Ignorance is neither bliss nor amusing. At least it shouldn't be.

There's a guest column in the Tribune today.

That’s a lot of lettuce in the House, by Sylvia Griggs.

I always believed the Democratic Party was progressive, but some recent news has me puzzled. Voters put a woman in charge of the House, Rep. Nancy Pelosi (D-Calif.), and she heads to the kitchen — the so-called traditional environment for a woman. Mother Pelosi seems to be saying, I know what’s good for you, and you’re damn well going to like it!

As part of her “Green the Capitol” Initiative, the House is getting a kitchen and food service makeover.

The columnist's argument goes something like this: It isn't progressive to eat food with names the columnist can't pronounce, especially if these names have "international" origins; presumably, politicians should eat peanut butter 'n' nanner sandwiches instead, just like the all-American, dead Elvis; and if there are any concepts in cooking and cuisine to which the columnist hasn't yet been exposed -- sustainable fishing, for instance -- these are to be derided as something unfamiliar to her, and thus worthy of trashing.

Imagine how much more edifying the piece would have been had we been informed as to what these names and concepts mean, and how they may or may not be important in the larger scheme of things.

What am I missing? How does one's own ignorance about a topic qualify as knee-slapping humor?

Given that one of the Tribune's other guest columnists apparently fancies herself as some bizarre sort of Ann Coulter clone, reading the local newspaper of late is reminiscent of Pink Floyd's magnum opus, The Wall.

Hello, hello, hello ...
Is there anybody in there?