Language police

I hate to have to do this, because I am really not a humorless prig when it comes to English.  It's pointless to try to impose rules on a huge, pulsating, amorphous entity like our language, scarfing down foreign words and neologisms all day and struggling to process social media scribblings and outright gibberish every night.  I have given up on all kinds of things that offend me.  I accept that "crispy" has replaced "crisp" as an adjective to describe potato chips (I suppose in Britain they're called crispy crisps).  I bade a sorrowful farewell to the subjunctive long ago, when even erudite people began to say "I wish I would have been there."  I barely hear the double verb now -- you know, "The reason is is because...").  I have even stopped wincing at the latest tic where people start sentences with "so."  ("Do you have a plan for addressing climate change?"  "So the Green New Deal...")  Better than "well," I suppose.

But I keep encountering a nasty new acronym, "SNAFUBAR."  Look, I know we live in a time when the old words for disgust are barely adequate, when language can hardly encompass the criminality and stupidity of our minority-elected Executive branch, but that does not mean we have to lose sight of the most eloquent expressions created by some anonymous genius of the Second World War.  I understand the impulse to take "snafu" and add another layer of horrified incredulity, but it already exists.  As explained by the late Paul Fussell, it goes:

SNAFU -- situation normal, all fucked up
FUBAR -- fucked up beyond all recognition
SAPFU -- surpassing all previous fuck-ups

As we endure a time that makes Operation Market Garden look like a triumph, I beg you to remember SAPFU, and to employ it every time another fuck-up surpasses the last one.  And it will.