Count me as a third ... and remember, my mother was a cripple (*), from birth: I know, as well as any able-bodied person can, what it is like to be crippled in body.
I also despise "handicap parking" -- which is just one more special privileges/victimization lottery for the well-off.
(I'm aware of this Frankie Boyle, and normally I'd agree that he's a boil upon the ass of humanity; but in this case, at least as reported by James Delingpole, he's right.)
(*) In case it was missed, let me emphasize my deliberate use of such an "offensive" word: 'cripple', as in, "My mother was a cripple" ... and I am not ashamed to call it as it was.
edit:
When my mother was growing up in the 1930s, it was common to treat crippled children as though they were 'retards' (*gasp* did he really go there?) and shuttle them off to the hell-holes that were that time's version of "special-needs education". These days, the fashionable 'we' treat them as pets (**) and patronize them. Of course, they also patronize their own children, so in a half-emply/half-full kind of way, perhaps patronizing can be seen as progress.
(**) I especially have in mind that disgusting manner that most women adopt when talking
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