned money as other hardworking people try to make a living serving up a nice meal.

The farce, of course, is that this impudent “resistance” movement deliberately chooses marshmallow-soft targets where they will encounter absolutely no resistance of any kind to their trespassing.

Black Brunchers didn’t stomp their way into truck stops, police cafeterias, or military bases. They targeted privileged liberal enclaves in Oakland, San Francisco, Los Angeles, Baltimore, and New York City over the past month to raise the consciousness of unsuspecting midmorning diners. The Black Brunch bunch earned their badges of courage by barging into coffee shops, blocking lines at hummus snack stands, and even grandstanding at an Apple computer store (huh?) where sympathetic hipsters and pliant employees simply rolled over.

Note: The only clubs the enemy enslavers wielded were their club sandwiches. The only sticks in sight were cinnamon cocoa stirrers."

[more] http://www.nationalreview.com/article/39...michelle-malkin