Charles de Gaulle once asked "how can you govern a country in which there are 246 kinds of cheese?" Well, the answer is, you can't. Up until now I was a firm supporter of Stilton, though as a life-long Democrat and a cornflake traditionalist I occasionly took a nibble at brie. I ignored the the consant hammering of supporters of other types of cheese, the Limburgerists with their mock-hair plugs, the Gruyere-supporters who cannot seem to get over the fact that their cheese has never been much more popular in the polls than toe fungus, and of course the pseudo-Nadarite feta favorers with their continual litany of claims of their cheese being the first to support an independant Curdish state, regardless of the whey we get there.
But until now, I have been able to ignore the nagging suspicion that all was not right with my candidate. After all, Stilton was everything that the current Cheddar is not; strong, tangy, resolute, veined in a patriotic blue against the white of the body, in short the cheese that America has been waiting for since the battle of Monterey in the Spanish-American War showed us that we didn't know Jack about foreign policy.
But recent remarks, both by Stilton and by fellow supporters of Stilton have made it abundantly clear; I can not longer support a cheese which indulges in elbow poking, nose-wrenching, or power-scenting. Even though I have whined about the lack of other cheeses, and especially congress to play hard-cheese, I cannot accept such actual behavior from real-life diary products.
And so, I will sadly have to proclaim myself cheeseless--- this site and this party have turned me from a cheese-eating lover of all that is bovine to a lactose intolerant skim milk consumer of American Cheese slices, individually wrapped, pristine in their flavorless plasticity. American Cheese, so called because if we named it after any other nation, it would be an act of war.
I am sorry, I know that there are many sincere supporters of Stilton, but the rancor, bitterness and sour-milk attitude of too many here fermented in my soul long enough.