More Rudeness Friday:
The Rude Pundit survived his flight without the expected anal probing, but arrived much later than expected. Relieved, sphincter a little looser, he has decided to take a mulligan at this late hour of the end of the abomination of a year we've just had, and he is going out to drink, a lot. One last 2003 thought: Do you think Osama Bin Laden's plan all along was to drive the United States into a frenzy of military presence, abandonment of Constitutional protections, and a budget devastated by a Bush in office? Do you think he was that calculating, that he knew exactly what the neocons would do, the fear that they would instill in Americans and the West? Who the fuck knows. But we now live our lives as a forced march, spurred by Osama, directed by Bush, enforced by Ashcroft. Fuck 'em all.
Friday: Howard Dean Will Fuck Your Shit Up
Monday: What You Do to the Least of These, Part 3 - the Poor
Go have a fucking New Year's. That's what the Rude Pundit is doing.
Tuesday, December 30, 2003
And Even the Evil Must Sometimes Act Like They Live in America:
John Ashcroft has recused himself from the Plame name blame investigation. The Rude Pundit is a cynic - he wants to believe this is because something big has been discovered and it has forced Ashcroft to give up any (obvious) control of the investigation. But the Rude Pundit also thinks that the whole investigation is a whitewash and Ashcroft recusing himself is actually a manipulative move to make the whitewash look as if it is a valid conclusion. Although, in the back of his mind, the Rude Pundit dreamily wonders, Could it be Rove is going down? Could it be Rove, who once worked for Ashcroft, who is going to do a perp walk? Oh, to live in such an America once again. Oh, to dream that it was ever thus.
John Ashcroft has recused himself from the Plame name blame investigation. The Rude Pundit is a cynic - he wants to believe this is because something big has been discovered and it has forced Ashcroft to give up any (obvious) control of the investigation. But the Rude Pundit also thinks that the whole investigation is a whitewash and Ashcroft recusing himself is actually a manipulative move to make the whitewash look as if it is a valid conclusion. Although, in the back of his mind, the Rude Pundit dreamily wonders, Could it be Rove is going down? Could it be Rove, who once worked for Ashcroft, who is going to do a perp walk? Oh, to live in such an America once again. Oh, to dream that it was ever thus.
Why Ann Coulter Is Still a Cunt, Part 6:
Because she's so fucking stupid that she doesn't get it when the Onion mocks her. On her shitty, useless website, Coulter is apparently so thrilled to death that she was mentioned in the comedy newspaper that she links to it at the top of the page. The article? One of the Onion's "What Do You Think?" articles, this one on conservative teens. One of the pretend responses is "I don't understand my son. He's always locked in the bathroom with that damned Ann Coulter book." Now, Coulter's link means one of two things, both disturbing: 1)She doesn't get the masturbation reference and thinks that said boy is reading her "book" or 2) That she likes the idea of a teenage boy jacking off to her rants against liberalism. Of course, the joke really is that Coulter presents herself as a fuckable hottie (with an Adam's apple and man hands, but, anyways) in a tight black dress and that teenage boys, thinking anything from underwear ads to old pictures of youthful granny are woody-inspiring, would actually not give a rat's ass about her politics, and, like Bill Maher probably does, would tell her shut the fuck up and let them spew a load of jizz on her flat tits and then wrap her long legs around them twice and let her giant kooz devour their teenage cocks and balls. And then said book, be it Treason or Slander, is simply another crusty, spooge-covered Victoria's Secret catalog, which is about all that Coulter's "thoughts" are worth.
Because she's so fucking stupid that she doesn't get it when the Onion mocks her. On her shitty, useless website, Coulter is apparently so thrilled to death that she was mentioned in the comedy newspaper that she links to it at the top of the page. The article? One of the Onion's "What Do You Think?" articles, this one on conservative teens. One of the pretend responses is "I don't understand my son. He's always locked in the bathroom with that damned Ann Coulter book." Now, Coulter's link means one of two things, both disturbing: 1)She doesn't get the masturbation reference and thinks that said boy is reading her "book" or 2) That she likes the idea of a teenage boy jacking off to her rants against liberalism. Of course, the joke really is that Coulter presents herself as a fuckable hottie (with an Adam's apple and man hands, but, anyways) in a tight black dress and that teenage boys, thinking anything from underwear ads to old pictures of youthful granny are woody-inspiring, would actually not give a rat's ass about her politics, and, like Bill Maher probably does, would tell her shut the fuck up and let them spew a load of jizz on her flat tits and then wrap her long legs around them twice and let her giant kooz devour their teenage cocks and balls. And then said book, be it Treason or Slander, is simply another crusty, spooge-covered Victoria's Secret catalog, which is about all that Coulter's "thoughts" are worth.
Monday, December 29, 2003
What You Do to the Least of These - Vol. 2 (More of an End of the Year Spectacular):
So here we are, in the darkness at the edge of the new year, and Time magazine goes and makes the American soldier into the Personages of the Year. Yep, they're always there for us, ready to be turned loose on the streets of Your Town, USA, should there be another terrorist incident and martial law is declared and, oh, dream of neocon dreams, the Constitution is suspended, like a class clown with one too many whoopee cushions.
And the military is just great because all those minorities and no-teeth poverty-stricken sunsabitches (and daughters) have somewhere to go to provide them with three square, a salary, benefits like the possibility of a college education (and, with budget cuts to student loans, Pell Grants, etc., the G.I. Bill is becoming one of the only moderately assured places where the poor and disenfranchised can get the money for college).
And, shit and goddamn, yee-haa, let's not forget the violence factor, where you get to carry guns, shoot said guns, kill A-rabs with said guns and the shiver to your nuts that causes. You get to rough up reporters, dodge bullets just like Arnold Schwarzenegger, beat prisoners. Motherfucker, what a rush. Sure, there's the downside of getting killer, injured, mentally fucked-up. But that's a small trade-off for a guaranteed college education, combat pay, and all those great perks.
Of course, that's our ideal military, our fantasy military, our government broadcast military - it doesn't have dick to do with reality, which is a constant stream of the Bush administration fucking over the current and former members of the armed services. Between the cutbacks in iminent danger pay, the slash in pay for wounded soldiers, and on and on, and we have some major (and non-com) dicking going on. Of course, it hardly needs to be pointed out that those who command the military from the White House (minus one Colin Powell) have the combined military experience of the actors in Saving Ryan's Privates.
Now we have word that, with the extension of tours of duty, members of the military, stretched thin, committing suicide, are having retirements postponed and are essentially being held as prisoners of Bush's war. Yep, nothing like extending enlistment periods for the morale of the personages of the year.
The point here is obvious: the Bush administration will trot out soldiers as props for the next election. There will be wounded, one-legged, scarred-face, no-testicled boys in wheelchairs and dress blues pointed to during the State of the Union as proof of the good of those who fight for "us." But the constant mistreatment of soldiers and veterans ought to concern us all. Because if those who fight, whether for noble causes or under orders from a faux commander in chief, can be so readily disposed of on a whim of budget, then what hope is there for the rest of us?
So here we are, in the darkness at the edge of the new year, and Time magazine goes and makes the American soldier into the Personages of the Year. Yep, they're always there for us, ready to be turned loose on the streets of Your Town, USA, should there be another terrorist incident and martial law is declared and, oh, dream of neocon dreams, the Constitution is suspended, like a class clown with one too many whoopee cushions.
And the military is just great because all those minorities and no-teeth poverty-stricken sunsabitches (and daughters) have somewhere to go to provide them with three square, a salary, benefits like the possibility of a college education (and, with budget cuts to student loans, Pell Grants, etc., the G.I. Bill is becoming one of the only moderately assured places where the poor and disenfranchised can get the money for college).
And, shit and goddamn, yee-haa, let's not forget the violence factor, where you get to carry guns, shoot said guns, kill A-rabs with said guns and the shiver to your nuts that causes. You get to rough up reporters, dodge bullets just like Arnold Schwarzenegger, beat prisoners. Motherfucker, what a rush. Sure, there's the downside of getting killer, injured, mentally fucked-up. But that's a small trade-off for a guaranteed college education, combat pay, and all those great perks.
Of course, that's our ideal military, our fantasy military, our government broadcast military - it doesn't have dick to do with reality, which is a constant stream of the Bush administration fucking over the current and former members of the armed services. Between the cutbacks in iminent danger pay, the slash in pay for wounded soldiers, and on and on, and we have some major (and non-com) dicking going on. Of course, it hardly needs to be pointed out that those who command the military from the White House (minus one Colin Powell) have the combined military experience of the actors in Saving Ryan's Privates.
Now we have word that, with the extension of tours of duty, members of the military, stretched thin, committing suicide, are having retirements postponed and are essentially being held as prisoners of Bush's war. Yep, nothing like extending enlistment periods for the morale of the personages of the year.
The point here is obvious: the Bush administration will trot out soldiers as props for the next election. There will be wounded, one-legged, scarred-face, no-testicled boys in wheelchairs and dress blues pointed to during the State of the Union as proof of the good of those who fight for "us." But the constant mistreatment of soldiers and veterans ought to concern us all. Because if those who fight, whether for noble causes or under orders from a faux commander in chief, can be so readily disposed of on a whim of budget, then what hope is there for the rest of us?
Wednesday, December 24, 2003
Rush, Soldiers, Christmas, cont'd:
Aloysius points out that the Rude Pundit "should take his head out of" his "ass and smell the coffee" when it comes to Rush Limbaugh. Setting aside the fact that the Rude Pundit drinks so much coffee that if he could indeed shove his brain-filled head up his ass, it more than likely would have a coffee aroma, Aloysius is right to point out that Limbaugh is scrambling like a scorpion running from a weasel to avoid federal money-laundering charges (by using said blackmailing maid), which could really lead Limbaugh to hard time at a resort prison where he can bully mid-level executives who've taken the fall for their corporations. Pleasant a thought as any Limbaugh prison time may be, with or without accompanying buggering, it's so much more fun to think about him in a cell, cold turkey, sweating, shaking, seeing Hillary Clinton out of the corners of his eyes. Of course, as of today, that reality is slightly farther away, as his medical records have been temporarily re-sealed, pending appeal by Limbaugh's lawyers. Prior to that, the future unemployed Limbaugh actually said that Democrats were out to get him, calling it "payback time." So there's a vast left-wing conspiracy who have nothing better to do than get Rush, according to Rush. To repeat from yesterday, it just keeps getting more and more pathetic. Pretty soon, Rush is gonna lock himself in his studio, demanding that all the dittoheads rise up in revolution against the "liberals." Or radios will just start clicking off one by one by one around the country.
Coming on Monday: Part 2 of What You Do to the Least of These: The U.S. Military. Until then, enjoy the work of a real hero who went to Baghdad, unannounced, and walked around the streets, and met with injured soldiers: David Letterman. Letterman has more guts than almost any other presumptive "news" host, except Tucker Carlson.
Go have a fucking Christmas. That's what the Rude Pundit is doing. Back Monday.
Aloysius points out that the Rude Pundit "should take his head out of" his "ass and smell the coffee" when it comes to Rush Limbaugh. Setting aside the fact that the Rude Pundit drinks so much coffee that if he could indeed shove his brain-filled head up his ass, it more than likely would have a coffee aroma, Aloysius is right to point out that Limbaugh is scrambling like a scorpion running from a weasel to avoid federal money-laundering charges (by using said blackmailing maid), which could really lead Limbaugh to hard time at a resort prison where he can bully mid-level executives who've taken the fall for their corporations. Pleasant a thought as any Limbaugh prison time may be, with or without accompanying buggering, it's so much more fun to think about him in a cell, cold turkey, sweating, shaking, seeing Hillary Clinton out of the corners of his eyes. Of course, as of today, that reality is slightly farther away, as his medical records have been temporarily re-sealed, pending appeal by Limbaugh's lawyers. Prior to that, the future unemployed Limbaugh actually said that Democrats were out to get him, calling it "payback time." So there's a vast left-wing conspiracy who have nothing better to do than get Rush, according to Rush. To repeat from yesterday, it just keeps getting more and more pathetic. Pretty soon, Rush is gonna lock himself in his studio, demanding that all the dittoheads rise up in revolution against the "liberals." Or radios will just start clicking off one by one by one around the country.
Coming on Monday: Part 2 of What You Do to the Least of These: The U.S. Military. Until then, enjoy the work of a real hero who went to Baghdad, unannounced, and walked around the streets, and met with injured soldiers: David Letterman. Letterman has more guts than almost any other presumptive "news" host, except Tucker Carlson.
Go have a fucking Christmas. That's what the Rude Pundit is doing. Back Monday.
Tuesday, December 23, 2003
Why Rush Limbaugh Should Be Force-Fed His Own Liposuctioned Fat:
It just gets more and more pathetic, doesn't it? Like every other junkie in the history of law enforcement, Rush Limbaugh is flailing about, looking for anyone to blame, except himself. If he was a horse, he'd've been glue and dog food by now. So now Rush, in a desperate attempt to keep his medical records from being used against him (why? Maybe that agonizing, cancer-like back pain he whines about isn't so bad? Or maybe we'll find out that the reason for said back agony is all the fat pulling against his spine for all those years sitting in that goddamned chair?), is now sending out his lawyers to say that his maid was blackmailing him.
The first logical answer to this charge is "So the fuck what?" How does blackmailing a junkie make the junkie any less a junkie? Let's put it this way: say you are a rich scumbag conservative and your maid finds out you love kiddie porn - man, you can't get enough of the kiddie porn in all its forms, print, Internet, videos. Goddamn, watching pre-pubescents fuck is the only thing that keeps you sane in this horrible workaday world. Now, the maid has two options: one is the honorable thing - turn your hypocritical ass over to the police. And the other is blackmail bleed kiddie porn-watching ass dry. Oh, that this were a world where people did the honorable thing. But, at the end of the day, you still pay for kiddie porn. Paying off the maid is part of doing business in the world of things illegal. Shit, paying off the maid is a small price to pay against having your hatemongering shown for the lies and bullshit and opportunism it truly is.
But it truly is a pathetic sight, seeing Limbaugh calling himself a victim, of pain, of maids, of prosecutors, of the media. All we can do is looking forward to hearing Limbaugh broadcasting from prison as he's being raped repeatedly by some three strikes and you're out felon. ("This is Rush - ow! - Limbaugh - oof! - and you're listening - oh, god! - to the - Christ! - Sodomy in Broadcasting - can I at least get a reach-around? Ow! - network.")
It just gets more and more pathetic, doesn't it? Like every other junkie in the history of law enforcement, Rush Limbaugh is flailing about, looking for anyone to blame, except himself. If he was a horse, he'd've been glue and dog food by now. So now Rush, in a desperate attempt to keep his medical records from being used against him (why? Maybe that agonizing, cancer-like back pain he whines about isn't so bad? Or maybe we'll find out that the reason for said back agony is all the fat pulling against his spine for all those years sitting in that goddamned chair?), is now sending out his lawyers to say that his maid was blackmailing him.
The first logical answer to this charge is "So the fuck what?" How does blackmailing a junkie make the junkie any less a junkie? Let's put it this way: say you are a rich scumbag conservative and your maid finds out you love kiddie porn - man, you can't get enough of the kiddie porn in all its forms, print, Internet, videos. Goddamn, watching pre-pubescents fuck is the only thing that keeps you sane in this horrible workaday world. Now, the maid has two options: one is the honorable thing - turn your hypocritical ass over to the police. And the other is blackmail bleed kiddie porn-watching ass dry. Oh, that this were a world where people did the honorable thing. But, at the end of the day, you still pay for kiddie porn. Paying off the maid is part of doing business in the world of things illegal. Shit, paying off the maid is a small price to pay against having your hatemongering shown for the lies and bullshit and opportunism it truly is.
But it truly is a pathetic sight, seeing Limbaugh calling himself a victim, of pain, of maids, of prosecutors, of the media. All we can do is looking forward to hearing Limbaugh broadcasting from prison as he's being raped repeatedly by some three strikes and you're out felon. ("This is Rush - ow! - Limbaugh - oof! - and you're listening - oh, god! - to the - Christ! - Sodomy in Broadcasting - can I at least get a reach-around? Ow! - network.")
Monday, December 22, 2003
What You Do to the Least of These, Part 1 of a Rude Pundit Christmas Spectacular:
The Rude Pundit could not give two shits about organized religion. He believes the only reasons most major faiths exist are to 1) stop the non-marital fucking, and 2) keep poor people in their place. But as a book, the Bible is filled with cool quotes, good advice, and a few interesting parables, sort of like Dostoevsky or Hints from Heloise, but with more fucking and fewer uses for white vinegar. Sure, you can go with your Isaiah 2:4, all about beating your swords into plows and spears into pruning hooks, and, hell, sound advice, if a bit labor-intensive. But because, you know, Jesus is the reason for the season or some such shit, let's go with some words from the Bible's main character, shaggy headed hippie wanderer who pulled a David Blaine in the middle of the desert, and use Matthew 25:40, which, after all that easily ignored shit about feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, and visiting the imprisoned, Jesus says, roughly, "What you do to the least of these, you do to me."
The Rude Pundit sees it like this: the way a society treats its most fucked-up, vile, and/or lowest members says more about said society than any politician, Fox "news" "reporter," or preacher ever could tell us. In other words, show us the compassion, don't just stand there and tell us about it. It's the hardest part about being a liberal, all the goddamned compassion. Fuck, it'd be easier sometimes to say, "Kill 'em all and let God figger it out," but, nope, that is not our way.
Take, for instance, Saddam Hussein, perhaps a King Lear for our age (driven mad with exile, two children killed - it ain't that much of a stretch). There's a gut level reaction here: Let the Iraqi people decide exactly how slowly and painfully he should be murdered. Even the President got into the act, at first being all coy and shit about punishment, but then coming on full steam with that little-seen Diane Sawyer interview. In a nearly articulate statement to Sawyer, Bush said,"I think he ought to receive the ultimate penalty ... for what he has done to his people." (As Mark Crispin Miller has shown, Bush is never so articulate as when he's talking about retribution or violence or some gleeful combination of the two. Ask him about tax policy and he sounds like Boomhauer from King of the Hill. Ask him about killing an Arab and he's as erudite as William Buckley on speed.)
Of course, multilatereralism is such a bitch because you have to deal with all those "civilized" countries who don't believe in the death penalty, like England, Canada, even the fucking Pope. And, of course, we live in the most barbaric country on this planet because we make a pretext to compassion when, really, all we wanna do is fuck some shit up. So O'Reilly mouths off about the U.N. and the Vatican asking for compassion, polls show the same number of Americans who support the death penalty support it for Saddam, etc., etc.
The point here is this: compassion and humanity are two-way streets. Just like the absurdity of not declaring Saddam a prisoner of war, even though he was caught during a presumptive war, so he can be tried as America wants him to be tried and not by some pussy-ass international tribunal like Nuremberg or the Hague. Once such rules of humanity are breeched, this is the kind of shit that comes around. If we don't declare the Guantanamo 600 POWs because we don't want to abide by the Geneva Convention towards them, then what if the Taliban capture our soldiers? That's an obvious comparison.
But how about this: George Bush believes Saddam's head belongs on a pike, paraded through the streets of Baghdad like a bowling trophy in Milwaukee bar. And so once again the lesson for all governments, for all tribes, for all angry peoples will be that the only response the U.S. can tolerate is violence. Compassion is for pussies - for the French, the U.N., for Jesus . . . oh, wait a second there . . . How about this- how about we don't kill Saddam? The Rude Pundit knows Saddam is eeevil. He knows that the gut says to disembowel this douchebag, to get all Hannibal Lecter on him and make him eat part of his brain before killing him. But that's the animal in us all. Maybe, just maybe, we oughta act like human beings every once in a while and let Saddam live in prison for the rest of his sorry ass days. Maybe the way we treat someone who has degraded the species as much as Saddam says something about how we value humanity. Maybe, just maybe, those who would profess to understand Jesus, the Bible, all that shit, oughta act like they really do. It is, after all, Christmas.
The hypocrisy of the righteous knows no bounds. They will kill and call it compassion. They will destroy and call it redemption. More tomorrow, when we bring it home.
The Rude Pundit could not give two shits about organized religion. He believes the only reasons most major faiths exist are to 1) stop the non-marital fucking, and 2) keep poor people in their place. But as a book, the Bible is filled with cool quotes, good advice, and a few interesting parables, sort of like Dostoevsky or Hints from Heloise, but with more fucking and fewer uses for white vinegar. Sure, you can go with your Isaiah 2:4, all about beating your swords into plows and spears into pruning hooks, and, hell, sound advice, if a bit labor-intensive. But because, you know, Jesus is the reason for the season or some such shit, let's go with some words from the Bible's main character, shaggy headed hippie wanderer who pulled a David Blaine in the middle of the desert, and use Matthew 25:40, which, after all that easily ignored shit about feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, and visiting the imprisoned, Jesus says, roughly, "What you do to the least of these, you do to me."
The Rude Pundit sees it like this: the way a society treats its most fucked-up, vile, and/or lowest members says more about said society than any politician, Fox "news" "reporter," or preacher ever could tell us. In other words, show us the compassion, don't just stand there and tell us about it. It's the hardest part about being a liberal, all the goddamned compassion. Fuck, it'd be easier sometimes to say, "Kill 'em all and let God figger it out," but, nope, that is not our way.
Take, for instance, Saddam Hussein, perhaps a King Lear for our age (driven mad with exile, two children killed - it ain't that much of a stretch). There's a gut level reaction here: Let the Iraqi people decide exactly how slowly and painfully he should be murdered. Even the President got into the act, at first being all coy and shit about punishment, but then coming on full steam with that little-seen Diane Sawyer interview. In a nearly articulate statement to Sawyer, Bush said,"I think he ought to receive the ultimate penalty ... for what he has done to his people." (As Mark Crispin Miller has shown, Bush is never so articulate as when he's talking about retribution or violence or some gleeful combination of the two. Ask him about tax policy and he sounds like Boomhauer from King of the Hill. Ask him about killing an Arab and he's as erudite as William Buckley on speed.)
Of course, multilatereralism is such a bitch because you have to deal with all those "civilized" countries who don't believe in the death penalty, like England, Canada, even the fucking Pope. And, of course, we live in the most barbaric country on this planet because we make a pretext to compassion when, really, all we wanna do is fuck some shit up. So O'Reilly mouths off about the U.N. and the Vatican asking for compassion, polls show the same number of Americans who support the death penalty support it for Saddam, etc., etc.
The point here is this: compassion and humanity are two-way streets. Just like the absurdity of not declaring Saddam a prisoner of war, even though he was caught during a presumptive war, so he can be tried as America wants him to be tried and not by some pussy-ass international tribunal like Nuremberg or the Hague. Once such rules of humanity are breeched, this is the kind of shit that comes around. If we don't declare the Guantanamo 600 POWs because we don't want to abide by the Geneva Convention towards them, then what if the Taliban capture our soldiers? That's an obvious comparison.
But how about this: George Bush believes Saddam's head belongs on a pike, paraded through the streets of Baghdad like a bowling trophy in Milwaukee bar. And so once again the lesson for all governments, for all tribes, for all angry peoples will be that the only response the U.S. can tolerate is violence. Compassion is for pussies - for the French, the U.N., for Jesus . . . oh, wait a second there . . . How about this- how about we don't kill Saddam? The Rude Pundit knows Saddam is eeevil. He knows that the gut says to disembowel this douchebag, to get all Hannibal Lecter on him and make him eat part of his brain before killing him. But that's the animal in us all. Maybe, just maybe, we oughta act like human beings every once in a while and let Saddam live in prison for the rest of his sorry ass days. Maybe the way we treat someone who has degraded the species as much as Saddam says something about how we value humanity. Maybe, just maybe, those who would profess to understand Jesus, the Bible, all that shit, oughta act like they really do. It is, after all, Christmas.
The hypocrisy of the righteous knows no bounds. They will kill and call it compassion. They will destroy and call it redemption. More tomorrow, when we bring it home.
Saturday, December 20, 2003
Friday, December 19, 2003
Bush Gets Bitch Slapped by the Constitution:
Imagine the White House, festooned for the holidays, with American flags draped on every wreath like so many soldiers' caskets, with a Curious George model seated below a painting of Mama Babs, the spycams in the giant Nutcrackers, mock-up of Saddam's head atop the Christmas tree. All the things that make a season filled with joy. And why not? A couple of good spinnable numbers on the economy have come in, the fundraising continues at a pace that would allow the Bush campaign to make a Lord of the Rings-like trilogy about Dick and George, everyone's forgotten about that nastiness about WMDs, Congress is out of session so no embarassing need to actually compromise one's monarchical desires. All in all, it looks like it's gonna be Merry Christmas.
And then those goddamn courts just step in and fuck up the whole thing. Let's see how we can re-phrase the Second Circuit Court of Appeals decision saying that not only was U.S. citizen Jose Padilla actually entitled to a lawyer, but the majority stated that he should be charged or set free in 30 days. To recapitulate, the court said, "Say, bitch, yeah, I'm lookin' at you, Rumsfeld, Bush, Ashcroft, you little punk-ass pussy motherfuckers, see we live in a little sumpin' sumpin' called the United States of America, my bitches, and we got us a little sumpin' sumpin' called the Constitution, and one of the reasons that all those old motherfuckers back in the 1700s fought against the British was to prevent shit like detaining citizens without charges. Now, look, bitch, I know, I know, I know we are in a time of big boo bugaboo terrorism and shit, but, goddamn, if you're gonna fuck up the whole motherfuckin' country because you're so bitch-ass scared, then why not just hand the keys to the terrorists now? At least have the balls to go put your begging hands out to the Congress for the power. Now charge that motherfucker Padilla or set him free, or I'm shoving my foot up your adminstrative ass, and then we'll see who's got the dirty bomb." Or words to that effect.
Of course, the Bush adminstration won't back down. This is going to the Supreme Court. This is going to crisis, and, christ, aren't we are just so weary of all the battles, all the crises? In the end, Jose Padilla and, let's go conservative here, over half of the people being held at Guantanamo are less terrorists than losers and dupes who got caught up in a big ass governmental web.
Oh, how Curious George must have run amok in the White House to be so denied his powerful weapons of pen and paper to sign away the lives of Americans. And Dick rolled his eyes and grimaced that grimace he's so good at grimacing as he put on the yellow hat to chase George down from the Christmas tree so he could listen to Treasure Secretary John "Moneybags" Snow read Olive the Other Reindeer.
All in all, the Vice President thought as he pondered the court's decision and opened a bag of pretzels for the wayward, jabbering President, it could be worse. He could be this guy, whose apparent job is to chase around Barney, the White House dog, and film him delightfully shitting on the carpet, the snow, the American flag.
Imagine the White House, festooned for the holidays, with American flags draped on every wreath like so many soldiers' caskets, with a Curious George model seated below a painting of Mama Babs, the spycams in the giant Nutcrackers, mock-up of Saddam's head atop the Christmas tree. All the things that make a season filled with joy. And why not? A couple of good spinnable numbers on the economy have come in, the fundraising continues at a pace that would allow the Bush campaign to make a Lord of the Rings-like trilogy about Dick and George, everyone's forgotten about that nastiness about WMDs, Congress is out of session so no embarassing need to actually compromise one's monarchical desires. All in all, it looks like it's gonna be Merry Christmas.
And then those goddamn courts just step in and fuck up the whole thing. Let's see how we can re-phrase the Second Circuit Court of Appeals decision saying that not only was U.S. citizen Jose Padilla actually entitled to a lawyer, but the majority stated that he should be charged or set free in 30 days. To recapitulate, the court said, "Say, bitch, yeah, I'm lookin' at you, Rumsfeld, Bush, Ashcroft, you little punk-ass pussy motherfuckers, see we live in a little sumpin' sumpin' called the United States of America, my bitches, and we got us a little sumpin' sumpin' called the Constitution, and one of the reasons that all those old motherfuckers back in the 1700s fought against the British was to prevent shit like detaining citizens without charges. Now, look, bitch, I know, I know, I know we are in a time of big boo bugaboo terrorism and shit, but, goddamn, if you're gonna fuck up the whole motherfuckin' country because you're so bitch-ass scared, then why not just hand the keys to the terrorists now? At least have the balls to go put your begging hands out to the Congress for the power. Now charge that motherfucker Padilla or set him free, or I'm shoving my foot up your adminstrative ass, and then we'll see who's got the dirty bomb." Or words to that effect.
Of course, the Bush adminstration won't back down. This is going to the Supreme Court. This is going to crisis, and, christ, aren't we are just so weary of all the battles, all the crises? In the end, Jose Padilla and, let's go conservative here, over half of the people being held at Guantanamo are less terrorists than losers and dupes who got caught up in a big ass governmental web.
Oh, how Curious George must have run amok in the White House to be so denied his powerful weapons of pen and paper to sign away the lives of Americans. And Dick rolled his eyes and grimaced that grimace he's so good at grimacing as he put on the yellow hat to chase George down from the Christmas tree so he could listen to Treasure Secretary John "Moneybags" Snow read Olive the Other Reindeer.
All in all, the Vice President thought as he pondered the court's decision and opened a bag of pretzels for the wayward, jabbering President, it could be worse. He could be this guy, whose apparent job is to chase around Barney, the White House dog, and film him delightfully shitting on the carpet, the snow, the American flag.
Thursday, December 18, 2003
The Rude Pundit Can't Even Wrap His Head Around This One:
Here's how the case against Iraq is like a rape trial. Let's say there's this woman - call her Jane (no symbolic resonance - it's just easy to spell). Jane is a skanky bitch whore who likes to fuck men and then leave them cold, alone, and flaccid. She loves the cock. Can't get enough of it. She loves cock every which way - in her mouth, ass, kooz, hands. Jesus Christ, if you had a small enough dick, she'd let you fuck her ears. She is total fucking nympho - she doesn't distinguish - she'll fuck fat guys, skinny guys, even guys with chicken pox as long as she gets her fill of cock. Everyone who sees her knows she's heading for HIV or worse some day. However, she gets checked, like clockwork, every few months, so she can go forth and fuck some more. But let's say that one night she's kidnapped and drugged and a train is run on her by about thirty guys who, when she's bleeding, begging, sore, and weeping, keep beating and fucking her. And Jane, slut that she is, takes her tired, semen-stained, broken body to the hospital where she is helped to file charges against her assailants. They are arrested, which is satisfying, but a couple of cock-free months later, Jane discovers that she has HIV. At the trial, the defense attorneys are chomping at the bit to talk about her sexual history, much like Kobe Bryant's lawyers; they wanna show that Jane nothing more than a cock monger who finally fucked herself into oblivion. The judge at the trial allows that evidence, and, when the prosecutors tell the judge that Jane has HIV from the rape, after all the years of fucking, and isn't it just awful that not only was she raped, but she got HIV from the event, the judge says, "What's the difference?"
So it goes with George Bush, whose attitude is like the dickhead college frat party guy who's been told that if he keeps snorting coke and skipping classes he'll fail and then it turns out he passes all his classes. Bush apparently has decided that the spin on the whole issue of weapons of mass destruction is to say, "So what?" In what is perhaps the most public of Bush's blatant moves towards an absolutist presidency, in an interview with Diane Sawyer on ABC, the following exchange took place (the Rude Pundit generally refrains from long posted excerpts, but fuck it):
DIANE SAWYER: But let me try to ask — this could be a long question. ... ... When you take a look back, Vice President Cheney said there is no doubt, Saddam Hussein has weapons of mass destruction, not programs, not intent. There is no doubt he has weapons of mass destruction. Secretary Powell said 100 to 500 tons of chemical weapons and now the inspectors say that there's no evidence of these weapons existing right now. The yellow cake in Niger, in Niger. George Tenet has said that shouldn't have been in your speech. Secretary Powell talked about mobile labs. Again, the intelligence — the inspectors have said they can't confirm this, they can't corroborate.
PRESIDENT BUSH: Yet.
DIANE SAWYER: — an active —
PRESIDENT BUSH: Yet.
DIANE SAWYER: Is it yet?
PRESIDENT BUSH: But what David Kay did discover was they had a weapons program, and had that, that — let me finish for a second. Now it's more extensive than, than missiles. Had that knowledge been examined by the United Nations or had David Kay's report been placed in front of the United Nations, he, he, Saddam Hussein, would have been in material breach of 1441, which meant it was a causis belli. And look, there is no doubt that Saddam Hussein was a dangerous person, and there's no doubt we had a body of evidence proving that, and there is no doubt that the president must act, after 9/11, to make America a more secure country.
DIANE SAWYER: Again, I'm just trying to ask, these are supporters, people who believed in the war who have asked the question.
PRESIDENT BUSH: Well, you can keep asking the question and my answer's gonna be the same. Saddam was a danger and the world is better off cause we got rid of him.
DIANE SAWYER: But stated as a hard fact, that there were weapons of mass destruction as opposed to the possibility that he could move to acquire those weapons still —
PRESIDENT BUSH: So what's the difference?
DIANE SAWYER: Well —
PRESIDENT BUSH: The possibility that he could acquire weapons. If he were to acquire weapons, he would be the danger. That's, that's what I'm trying to explain to you. A gathering threat, after 9/11, is a threat that needed to be de — dealt with, and it was done after 12 long years of the world saying the man's a danger. And so we got rid of him and there's no doubt the world is a safer, freer place as a result of Saddam being gone.
DIANE SAWYER: But, but, again, some, some of the critics have said this combined with the failure to establish proof of, of elaborate terrorism contacts, has indicated that there's just not precision, at best, and misleading, at worst.
PRESIDENT BUSH: Yeah. Look — what — what we based our evidence on was a very sound National Intelligence Estimate. ...
DIANE SAWYER: Nothing should have been more precise?
PRESIDENT BUSH: What — I, I — I made my decision based upon enough intelligence to tell me that this country was threatened with Saddam Hussein in power.
DIANE SAWYER: What would it take to convince you he didn't have weapons of mass destruction?
PRESIDENT BUSH: Saddam Hussein was a threat and the fact that he is gone means America is a safer country.
DIANE SAWYER: And if he doesn't have weapons of mass destruction [inaudible] —
PRESIDENT BUSH: Diane, you can keep asking the question. I'm telling you — I made the right decision for America —
DIANE SAWYER: But-
PRESIDENT BUSH: — because Saddam Hussein used weapons of mass destruction, invaded Kuwait. ... But the fact that he is not there is, means America's a more secure country.
We can ramble on here and say the difference is over 400 American lives, thousands of injuries, tens of thousands of dead Iraqis (as Mark Morford points out, between war and sanctions, the United States has killed more people in Iraq in the last few years than Saddam could have ever hoped to in his wettest bondage wet dream). We could point out the devastation to the U.S. economy wrought by this policy, the fact that Osama is still out there, the fact that America is not safer at all, and on and on. Nobody on earth, save for a few people on his payroll, would ever believe that it is not an objective good that Saddam Hussein is not in power.
So why does "What's the difference?" go beyond the pale? Because it is such a public declaration of contempt for any opposing viewpoint. Because "What's the difference" means that nothing the President says matters if the outcome is one that can be spun into higher poll numbers. Because "What's the difference" is the attitude of those who will act on their own behalf without regard for greater good. Because "What's the difference" said on a national interview without any fear of recriminations from the statement means that we can be lied to and those in power can count on our complacency as long as they can make present images of a degraded enemy to us. Because, in the end, "What's the difference" means that the powerful don't understand democracy and don't care because neither do the rest of us.
Who is Jane in this equation? Who is the HIV-infected rape victim? Is it Iraq? Under Saddam or after? Is it the American public? The Constitution, which is suffocating behind glass in Washington and threatens to become another tattered, yellowed vestige of history?
Here's how the case against Iraq is like a rape trial. Let's say there's this woman - call her Jane (no symbolic resonance - it's just easy to spell). Jane is a skanky bitch whore who likes to fuck men and then leave them cold, alone, and flaccid. She loves the cock. Can't get enough of it. She loves cock every which way - in her mouth, ass, kooz, hands. Jesus Christ, if you had a small enough dick, she'd let you fuck her ears. She is total fucking nympho - she doesn't distinguish - she'll fuck fat guys, skinny guys, even guys with chicken pox as long as she gets her fill of cock. Everyone who sees her knows she's heading for HIV or worse some day. However, she gets checked, like clockwork, every few months, so she can go forth and fuck some more. But let's say that one night she's kidnapped and drugged and a train is run on her by about thirty guys who, when she's bleeding, begging, sore, and weeping, keep beating and fucking her. And Jane, slut that she is, takes her tired, semen-stained, broken body to the hospital where she is helped to file charges against her assailants. They are arrested, which is satisfying, but a couple of cock-free months later, Jane discovers that she has HIV. At the trial, the defense attorneys are chomping at the bit to talk about her sexual history, much like Kobe Bryant's lawyers; they wanna show that Jane nothing more than a cock monger who finally fucked herself into oblivion. The judge at the trial allows that evidence, and, when the prosecutors tell the judge that Jane has HIV from the rape, after all the years of fucking, and isn't it just awful that not only was she raped, but she got HIV from the event, the judge says, "What's the difference?"
So it goes with George Bush, whose attitude is like the dickhead college frat party guy who's been told that if he keeps snorting coke and skipping classes he'll fail and then it turns out he passes all his classes. Bush apparently has decided that the spin on the whole issue of weapons of mass destruction is to say, "So what?" In what is perhaps the most public of Bush's blatant moves towards an absolutist presidency, in an interview with Diane Sawyer on ABC, the following exchange took place (the Rude Pundit generally refrains from long posted excerpts, but fuck it):
DIANE SAWYER: But let me try to ask — this could be a long question. ... ... When you take a look back, Vice President Cheney said there is no doubt, Saddam Hussein has weapons of mass destruction, not programs, not intent. There is no doubt he has weapons of mass destruction. Secretary Powell said 100 to 500 tons of chemical weapons and now the inspectors say that there's no evidence of these weapons existing right now. The yellow cake in Niger, in Niger. George Tenet has said that shouldn't have been in your speech. Secretary Powell talked about mobile labs. Again, the intelligence — the inspectors have said they can't confirm this, they can't corroborate.
PRESIDENT BUSH: Yet.
DIANE SAWYER: — an active —
PRESIDENT BUSH: Yet.
DIANE SAWYER: Is it yet?
PRESIDENT BUSH: But what David Kay did discover was they had a weapons program, and had that, that — let me finish for a second. Now it's more extensive than, than missiles. Had that knowledge been examined by the United Nations or had David Kay's report been placed in front of the United Nations, he, he, Saddam Hussein, would have been in material breach of 1441, which meant it was a causis belli. And look, there is no doubt that Saddam Hussein was a dangerous person, and there's no doubt we had a body of evidence proving that, and there is no doubt that the president must act, after 9/11, to make America a more secure country.
DIANE SAWYER: Again, I'm just trying to ask, these are supporters, people who believed in the war who have asked the question.
PRESIDENT BUSH: Well, you can keep asking the question and my answer's gonna be the same. Saddam was a danger and the world is better off cause we got rid of him.
DIANE SAWYER: But stated as a hard fact, that there were weapons of mass destruction as opposed to the possibility that he could move to acquire those weapons still —
PRESIDENT BUSH: So what's the difference?
DIANE SAWYER: Well —
PRESIDENT BUSH: The possibility that he could acquire weapons. If he were to acquire weapons, he would be the danger. That's, that's what I'm trying to explain to you. A gathering threat, after 9/11, is a threat that needed to be de — dealt with, and it was done after 12 long years of the world saying the man's a danger. And so we got rid of him and there's no doubt the world is a safer, freer place as a result of Saddam being gone.
DIANE SAWYER: But, but, again, some, some of the critics have said this combined with the failure to establish proof of, of elaborate terrorism contacts, has indicated that there's just not precision, at best, and misleading, at worst.
PRESIDENT BUSH: Yeah. Look — what — what we based our evidence on was a very sound National Intelligence Estimate. ...
DIANE SAWYER: Nothing should have been more precise?
PRESIDENT BUSH: What — I, I — I made my decision based upon enough intelligence to tell me that this country was threatened with Saddam Hussein in power.
DIANE SAWYER: What would it take to convince you he didn't have weapons of mass destruction?
PRESIDENT BUSH: Saddam Hussein was a threat and the fact that he is gone means America is a safer country.
DIANE SAWYER: And if he doesn't have weapons of mass destruction [inaudible] —
PRESIDENT BUSH: Diane, you can keep asking the question. I'm telling you — I made the right decision for America —
DIANE SAWYER: But-
PRESIDENT BUSH: — because Saddam Hussein used weapons of mass destruction, invaded Kuwait. ... But the fact that he is not there is, means America's a more secure country.
We can ramble on here and say the difference is over 400 American lives, thousands of injuries, tens of thousands of dead Iraqis (as Mark Morford points out, between war and sanctions, the United States has killed more people in Iraq in the last few years than Saddam could have ever hoped to in his wettest bondage wet dream). We could point out the devastation to the U.S. economy wrought by this policy, the fact that Osama is still out there, the fact that America is not safer at all, and on and on. Nobody on earth, save for a few people on his payroll, would ever believe that it is not an objective good that Saddam Hussein is not in power.
So why does "What's the difference?" go beyond the pale? Because it is such a public declaration of contempt for any opposing viewpoint. Because "What's the difference" means that nothing the President says matters if the outcome is one that can be spun into higher poll numbers. Because "What's the difference" is the attitude of those who will act on their own behalf without regard for greater good. Because "What's the difference" said on a national interview without any fear of recriminations from the statement means that we can be lied to and those in power can count on our complacency as long as they can make present images of a degraded enemy to us. Because, in the end, "What's the difference" means that the powerful don't understand democracy and don't care because neither do the rest of us.
Who is Jane in this equation? Who is the HIV-infected rape victim? Is it Iraq? Under Saddam or after? Is it the American public? The Constitution, which is suffocating behind glass in Washington and threatens to become another tattered, yellowed vestige of history?
Wednesday, December 17, 2003
From Mandingo 2: Strom's Story(A Romance of the Old New South):
"Young Strom Thurmond was a tall, thin man who, at 22, had a shiny diploma in horticulture from Clemson, and he was in the prime of his thrusting sexual desires, unsure where to put his constantly hard cock. It was 1924, when propriety kept the pearly gates of white bliss slammed shut like the door of the death chamber in the state prison. Oh, the young white debutante girls at the Edgefield County cotillion kept their pure, hymen-covered twats hidden from prying fingers, tongues, and penises until marriage or at least the promise of one with a large ring. Where was a young man to turn for testicular release? Strom's best buddies, Jed and Jesse, had already been squirting their man juice between the caramel-colored thighs of the servants who worked for their parents. Between them, they had fathered three mulattoes, two quadroons, and one cute little pickaninny octaroon.
"Strom was unable to stand it, every night in his room, the flicker of the new-fangled electrical lamp creating shadows, dark shadows, curvy shadows on his wall. Every night he would hold his engorged meat in his hand and masturbate furiously to the image, dreaming of Carrie Butler, the 16 year-old negress who worked for his parents. Ah, the handkerchiefs hidden under the mattress, sticky with Strom's budding love. Why, all the white men took a fine negress as their fuck toys. It was practically one's right as a young man in South Carolina. Better to take out your animal lusts on the plump, curvaceous ass of the house niggers than on the delicate sensibilities of the white women.
"Strom knew that Carrie was a lusty wench, the way she stared at him while she scrubbed the floors and cleaned the chamber pots. Young, strapping Strom knew that Carrie's stare meant so much more than "Don't step there - I just mopped that spot." That stare meant hunger, thunder, and lightning. It bore a message of sex: I am here for the taking. When I bend over to pick your soiled underwear off the floor, I want you to take me from behind. When I am kneading bread for hours on end, I'm imagining it's your manhood between my palms. My sweat is not the dripping of labor; it is the heat from within me, within my black African heart, drumming for white cock invading my wet cunt.
"Such stare-invitations are not to be taken lightly, even in 1924, even as young Strom was on his way to becoming a farmer and teacher. One night, a humid night when the smell of crushed, wet magnolia was the perfume of pussy, when the crickets in the cotton fields sounded like they might pierce the sky, they gave into their lusts. "Pleasure me, you ebony wench," Strom announced to the young Carrie, shaking with obvious clitoral glee. Strom made barn animal noises as he rammed himself against Carrie's prone figure. Screaming "Call me Tom Jefferson!" as he came, and the promise of "The South will rise again" in response to Carrie asking if he was done. Strom loved watching her unabashed tears of joy as she pulled her skirts down and headed back to the kitchen."
When Carrie announced that she was pregnant with his love child, Strom did what any upstanding white man with an eye for a future in politics would do. He had the child sent out of state and paid her for decades to keep her silent as he did what any upstanding white man would do in the South, in the first half of the 20th century, and worked to keep the nigras in their place. And now we can all wonder what might have happened to young Strom if baby Essie Mae had spoken out in the last eight decades. We can wonder if young Strom would have held onto his place in Congress, propelled by hate, decayed by age, mad with denial, like the South.
"Young Strom Thurmond was a tall, thin man who, at 22, had a shiny diploma in horticulture from Clemson, and he was in the prime of his thrusting sexual desires, unsure where to put his constantly hard cock. It was 1924, when propriety kept the pearly gates of white bliss slammed shut like the door of the death chamber in the state prison. Oh, the young white debutante girls at the Edgefield County cotillion kept their pure, hymen-covered twats hidden from prying fingers, tongues, and penises until marriage or at least the promise of one with a large ring. Where was a young man to turn for testicular release? Strom's best buddies, Jed and Jesse, had already been squirting their man juice between the caramel-colored thighs of the servants who worked for their parents. Between them, they had fathered three mulattoes, two quadroons, and one cute little pickaninny octaroon.
"Strom was unable to stand it, every night in his room, the flicker of the new-fangled electrical lamp creating shadows, dark shadows, curvy shadows on his wall. Every night he would hold his engorged meat in his hand and masturbate furiously to the image, dreaming of Carrie Butler, the 16 year-old negress who worked for his parents. Ah, the handkerchiefs hidden under the mattress, sticky with Strom's budding love. Why, all the white men took a fine negress as their fuck toys. It was practically one's right as a young man in South Carolina. Better to take out your animal lusts on the plump, curvaceous ass of the house niggers than on the delicate sensibilities of the white women.
"Strom knew that Carrie was a lusty wench, the way she stared at him while she scrubbed the floors and cleaned the chamber pots. Young, strapping Strom knew that Carrie's stare meant so much more than "Don't step there - I just mopped that spot." That stare meant hunger, thunder, and lightning. It bore a message of sex: I am here for the taking. When I bend over to pick your soiled underwear off the floor, I want you to take me from behind. When I am kneading bread for hours on end, I'm imagining it's your manhood between my palms. My sweat is not the dripping of labor; it is the heat from within me, within my black African heart, drumming for white cock invading my wet cunt.
"Such stare-invitations are not to be taken lightly, even in 1924, even as young Strom was on his way to becoming a farmer and teacher. One night, a humid night when the smell of crushed, wet magnolia was the perfume of pussy, when the crickets in the cotton fields sounded like they might pierce the sky, they gave into their lusts. "Pleasure me, you ebony wench," Strom announced to the young Carrie, shaking with obvious clitoral glee. Strom made barn animal noises as he rammed himself against Carrie's prone figure. Screaming "Call me Tom Jefferson!" as he came, and the promise of "The South will rise again" in response to Carrie asking if he was done. Strom loved watching her unabashed tears of joy as she pulled her skirts down and headed back to the kitchen."
When Carrie announced that she was pregnant with his love child, Strom did what any upstanding white man with an eye for a future in politics would do. He had the child sent out of state and paid her for decades to keep her silent as he did what any upstanding white man would do in the South, in the first half of the 20th century, and worked to keep the nigras in their place. And now we can all wonder what might have happened to young Strom if baby Essie Mae had spoken out in the last eight decades. We can wonder if young Strom would have held onto his place in Congress, propelled by hate, decayed by age, mad with denial, like the South.
Tuesday, December 16, 2003
Howard Dean Doesn't Give a Shit What You Say:
The Rude Pundit doesn't endorse candidates. He tells you who's a jerk and who's a mensch. As far as the Rude Pundit can remember, Democratic candidate for President Howard Dean has never in his life made a speech or statement that would seem to indicate his deep, abiding man love for Saddam Hussein. As far as the Rude Pundit is aware, Dean has never met and shaken hands with the former dictator, now electroshocked pin cushion. And the Rude Pundit is pretty sure that Dean's father never belonged to an administration that coddled Hussein, even after the chemical weapons attack in 1983. Finally, the Rude Pundit is fairly certain that Dean never said that Iraqi people deserve long-term suffering at the hands of a crazed tyrant and his murdering sons. And if he did, you can be fairly certain that Joe Lieberman or Fox News would have broadcast it loudly.
But Dean is being condemned everywhere for daring to be against the war, and the basic spin is that Dean's candidacy is in trouble now that we got Saddam. It comes from the other viable candidates. It comes from everywhere on the right: from Fred Barnes, among others. And it's not even to mention the batshit insane column by Robert "The Leakkeeper" Novak accusing Dean of everything from witchcraft to child molestation or using molested children's bones to make witchcraft.
What's going on here is natural and unnatural, like Dick Cheney fucking Lynne with his "penis" on the dais at the VP residence. It's part of the natural cycle of the media's oath of fealty to all things Bush. And thank god something happened to continue the kneeling devotion. What's unnatural is that there's very few places to offer correctives to this image of Dean as being rabidly pro-Saddam. The cruel lies told with malice about Gore are likely to continue in a Dean nomination. The Daily Howler site is devoted like a monk to revealing all ways in which Gore was slandered by the press.
Dean's a tough little fucker, though. When he decides on his stand, he won't back down. Even after his "major" foreign policy speech yesterday, even after being attacked by the other Democrats, who are desperate to dent the armor, Dean would not back down. Angry? Fuck, yeah. And the one thing your "pundits" are missing about Dean's anger, which they see as a liability, is that angry people vote. It's what swept in Newt Gingrich and his cronies. It's what swept out Bush I.
Let the Democratic candidates go after each other now. Let them eviscerate each other and chew on each others' guts with a viciousness that makes wolverines seem like delicate, dainty diners. Because in the next round awaits Karl Rove, and he's grinning like a mad surgeon with a scalpel and an unconscious hobo. And any little blemishes that are hidden below the surface, Rove will slice out and reveal, calling a benign mole cancer and laughing as the patient dies from the open wound.
Depressing reading of the day: From U.S. News and World Report, our government in hiding.
The Rude Pundit doesn't endorse candidates. He tells you who's a jerk and who's a mensch. As far as the Rude Pundit can remember, Democratic candidate for President Howard Dean has never in his life made a speech or statement that would seem to indicate his deep, abiding man love for Saddam Hussein. As far as the Rude Pundit is aware, Dean has never met and shaken hands with the former dictator, now electroshocked pin cushion. And the Rude Pundit is pretty sure that Dean's father never belonged to an administration that coddled Hussein, even after the chemical weapons attack in 1983. Finally, the Rude Pundit is fairly certain that Dean never said that Iraqi people deserve long-term suffering at the hands of a crazed tyrant and his murdering sons. And if he did, you can be fairly certain that Joe Lieberman or Fox News would have broadcast it loudly.
But Dean is being condemned everywhere for daring to be against the war, and the basic spin is that Dean's candidacy is in trouble now that we got Saddam. It comes from the other viable candidates. It comes from everywhere on the right: from Fred Barnes, among others. And it's not even to mention the batshit insane column by Robert "The Leakkeeper" Novak accusing Dean of everything from witchcraft to child molestation or using molested children's bones to make witchcraft.
What's going on here is natural and unnatural, like Dick Cheney fucking Lynne with his "penis" on the dais at the VP residence. It's part of the natural cycle of the media's oath of fealty to all things Bush. And thank god something happened to continue the kneeling devotion. What's unnatural is that there's very few places to offer correctives to this image of Dean as being rabidly pro-Saddam. The cruel lies told with malice about Gore are likely to continue in a Dean nomination. The Daily Howler site is devoted like a monk to revealing all ways in which Gore was slandered by the press.
Dean's a tough little fucker, though. When he decides on his stand, he won't back down. Even after his "major" foreign policy speech yesterday, even after being attacked by the other Democrats, who are desperate to dent the armor, Dean would not back down. Angry? Fuck, yeah. And the one thing your "pundits" are missing about Dean's anger, which they see as a liability, is that angry people vote. It's what swept in Newt Gingrich and his cronies. It's what swept out Bush I.
Let the Democratic candidates go after each other now. Let them eviscerate each other and chew on each others' guts with a viciousness that makes wolverines seem like delicate, dainty diners. Because in the next round awaits Karl Rove, and he's grinning like a mad surgeon with a scalpel and an unconscious hobo. And any little blemishes that are hidden below the surface, Rove will slice out and reveal, calling a benign mole cancer and laughing as the patient dies from the open wound.
Depressing reading of the day: From U.S. News and World Report, our government in hiding.
Monday, December 15, 2003
Ironic, Huh?
That the day before Wesley Clark testifies against Slobodan Milosevic, thus looking like a President and like a soldier standing up to a tyrant, we capture Saddam? Conspiracy theorists, start your blogs.
That the day before Wesley Clark testifies against Slobodan Milosevic, thus looking like a President and like a soldier standing up to a tyrant, we capture Saddam? Conspiracy theorists, start your blogs.
Sunday, December 14, 2003
Well, Yippee-Ki-Yay, Motherfuckers:
In the houses of every viable Democratic candidate, a cry of "Goddamnit" went up into the rafters this morning. And then a quick, ashamed recapitulation of that thought, something like, "But, of course, it's great that we captured Saddam Hussein. He was eeevil." And in the White House, George Bush masturbated furiously at the thought of swaggering into the State of the Union address in January, Hussein's head in a bag, ready to hoist it high in the air and scream in triumph before the gathered members of Congress. "Fuck with me? Fuck with my Dad? See what you get, bitch?" he'll yell as he swings the head into Hillary Clinton's lap. And Hillary, good hedging hawk that she is, will toss the head aloft where it can be batted around like a beach ball at a Jimmy Buffet concert.
So, in case you're not a sentient being on this earth, we did indeed capture Saddam Hussein alive. And, you know, shit, of course it's great when vicious, murdering tyrants get captured. Some of us way over here on the left wanted Chile's Pinochet captured years before he was. We'd still like to see Uzbekistan's torturing thugs brought into custody. Oh, but, wait, that's right. They were and are allies. The capture of Saddam has more in common with Bush I's Panamanian adventure to hunt down Manuel Noriega. Both are cases of the United States cleaning up its own feces after it took a shit on the floor of international human rights in favor of opportunism and profit and expediency. And we killed a hell of a lot of civilians to do it.
And Saddam is captured. And the United States is not one scintilla safer than it was last week, before the raid. Not one act of terrorism will be halted because of this. Any battle that was going to "take place on our soil" will still take place here. Attacks on American soldiers in Iraq will continue, as the President indicated in his "lower your expectations" speech on Sunday. In terms of anything other than militaristic pride, the capture and trial of Saddam means nothing to America.
You know what's going to happen. Stocks will rally in an orgy of celebration. The media will declare the White House chances dead for all the Democratic candidates, with special piling on of Howard Dean. And Saddam in all this? Like a character in a Paul Bowles story, Saddam will be stripped and castrated; tongue cut out, he will be forced to wear bells on his shredded garments so that he may ring his bells and dance whenever Bush pushes him out to dance. In the election, fuck the economy, fuck the war on terror, fuck the environment, just watch Saddam dance. And America will smile at the sight of Saddam dancing for them. We will be filled with national pride that we got the monster.
But questions oughta linger, like the uncomfortable thought of Saddam saying he punk'd the U.S. on the whole weapons of mass destruction thing. Or the idea that now that Saddam is gone, and the attacks continue unabated, who are we gonna blame? Or have we set Iraq on the fast track to a "democratically" elected Islamic fundamentalist government?
Or maybe just this: now that, ding, dong, the witch is dead (or captured), when can we bring the troops home?
In the houses of every viable Democratic candidate, a cry of "Goddamnit" went up into the rafters this morning. And then a quick, ashamed recapitulation of that thought, something like, "But, of course, it's great that we captured Saddam Hussein. He was eeevil." And in the White House, George Bush masturbated furiously at the thought of swaggering into the State of the Union address in January, Hussein's head in a bag, ready to hoist it high in the air and scream in triumph before the gathered members of Congress. "Fuck with me? Fuck with my Dad? See what you get, bitch?" he'll yell as he swings the head into Hillary Clinton's lap. And Hillary, good hedging hawk that she is, will toss the head aloft where it can be batted around like a beach ball at a Jimmy Buffet concert.
So, in case you're not a sentient being on this earth, we did indeed capture Saddam Hussein alive. And, you know, shit, of course it's great when vicious, murdering tyrants get captured. Some of us way over here on the left wanted Chile's Pinochet captured years before he was. We'd still like to see Uzbekistan's torturing thugs brought into custody. Oh, but, wait, that's right. They were and are allies. The capture of Saddam has more in common with Bush I's Panamanian adventure to hunt down Manuel Noriega. Both are cases of the United States cleaning up its own feces after it took a shit on the floor of international human rights in favor of opportunism and profit and expediency. And we killed a hell of a lot of civilians to do it.
And Saddam is captured. And the United States is not one scintilla safer than it was last week, before the raid. Not one act of terrorism will be halted because of this. Any battle that was going to "take place on our soil" will still take place here. Attacks on American soldiers in Iraq will continue, as the President indicated in his "lower your expectations" speech on Sunday. In terms of anything other than militaristic pride, the capture and trial of Saddam means nothing to America.
You know what's going to happen. Stocks will rally in an orgy of celebration. The media will declare the White House chances dead for all the Democratic candidates, with special piling on of Howard Dean. And Saddam in all this? Like a character in a Paul Bowles story, Saddam will be stripped and castrated; tongue cut out, he will be forced to wear bells on his shredded garments so that he may ring his bells and dance whenever Bush pushes him out to dance. In the election, fuck the economy, fuck the war on terror, fuck the environment, just watch Saddam dance. And America will smile at the sight of Saddam dancing for them. We will be filled with national pride that we got the monster.
But questions oughta linger, like the uncomfortable thought of Saddam saying he punk'd the U.S. on the whole weapons of mass destruction thing. Or the idea that now that Saddam is gone, and the attacks continue unabated, who are we gonna blame? Or have we set Iraq on the fast track to a "democratically" elected Islamic fundamentalist government?
Or maybe just this: now that, ding, dong, the witch is dead (or captured), when can we bring the troops home?
Saturday, December 13, 2003
Walking Away for the Weekend - But Ann Coulter Is Still a Cunt:
The Rude Pundit needs to purge for the weekend. The latest Halliburton thing drove him over the edge. He needs to wipe away from his brain all the images of massacred children, a pregnant Andrew Card, and George Bush's tiny little limp dick in order to function as a human being in America. So he'll return on Monday.
Until then, enjoy the mad rantings of chief cunt Ann Coulter calling Howard Dean "an insane person," and relish the delicious irony of someone as objectively nutzoid as Coulter deigning to label anyone else crazy. The Rude Pundit thinks he'll buy the Ann Coulter action figure so he can jack off on its face as it says, "Liberals hate America, they hate flag-wavers, they hate abortion opponents, they hate all religions except Islam, post 9/11. Even Islamic terrorists don't hate America like Liberals do." The Rude Pundit will smack its plastic ass and tell it, "Yeah, but you like that, don't you, bitch?"
The Rude Pundit needs to purge for the weekend. The latest Halliburton thing drove him over the edge. He needs to wipe away from his brain all the images of massacred children, a pregnant Andrew Card, and George Bush's tiny little limp dick in order to function as a human being in America. So he'll return on Monday.
Until then, enjoy the mad rantings of chief cunt Ann Coulter calling Howard Dean "an insane person," and relish the delicious irony of someone as objectively nutzoid as Coulter deigning to label anyone else crazy. The Rude Pundit thinks he'll buy the Ann Coulter action figure so he can jack off on its face as it says, "Liberals hate America, they hate flag-wavers, they hate abortion opponents, they hate all religions except Islam, post 9/11. Even Islamic terrorists don't hate America like Liberals do." The Rude Pundit will smack its plastic ass and tell it, "Yeah, but you like that, don't you, bitch?"
Friday, December 12, 2003
Don't Worry - We're Not Going To Pretend To Care:
We here in the hinterlands of the "democratic" populace of the country won't notice a goddamn thing. We are blind to all things but those we are commanded by our TVs to see. We are shopping, drinking, shitting, reality show watching zombies. So don't make us pay attention to anything that might break through our deep, heartfelt apathy.
Like the decision by the Iraqi Health Ministry to stop counting civilian casualties in that country, a move that, no matter how loud the denials by the Coalition Provisional Authority, had to have the CPA imprimatur in order to take place. Remember who runs every fuckin' thing in Iraq? No governmental agent takes a piss without our okay. So that's it. It won't matter if we kill 100,000 civilians in our demented attempt to transform Iraq into a great experiment in a nation run by corporations. Fuck, it won't matter if Halliburton kills a couple of thou to maintain its contracts. We won't know. Oh, sure, whiny villagers will always assert that this toddler or that teenager was gunned down, but, c'mon, prove it. Or, even better, prove America wrong.
Like the "battle" of Samarra, where the United States allegedly killed 54 guerilla fighters. Except that's just what we claimed. Except no one could find the bodies. Except the only casualties in hospitals were civilians. What the hell happened? Does the military now clean up after itself? And if there was a body clean-up crew, was it a subsidiary of Halliburton? And how much did they overcharge the U.S. to dispose of the bullet-riddled bodies of the "guerillas"? The Rude Pundit digresses. The military said it was 54 and for most Americans that was good enough. Because thank god we're fighting an enemy that doesn't look white. Otherwise, we might give a rat's ass about their fate.
Like the Arab-American waiter who was prevented from working a function that our President attended in Baltimore. Like the 170,000 or so people from Muslim and Arab countries who were forced to register with the government, none of whom has been charged as a terrorist. Like whoever the hell is being held in Guantanamo. Like the Human Rights Watch report that says American cluster bombs have killed over 1000 civilians, although, fuck, we won't know about that anymore.
Remember: America doesn't care. Apathy is the foundation of the right-wing agenda. Apathy of the majority of the population. The blinders of religion for another big segment. And the warm, warm light of rage for the rest of us. So when the President treats our "allies" with contempt and bullying, we can sit in front of our flickering TV light, watch our newsbreaks, and then wonder if we'll be able to see Paris Hilton fuck her ex-boyfriend again on the Internet. And around the water cooler, we won't talk about how our country is a viscous miasma of hate and pettiness. We'll talk about Paris's tits. Those sweet little rich white tits at whose nipple suckles the conscience of a lost nation.
We here in the hinterlands of the "democratic" populace of the country won't notice a goddamn thing. We are blind to all things but those we are commanded by our TVs to see. We are shopping, drinking, shitting, reality show watching zombies. So don't make us pay attention to anything that might break through our deep, heartfelt apathy.
Like the decision by the Iraqi Health Ministry to stop counting civilian casualties in that country, a move that, no matter how loud the denials by the Coalition Provisional Authority, had to have the CPA imprimatur in order to take place. Remember who runs every fuckin' thing in Iraq? No governmental agent takes a piss without our okay. So that's it. It won't matter if we kill 100,000 civilians in our demented attempt to transform Iraq into a great experiment in a nation run by corporations. Fuck, it won't matter if Halliburton kills a couple of thou to maintain its contracts. We won't know. Oh, sure, whiny villagers will always assert that this toddler or that teenager was gunned down, but, c'mon, prove it. Or, even better, prove America wrong.
Like the "battle" of Samarra, where the United States allegedly killed 54 guerilla fighters. Except that's just what we claimed. Except no one could find the bodies. Except the only casualties in hospitals were civilians. What the hell happened? Does the military now clean up after itself? And if there was a body clean-up crew, was it a subsidiary of Halliburton? And how much did they overcharge the U.S. to dispose of the bullet-riddled bodies of the "guerillas"? The Rude Pundit digresses. The military said it was 54 and for most Americans that was good enough. Because thank god we're fighting an enemy that doesn't look white. Otherwise, we might give a rat's ass about their fate.
Like the Arab-American waiter who was prevented from working a function that our President attended in Baltimore. Like the 170,000 or so people from Muslim and Arab countries who were forced to register with the government, none of whom has been charged as a terrorist. Like whoever the hell is being held in Guantanamo. Like the Human Rights Watch report that says American cluster bombs have killed over 1000 civilians, although, fuck, we won't know about that anymore.
Remember: America doesn't care. Apathy is the foundation of the right-wing agenda. Apathy of the majority of the population. The blinders of religion for another big segment. And the warm, warm light of rage for the rest of us. So when the President treats our "allies" with contempt and bullying, we can sit in front of our flickering TV light, watch our newsbreaks, and then wonder if we'll be able to see Paris Hilton fuck her ex-boyfriend again on the Internet. And around the water cooler, we won't talk about how our country is a viscous miasma of hate and pettiness. We'll talk about Paris's tits. Those sweet little rich white tits at whose nipple suckles the conscience of a lost nation.
Thursday, December 11, 2003
America: God, We're Such Assholes:
So here we are. America. Goddamn, motherfucking America, man. Soviets are gone. China's a thorn, but mostly complacent in search of the dollar or euro. So we're all that's left. America. The Big Kahuna. Nobody can fuck with us. And how do we handle being the world's only superpower. Through friendship, negotiation, reaching out, and kindness? Nope. We decided that we're going to be total dicks.
How else do you explain the decision by the Department of Defense to punish Russia, France, Germany, and (maybe) Canada for not supporting the war by not allowing contractors in those countries to take part in the orgy of corporate spending known as "rebuilding" Iraq? You gotta be a total insecure dick to do that, not the gorilla in the chimp cage of international relations. And, of course, as every policy decision by the Bush Administration has created lately, an outcry from different quarters of the political world is telling us how pissed off everyone is at this move. Of course, the countries involved are mightily hacked off. Even conservatives find the move "heavy-handed" and "stupid." And this closed door policy comes at a time when the folksy but evil James Baker is heading off to Europe to see if these same countries, these same fucking countries, will forgive the debts of Iraq. This isn't a foreign policy. It's a bunch of shit made up on the fly. As Josh Marshall points out, they have no idea what they're doing.
Said conservatives at The Weekly Standard revealed some cute blind optimism when they said that they "suspect" that Bush would overrule the Pentagon. But, vile as Bill Kristol and Bob Kegan are, they didn't realize that the President is a total smirking cock. See, he pronounced today that he stands by the decision, and, unlike that deviant fuck Paul Wolfowitz, who tried to finesse and lie about this whole thing by saying some babbling bullshit about "national security" concerns as to why the Big Four were excluded, Bush didn't even try to hide his contempt, saying, "It's very simple: Our people risked their lives; friendly coalition folks risked their lives. And, therefore, the contracting is going to reflect that. And that's what the U.S. taxpayers expect," with nary a poll of U.S. taxpayers in sight. See, that's the way assholes work, whether on the street or in the White House. An asshole says he's gonna do it his way and if you don't wanna do it his way, you go fuck yourself. And if you're a real asshole, and someone threatens you, you usually say something like, "Bring it on." Or, in this case, when asked about international trade law being violated by this move, Bush responded, "International law? I better call my lawyer."
When did we become such a nation of assholes? Led by the kind of frat boy asshole failure braggart jerk-off whose ass we always wanted to kick or see kicked out in the playground or behind the bar? Instead, we allow, without so much as a whimper, our "elected" leaders to represent us by behaving like bullies. Our foreign policy is all about pimp-slapping other countries. "France, bitch, you best bring in the benjamins," we say, slamming France against a wall and holding it by its neck as we slap its face back and forth. "That's right, bitch. You best listen to me. Now, get out there and get on your knees and work those froggy lips."
Bush is the asshole guy who shows up at the club in his Ferrari, decked out in the Armani, so much bling weighing down his neck, packing heat. So why does an asshole male drive a hot sports car or wear expensive clothes or carry a gun? It's because he knows that inside his pants is a tiny little dick and he's gonna lash out at the world 'cause he so hates himself for his little dick.
So here we are. America. Goddamn, motherfucking America, man. Soviets are gone. China's a thorn, but mostly complacent in search of the dollar or euro. So we're all that's left. America. The Big Kahuna. Nobody can fuck with us. And how do we handle being the world's only superpower. Through friendship, negotiation, reaching out, and kindness? Nope. We decided that we're going to be total dicks.
How else do you explain the decision by the Department of Defense to punish Russia, France, Germany, and (maybe) Canada for not supporting the war by not allowing contractors in those countries to take part in the orgy of corporate spending known as "rebuilding" Iraq? You gotta be a total insecure dick to do that, not the gorilla in the chimp cage of international relations. And, of course, as every policy decision by the Bush Administration has created lately, an outcry from different quarters of the political world is telling us how pissed off everyone is at this move. Of course, the countries involved are mightily hacked off. Even conservatives find the move "heavy-handed" and "stupid." And this closed door policy comes at a time when the folksy but evil James Baker is heading off to Europe to see if these same countries, these same fucking countries, will forgive the debts of Iraq. This isn't a foreign policy. It's a bunch of shit made up on the fly. As Josh Marshall points out, they have no idea what they're doing.
Said conservatives at The Weekly Standard revealed some cute blind optimism when they said that they "suspect" that Bush would overrule the Pentagon. But, vile as Bill Kristol and Bob Kegan are, they didn't realize that the President is a total smirking cock. See, he pronounced today that he stands by the decision, and, unlike that deviant fuck Paul Wolfowitz, who tried to finesse and lie about this whole thing by saying some babbling bullshit about "national security" concerns as to why the Big Four were excluded, Bush didn't even try to hide his contempt, saying, "It's very simple: Our people risked their lives; friendly coalition folks risked their lives. And, therefore, the contracting is going to reflect that. And that's what the U.S. taxpayers expect," with nary a poll of U.S. taxpayers in sight. See, that's the way assholes work, whether on the street or in the White House. An asshole says he's gonna do it his way and if you don't wanna do it his way, you go fuck yourself. And if you're a real asshole, and someone threatens you, you usually say something like, "Bring it on." Or, in this case, when asked about international trade law being violated by this move, Bush responded, "International law? I better call my lawyer."
When did we become such a nation of assholes? Led by the kind of frat boy asshole failure braggart jerk-off whose ass we always wanted to kick or see kicked out in the playground or behind the bar? Instead, we allow, without so much as a whimper, our "elected" leaders to represent us by behaving like bullies. Our foreign policy is all about pimp-slapping other countries. "France, bitch, you best bring in the benjamins," we say, slamming France against a wall and holding it by its neck as we slap its face back and forth. "That's right, bitch. You best listen to me. Now, get out there and get on your knees and work those froggy lips."
Bush is the asshole guy who shows up at the club in his Ferrari, decked out in the Armani, so much bling weighing down his neck, packing heat. So why does an asshole male drive a hot sports car or wear expensive clothes or carry a gun? It's because he knows that inside his pants is a tiny little dick and he's gonna lash out at the world 'cause he so hates himself for his little dick.
Reminder:
Today - Hear the Rude Pundit speak the rudeness on Radio Left at 5 p.m. EST.
And come back this afternoon for today's post: America - God, We're Such Assholes.
Today - Hear the Rude Pundit speak the rudeness on Radio Left at 5 p.m. EST.
And come back this afternoon for today's post: America - God, We're Such Assholes.
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