Life Beckons - Late Post Today:
Damn, in this season of the witch, the Rude Pundit wishes he could just leave his superhero outfit on, but, alas, he must be Clark Kent for a little while this morning.
This afternoon: "Bush and Iraq - Farce and Tragedy" and "Why Ann Coulter Is Still a Cunt."
Tomorrow: "What John Kerry Should Say, Part 2 (Rude Version)."
Wednesday, October 06, 2004
The Devil and John Edwards:
It's an old story, you know. That, after death, a soul must sometimes wrestle the Devil in order to get into the gates of heaven. In the mountains of North Carolina, this legend takes on a tangible reality because, see, after someone died, a pottery jug with a face on it, say a devil face, was placed on the grave. If, within a year, the jug broke, it meant that the soul was wrestling with the Devil and needed the prayers of the living to set the soul free. Moving from Appalachian folklore to Jungian archetypes, when one wrestles the devil, one is fighting one's own demons, the worser parts of our selves that we must defeat in order to move on with our lives. It is interesting, however, to note that the figure of the Devil appears in these contexts, and that a human (or a human soul) can never truly be free until one faces down the Devil. And we all know that that motherfucker fights with everything he's got. Which, in a not-so-roundabout way, brings us to last night's debate between the Devil and John Edwards.
O, how the Devil danced last night -- mouth agape, eyes agog, tongue lolling around his mouth. Good God, how the Devil danced, farting and belching, flicking snot in the direction of his opponent. When the Devil spat out, "Whatever the political pressures of the moment requires, that's where you're at," he wanted the acid sting of his saliva to tear holes in the unflappable veneer of Edwards. The Devil's spit is poison, you know, filled with bile and worm droppings and viscous mucous from the burning lava fountains of Hades.
O, how the Devil came to Cleveland to dine, dine on the delicate, delicious body of Edwards, to suck the marrow from the bones of youth. The Devil is an old man; he has seen much; he must have, considering all of the evil he has committed. The Devil sees his age as a tribute to the life-giving vivacity of evil and doom. The Devil wanted to make sure he made Edwards seem like a whippersnapper compared with the wisdom of the ancient: "I'm not worried about what some precinct committeemen in Iowa were thinking of me with respect to the next round of caucuses of 2008." Young people everywhere should be chilled at the Devil's attitude towards them. Despite being fifty-one years-old, Edwards was their surrogate last night, and the Devil time and again attempted to portray youthfulness as equivalent with irrelevance, lies, and idiocy. The Devil hates the young, except as they provide him with blood and hearts to keep his human form whole so that it doesn't collapse into a fetid, gelatinous heap on the floor, a corpse already decayed from the inside out.
O, how the Devil is a liar, a fraud, a misshapen freak in a suit. The reason that people believe the Devil is that he speaks his lies with low, soothing voice of one who is telling the truth. And with the conviction that his lies are reality. Many of the lies have already been dealt with, like the fact that, despite the Devil's line, "The first time I ever met you was when you walked on the stage tonight," he has met Edwards on two occasions, at least. (And the Devil's minions have called the Prayer Breakfast meeting "inconsequential." Well, of course such an event has no consequence - he's the Devil.) Or the fact that when the Devil said, "A great many of our small businesses pay taxes under the personal income taxes rather than the corporate rate. And about 900,000 small businesses will be hit if you do, in fact, do what they want to do with the top bracket," what is true is that only half that number would be affected, and those are mostly people who work alone, maybe selling on E-Bay, and not really producing any, say, jobs. And let's not even get into the Devil's lies about Iraq (that will be discussed here tomorrow). Instead, let's deal with this bright, shiny lie: that El Salvador was a beacon of democracy that the Devil adored back during the Reagan adminstration. The Reagan-backed Jose Napoleon Duarte was "elected" in 1984 after years of left-wing guerilla action and right-wing government-backed death squads killed tens of thousands of people. The United States provided El Salvador with the largest Air Force in Central America, which in the first quarter of 1985, made more than a hundred bomb attacks of civilian opposition areas. Thousands were killed and hundreds of thousands were turned into refugees. One can be sure that the vast majority of those people didn't give a happy rat's ass about democracy. But the Devil was there, he assured us last night, the Devil was there to make sure it happened just the way it did. Goddamn, how those souls must have felt like fresh air being inhaled by the Devil. And, motherfuck, if he doesn't tell us he's gonna do the same in Iraq.
O, how Edwards wrestled the Devil last night. How he confronted the Devil with facts and strength and courage. It really is the only way to truly wrestle the Devil. And the best one can hope for when one wrestles the Devil is a draw, 'cause the Devil will always lie and connive and kick you in the nuts and bite your nose and piss on your face in order to win. When the Devil accused Edwards of demeaning the contribution of Iraqis to the "peace" effort in that country, the Rude Pundit thought the Devil might take another tasty soul to Hell. But Edwards fought back, showing the world the evil the Devil was trying to hide. When Edwards said, "He voted against the Department of Education. He voted against funding for Meals on Wheels for seniors. He voted against a holiday for Martin Luther King. He voted against a resolution calling for the release of Nelson Mandela in South Africa," the Devil was grimly shaken, caught, for just a second, in his own web of deceit.
The Devil's moment in the sunlight is gone now. He can disappear again into the miasma and mire of his minions, who shield him from the light of day where his horns are obvious. Where, whenever he talks about death and destruction, he can proudly show his erection and not have to hide it under a table. But the Devil was wrestled while those of us who recognize the Devil had our prayers answered. Edwards sent the Devil away, no stronger than he was before, but no less evil and vile and mad.
It's an old story, you know. That, after death, a soul must sometimes wrestle the Devil in order to get into the gates of heaven. In the mountains of North Carolina, this legend takes on a tangible reality because, see, after someone died, a pottery jug with a face on it, say a devil face, was placed on the grave. If, within a year, the jug broke, it meant that the soul was wrestling with the Devil and needed the prayers of the living to set the soul free. Moving from Appalachian folklore to Jungian archetypes, when one wrestles the devil, one is fighting one's own demons, the worser parts of our selves that we must defeat in order to move on with our lives. It is interesting, however, to note that the figure of the Devil appears in these contexts, and that a human (or a human soul) can never truly be free until one faces down the Devil. And we all know that that motherfucker fights with everything he's got. Which, in a not-so-roundabout way, brings us to last night's debate between the Devil and John Edwards.
O, how the Devil danced last night -- mouth agape, eyes agog, tongue lolling around his mouth. Good God, how the Devil danced, farting and belching, flicking snot in the direction of his opponent. When the Devil spat out, "Whatever the political pressures of the moment requires, that's where you're at," he wanted the acid sting of his saliva to tear holes in the unflappable veneer of Edwards. The Devil's spit is poison, you know, filled with bile and worm droppings and viscous mucous from the burning lava fountains of Hades.
O, how the Devil came to Cleveland to dine, dine on the delicate, delicious body of Edwards, to suck the marrow from the bones of youth. The Devil is an old man; he has seen much; he must have, considering all of the evil he has committed. The Devil sees his age as a tribute to the life-giving vivacity of evil and doom. The Devil wanted to make sure he made Edwards seem like a whippersnapper compared with the wisdom of the ancient: "I'm not worried about what some precinct committeemen in Iowa were thinking of me with respect to the next round of caucuses of 2008." Young people everywhere should be chilled at the Devil's attitude towards them. Despite being fifty-one years-old, Edwards was their surrogate last night, and the Devil time and again attempted to portray youthfulness as equivalent with irrelevance, lies, and idiocy. The Devil hates the young, except as they provide him with blood and hearts to keep his human form whole so that it doesn't collapse into a fetid, gelatinous heap on the floor, a corpse already decayed from the inside out.
O, how the Devil is a liar, a fraud, a misshapen freak in a suit. The reason that people believe the Devil is that he speaks his lies with low, soothing voice of one who is telling the truth. And with the conviction that his lies are reality. Many of the lies have already been dealt with, like the fact that, despite the Devil's line, "The first time I ever met you was when you walked on the stage tonight," he has met Edwards on two occasions, at least. (And the Devil's minions have called the Prayer Breakfast meeting "inconsequential." Well, of course such an event has no consequence - he's the Devil.) Or the fact that when the Devil said, "A great many of our small businesses pay taxes under the personal income taxes rather than the corporate rate. And about 900,000 small businesses will be hit if you do, in fact, do what they want to do with the top bracket," what is true is that only half that number would be affected, and those are mostly people who work alone, maybe selling on E-Bay, and not really producing any, say, jobs. And let's not even get into the Devil's lies about Iraq (that will be discussed here tomorrow). Instead, let's deal with this bright, shiny lie: that El Salvador was a beacon of democracy that the Devil adored back during the Reagan adminstration. The Reagan-backed Jose Napoleon Duarte was "elected" in 1984 after years of left-wing guerilla action and right-wing government-backed death squads killed tens of thousands of people. The United States provided El Salvador with the largest Air Force in Central America, which in the first quarter of 1985, made more than a hundred bomb attacks of civilian opposition areas. Thousands were killed and hundreds of thousands were turned into refugees. One can be sure that the vast majority of those people didn't give a happy rat's ass about democracy. But the Devil was there, he assured us last night, the Devil was there to make sure it happened just the way it did. Goddamn, how those souls must have felt like fresh air being inhaled by the Devil. And, motherfuck, if he doesn't tell us he's gonna do the same in Iraq.
O, how Edwards wrestled the Devil last night. How he confronted the Devil with facts and strength and courage. It really is the only way to truly wrestle the Devil. And the best one can hope for when one wrestles the Devil is a draw, 'cause the Devil will always lie and connive and kick you in the nuts and bite your nose and piss on your face in order to win. When the Devil accused Edwards of demeaning the contribution of Iraqis to the "peace" effort in that country, the Rude Pundit thought the Devil might take another tasty soul to Hell. But Edwards fought back, showing the world the evil the Devil was trying to hide. When Edwards said, "He voted against the Department of Education. He voted against funding for Meals on Wheels for seniors. He voted against a holiday for Martin Luther King. He voted against a resolution calling for the release of Nelson Mandela in South Africa," the Devil was grimly shaken, caught, for just a second, in his own web of deceit.
The Devil's moment in the sunlight is gone now. He can disappear again into the miasma and mire of his minions, who shield him from the light of day where his horns are obvious. Where, whenever he talks about death and destruction, he can proudly show his erection and not have to hide it under a table. But the Devil was wrestled while those of us who recognize the Devil had our prayers answered. Edwards sent the Devil away, no stronger than he was before, but no less evil and vile and mad.
Tuesday, October 05, 2004
What Edwards Should Say (Rude Version):
If, at tonight's "debate", when Edwards is asked, "How do you believe your career as a trial lawyer affects your approach to government?", he doesn't answer, "What the fuck kind of question is that, Gwen? What the fuck are you implying? Holy fuck, have you even looked at the cases I've tried? Doesn't the press do any actual goddamn research on, say, Lexis-Nexis or even fuckin' Google? Or maybe my fuckin' book? My legal career was based on helping individuals dicked over by the very kind of corporate and government culture this evil motherfucker across this stupid ass table has fostered. And don't you fuckin' gimme that stroke victim smirk, Dick, or I'll come across and start shovin' aluminum tubes up your ass, all 60,000 of 'em, one anodized tube at a goddamn time. Then, with all those tubes up your ass, you can tell me, tell all of us, if they feel like centrifuge tubes or just plain ol' rocket tubes. And then I'll shove yellow cake uranium from Niger up your ass. Then I'll shove the bones and blood of over 1000 Americans up your ass. And the bodies of tens of thousands of Iraqis, right up the motherfuckin' asshole, Dick, right on up. We'll follow that up with Energy Task Force documents, reams of 'em, get it, Dick? Gettin' reamed with reams? Then I'll shove Halliburton up your ass. I'll shove Kellog, shove Brown, shove Root, right up into your dessicated colon. I'll shove no-bid contracts and deferred compensation in there until your sphincter is aching and bloody. That's right, Dick, it's all goin' up there. Bribes to Nigeria and business with Iran. We're packin' it in, bitch. And let's go back, Gwen, let's get old school on this man whose heart is so small it needs a machine to make it pump, this vile, depraved political attack dog, this insider who massages the system to the benefit of his bastard cronies like a Korean hooker at a Japanese spa. Let's shove South African apartheid up Dick's ass. Let's shove water pollution, air pollution and other environmental degradation up Cheney's ass. Let's shove the bodies of women who will die of botched abortions if he gets his way up Cheney's ass. Let's shove the Project for a New American Century up Cheney's ass, along with Wolfowitz, Rumsfeld, Perle, and all the motherfuckin' neocons, pack 'em in, into Cheney's ass, alongside draft deferments, Lynne, SDI, and more. And when Cheney's cryin', yellin' that it hurts, his ass hurts, when he's weepin' and wonderin', 'Why? Why are you shoving all this up my ass?' I'll say, 'Because you've been shovin' it all up our asses for years, you vicious, soulless bastard. Now, stay bent over, 'cause, trust me, there's tons more shovin' to do and then I'm gonna fuck you Deliverance style, you corporate pig, so start practicin' your squealin'.' Does that answer your question, Gwen?", then the debate will be worthless.
If, at tonight's "debate", when Edwards is asked, "How do you believe your career as a trial lawyer affects your approach to government?", he doesn't answer, "What the fuck kind of question is that, Gwen? What the fuck are you implying? Holy fuck, have you even looked at the cases I've tried? Doesn't the press do any actual goddamn research on, say, Lexis-Nexis or even fuckin' Google? Or maybe my fuckin' book? My legal career was based on helping individuals dicked over by the very kind of corporate and government culture this evil motherfucker across this stupid ass table has fostered. And don't you fuckin' gimme that stroke victim smirk, Dick, or I'll come across and start shovin' aluminum tubes up your ass, all 60,000 of 'em, one anodized tube at a goddamn time. Then, with all those tubes up your ass, you can tell me, tell all of us, if they feel like centrifuge tubes or just plain ol' rocket tubes. And then I'll shove yellow cake uranium from Niger up your ass. Then I'll shove the bones and blood of over 1000 Americans up your ass. And the bodies of tens of thousands of Iraqis, right up the motherfuckin' asshole, Dick, right on up. We'll follow that up with Energy Task Force documents, reams of 'em, get it, Dick? Gettin' reamed with reams? Then I'll shove Halliburton up your ass. I'll shove Kellog, shove Brown, shove Root, right up into your dessicated colon. I'll shove no-bid contracts and deferred compensation in there until your sphincter is aching and bloody. That's right, Dick, it's all goin' up there. Bribes to Nigeria and business with Iran. We're packin' it in, bitch. And let's go back, Gwen, let's get old school on this man whose heart is so small it needs a machine to make it pump, this vile, depraved political attack dog, this insider who massages the system to the benefit of his bastard cronies like a Korean hooker at a Japanese spa. Let's shove South African apartheid up Dick's ass. Let's shove water pollution, air pollution and other environmental degradation up Cheney's ass. Let's shove the bodies of women who will die of botched abortions if he gets his way up Cheney's ass. Let's shove the Project for a New American Century up Cheney's ass, along with Wolfowitz, Rumsfeld, Perle, and all the motherfuckin' neocons, pack 'em in, into Cheney's ass, alongside draft deferments, Lynne, SDI, and more. And when Cheney's cryin', yellin' that it hurts, his ass hurts, when he's weepin' and wonderin', 'Why? Why are you shoving all this up my ass?' I'll say, 'Because you've been shovin' it all up our asses for years, you vicious, soulless bastard. Now, stay bent over, 'cause, trust me, there's tons more shovin' to do and then I'm gonna fuck you Deliverance style, you corporate pig, so start practicin' your squealin'.' Does that answer your question, Gwen?", then the debate will be worthless.
Monday, October 04, 2004
The Right Wing Goes Nutzoid:
Let's begin with a good pundit caveat: by no means is the election over, Gore got a bounce from the first debate last time, blah, blah, blah. But, you know, the right wing is losing its mind over the idea that Kerry has erased Bush's lead in the polls. Oh, how Karl Rove's leather slave that he keeps in the basement of the White House, right next to Andrew Jackson's collection of scalps, must have suffered Thursday night. How Rove, sweaty, smelling of open bar cosmos, took out the big, pointed dildo and, unlubricated, shoved it into his ecstatic leather slave's asshole, twisting it, shrieking, "I'm the master of spin. I'm the master of spin." Because Rove knows, he fucking knows in his heart of hearts, that he's lost just a bit of control, that he has played a high-wire act with the media and that he has stumbled, and maybe, just maybe, he will fall. And it's all because of that goddamned half-wit son of a bitch Bush, who Rove has dragged by his nuts through more vicious dogfights than a starving mutt in the streets of Rio. Rove is a madman in the sense that he is insane. Crazed. A demonic essence tinged with a human's capability to draw blood. And he's gonna strike back. If he's got anything left in his quill, he's gonna fire that motherfucker with everything he's got.
He's got Fox willing to do his bidding, now that the "news" network has tossed aside any semblance of fairness. It's the "news" network for the imbalanced. This past weekend, Fox showed just how fair it was with a pair of stories on its website that were fabrications and lies. First, in an article called "Trail Tales: What's That Face?" Fox "reporter" (if by "reporter" you mean "dogmatic cum breath ready to blow the Bush campaign again and again") Carl Cameron fabricated fun faux faggy quotes from Kerry like, "I'm a metrosexual -- he's a cowboy" and "Women should like me! I do manicures." Fox later retracted the quotes and apologized, saying that its reporter was suffering from "fatigue," as were, one assumes, all the editors and proofers who saw this before it went out. Josh Marshall asks all the relevant questions. Of course, it didn't help matters that the next day, Fox put up another article claiming the group "Communists for Kerry" was a legitimate organization that supported Kerry when, in fact, it is a parody group like Billionaires for Bush. Irony is not the strong suit at Fox, unless one considers the rantings of Bill O'Reilly and Sean Hannity long performance art pieces about the existence of irony. Fox has updated the article with an explanation at the end that its reporter "asked the group" several times if it was legit. That's Fox all over: taking the word of someone rather than actually fact checking when it suits their narrative.
And what a narrative it is: John Kerry is a metrosexual supported by Communists. Damn, what self-respecting NASCAR dad or security mom could vote for him? Since, really, the only way to truly understand the magnitude of sins is by comparison to the ways in which other sinners have been punished, let's contrast: CBS puts out a report that is factually accurate but contains the possibility of using forged documents. No one questions the veracity of the story itself, merely one of the sources. Result? CBS is said to be engaged in a smear of the President, the network is seen as discredited, and conservative commentators want Rather to resign. Fox, meanwhile, posts actual, unchecked lies about Kerry with no goal other to smear the Democrat. Result? Nada.
But we should expect more of this. Over on the Flatulence In Broadcasting network, Rush Limbaugh is screeching like a fat man looking for a Double Whopper and an angry fix, calling Kerry everything short of a molesting priest and a goat fucker. Of course, on Friday, Limbaugh intoned, "Not a single vote was probably changed last night. Not enough to matter in the polls. I fully expect, however, there to be polls from various places that show Kerry with a little bounce. You can almost predict that. This is not a dynamic changing debate last night." Oh, there's gonna be magnificent poll-spinning today on the Rush "Personal Ad: I've Got Saggy Tits and Quality Pharms" Limbaugh show.
Which cycles us back around to the beginning. Columnist after columnist will get Bush's back. Yesterday on Fox, Newt Gingrich, still clawing his way back to some vestige of the power he used to have, said that he had "never" seen the elite media react so viciously to a candidate. Yeah, yeah, ask Al Gore about that. But what all of these "commentators" forget is what some in the media and many in the public have realized: Sometimes the facts must be reported. Bush did himself in. The debate was merely the sufficient amount of rope. It was only a matter of time before he hanged himself.
Let's begin with a good pundit caveat: by no means is the election over, Gore got a bounce from the first debate last time, blah, blah, blah. But, you know, the right wing is losing its mind over the idea that Kerry has erased Bush's lead in the polls. Oh, how Karl Rove's leather slave that he keeps in the basement of the White House, right next to Andrew Jackson's collection of scalps, must have suffered Thursday night. How Rove, sweaty, smelling of open bar cosmos, took out the big, pointed dildo and, unlubricated, shoved it into his ecstatic leather slave's asshole, twisting it, shrieking, "I'm the master of spin. I'm the master of spin." Because Rove knows, he fucking knows in his heart of hearts, that he's lost just a bit of control, that he has played a high-wire act with the media and that he has stumbled, and maybe, just maybe, he will fall. And it's all because of that goddamned half-wit son of a bitch Bush, who Rove has dragged by his nuts through more vicious dogfights than a starving mutt in the streets of Rio. Rove is a madman in the sense that he is insane. Crazed. A demonic essence tinged with a human's capability to draw blood. And he's gonna strike back. If he's got anything left in his quill, he's gonna fire that motherfucker with everything he's got.
He's got Fox willing to do his bidding, now that the "news" network has tossed aside any semblance of fairness. It's the "news" network for the imbalanced. This past weekend, Fox showed just how fair it was with a pair of stories on its website that were fabrications and lies. First, in an article called "Trail Tales: What's That Face?" Fox "reporter" (if by "reporter" you mean "dogmatic cum breath ready to blow the Bush campaign again and again") Carl Cameron fabricated fun faux faggy quotes from Kerry like, "I'm a metrosexual -- he's a cowboy" and "Women should like me! I do manicures." Fox later retracted the quotes and apologized, saying that its reporter was suffering from "fatigue," as were, one assumes, all the editors and proofers who saw this before it went out. Josh Marshall asks all the relevant questions. Of course, it didn't help matters that the next day, Fox put up another article claiming the group "Communists for Kerry" was a legitimate organization that supported Kerry when, in fact, it is a parody group like Billionaires for Bush. Irony is not the strong suit at Fox, unless one considers the rantings of Bill O'Reilly and Sean Hannity long performance art pieces about the existence of irony. Fox has updated the article with an explanation at the end that its reporter "asked the group" several times if it was legit. That's Fox all over: taking the word of someone rather than actually fact checking when it suits their narrative.
And what a narrative it is: John Kerry is a metrosexual supported by Communists. Damn, what self-respecting NASCAR dad or security mom could vote for him? Since, really, the only way to truly understand the magnitude of sins is by comparison to the ways in which other sinners have been punished, let's contrast: CBS puts out a report that is factually accurate but contains the possibility of using forged documents. No one questions the veracity of the story itself, merely one of the sources. Result? CBS is said to be engaged in a smear of the President, the network is seen as discredited, and conservative commentators want Rather to resign. Fox, meanwhile, posts actual, unchecked lies about Kerry with no goal other to smear the Democrat. Result? Nada.
But we should expect more of this. Over on the Flatulence In Broadcasting network, Rush Limbaugh is screeching like a fat man looking for a Double Whopper and an angry fix, calling Kerry everything short of a molesting priest and a goat fucker. Of course, on Friday, Limbaugh intoned, "Not a single vote was probably changed last night. Not enough to matter in the polls. I fully expect, however, there to be polls from various places that show Kerry with a little bounce. You can almost predict that. This is not a dynamic changing debate last night." Oh, there's gonna be magnificent poll-spinning today on the Rush "Personal Ad: I've Got Saggy Tits and Quality Pharms" Limbaugh show.
Which cycles us back around to the beginning. Columnist after columnist will get Bush's back. Yesterday on Fox, Newt Gingrich, still clawing his way back to some vestige of the power he used to have, said that he had "never" seen the elite media react so viciously to a candidate. Yeah, yeah, ask Al Gore about that. But what all of these "commentators" forget is what some in the media and many in the public have realized: Sometimes the facts must be reported. Bush did himself in. The debate was merely the sufficient amount of rope. It was only a matter of time before he hanged himself.
Sunday, October 03, 2004
Super Special Sunday Edition - MSNBC Dicks Over Kerry::
So MSNBC has an article up on its website about Bush's mad rantings on John Kerry (more tomorrow on the increasingly paranoid right) and John Kerry's slamming of Bush on economic issues. Then, this weird fuckin' paragraph somewhere in the middle, pops up: "A Boston millionaire who has served in the U.S. Senate for two decades, Kerry said he shared the middle class's 'frustration that this administration seems to be in a constant state of denial that neglects the needs of these Americans.'" Seems like it's a far cry from the article's later characterization of Bush as "a fellow Yale graduate with a similar privileged upbringing." Compare those two: "A Boston millionaire who has served in the U.S. Senate for two decades" and "a fellow Yale graduate with a similar privileged upbring." While both are factually true, which sounds worse?
And, really, the Bush description is in the midst of a paragraph of Kerry saying Bush is out of touch with the middle class, thus explaining Kerry's statement. It works to clarify what Kerry is saying. The Kerry description is used to critique what Kerry is saying. It is not criticism attributed to anyone. It is simply stated as a fact to undermine Kerry's words. Nowhere in the article is such a tactic used on Bush.
For instance, imagine if this paragraph, a quote from Bush, "'Senator Kerry's approach to foreign policy would give foreign governments veto power over our national security decisions,' he said" ended with the phrase "despite agreeing to Pakistan's pardon of Dr. AQ Khan, who sold nuclear secrets to Iran and North Korea."
Now, which facts undermine an argument better?
So MSNBC has an article up on its website about Bush's mad rantings on John Kerry (more tomorrow on the increasingly paranoid right) and John Kerry's slamming of Bush on economic issues. Then, this weird fuckin' paragraph somewhere in the middle, pops up: "A Boston millionaire who has served in the U.S. Senate for two decades, Kerry said he shared the middle class's 'frustration that this administration seems to be in a constant state of denial that neglects the needs of these Americans.'" Seems like it's a far cry from the article's later characterization of Bush as "a fellow Yale graduate with a similar privileged upbringing." Compare those two: "A Boston millionaire who has served in the U.S. Senate for two decades" and "a fellow Yale graduate with a similar privileged upbring." While both are factually true, which sounds worse?
And, really, the Bush description is in the midst of a paragraph of Kerry saying Bush is out of touch with the middle class, thus explaining Kerry's statement. It works to clarify what Kerry is saying. The Kerry description is used to critique what Kerry is saying. It is not criticism attributed to anyone. It is simply stated as a fact to undermine Kerry's words. Nowhere in the article is such a tactic used on Bush.
For instance, imagine if this paragraph, a quote from Bush, "'Senator Kerry's approach to foreign policy would give foreign governments veto power over our national security decisions,' he said" ended with the phrase "despite agreeing to Pakistan's pardon of Dr. AQ Khan, who sold nuclear secrets to Iran and North Korea."
Now, which facts undermine an argument better?
Friday, October 01, 2004
Briefly Noted: About That Lying:
Absence is presence in this post-deconstructionist world, no? So, when Kerry declared that Bush misled the country into war with Iraq through lies about WMDs, al-Qaeda links, and use of force as a last resort, Bush should have defended against those accusations. He did not. Was that a tacit admission of misleading the country? In other words, if Bush's only defense is "He saw the same intelligence I did," Bush is, at the least, passing the buck (and Kerry didn't send the troops to Iraq), but, at the most, failing to explain his "misleading" statements.
Absence is presence in this post-deconstructionist world, no? So, when Kerry declared that Bush misled the country into war with Iraq through lies about WMDs, al-Qaeda links, and use of force as a last resort, Bush should have defended against those accusations. He did not. Was that a tacit admission of misleading the country? In other words, if Bush's only defense is "He saw the same intelligence I did," Bush is, at the least, passing the buck (and Kerry didn't send the troops to Iraq), but, at the most, failing to explain his "misleading" statements.
President Stupid:
The Rude Pundit may be vastly misinterpreting this part of the debate last night, but did President Bush say that he fucked an Iraq War widow in the White House? Here's Bush, trying to demonstrate how much he cares about American soldiers dying in Iraq: " I think about Missy Johnson. She's a fantastic lady I met in Charlotte, North Carolina. She and her son Brian, they came to see me. Her husband PJ got killed. He‘d been in Afghanistan, went to Iraq. You know, it's hard work to try to love her as best as I can, knowing full well that the decision I made caused her loved one to be in harm's way." So, like, using the Led Zeppelin test of the word "love," it appears that George W. Bush fucked Missy Johnson in the White House in front of her four year-old son. Wow. That's a man who really, really cares about the soldiers. New ad: President Bush: He'll send you to die, he won't attend your funeral, but he'll gently fuck your wife.
The Rude Pundit may be baffled by the rhetoric, but did the President actually say that he understands how "hard" war is because he watches it on TV? Said Bush, "And it's hard work. I understand how hard it is. I get the casualty reports every day. I see on the TV screens how hard it is." Motherfuck, the Rude Pundit occasionally watches Fear Factor, and he wouldn't claim he understands how hard it is to eat a pickled pig sphincter, let alone fight an urban war. And what TV screens is he watching? 'Cause, you know, unless he's been watching a bootleg DVD or download of Fahrenheit 9/11 or is tuned into Al-Jazeera, Bush ain't been seein' jackshit about what's really going on over in Iraq. When Bush is crouched down behind a burning Humvee trying to hold in the ripped-up guts of his buddy, trying to figure out when to time a run for help so he doesn't get shredded by the bullets whizzing all around him, then he can claim he understands how hard it is to be a soldier in a war. (In one of those "Goddamnit, Kerry" moments of screaming at the television, Kerry should have fired back at Bush, "You watch it on TV? Lemme show you a scar in my leg and you tell me who understands better how hard war is.")
The moment passed by in a blur, but did the President really say of his twins, "I'm trying to put a leash on them"? You see, context is a motherfucker. And you can't really talk about leashing humans without invoking Abu Ghraib, now, can you? Tempting an image as leashed Bush daughters down on all fours in the Rose Garden may be, you're really demonstrating just how unaware you are of the world you've created if you think you can make a leashing joke right about now. Kerry's reply, dry, but pointed, was, "I've learned not to do that."
Beyond the widow-fucking, daughter-leashing, TV-watching ways of the leader of the free world, really, and, c'mon, what we watched last night was a stupid man, our President. A petulant little rich fuck who had deigned to step down from his carefully scripted and stage managed events in order to dirty his shoes in the act of defending his policies. A privileged snotnose who couldn't be bothered with explaining himself, who was right simply because he said he was right and we can all go fuck ourselves if we believe otherwise. A king, don't you know. An emperor. And we saw through his fuckin' clothes, man, and what we saw was someone who flails and casts about for some point, desperately hoping for his two-minute answers to end, bumbling and fumbling until some name or wandering fact appeared in the miasma of his alcohol-damaged mind that he could spout out to comfort all of us that he actually knows something about his chosen profession. It's like when an inexperienced waiter appears at your table and tries to tell you the specials by heart, trying so fucking hard not to look at his cheat sheet, and when one word clicks in his head, like, say, "Short ribs," the waiter can then spout off about the sauce and sides. So it was with Bush, when he'd give that "Mr-President-We're-Under-Attack" look, staring into the distance as if Jesus was gonna spell the answers out in stars, floundering and drowning until the word "Allawi" or "Vladimir" bounced into his mouth and his synapses would generate the electricity that would prompt him into some rant or another.
The Rude Pundit was no fan of Ronald Reagan or George Bush, Sr., but you never got the feeling that they were actually, deep in their souls, stupid. You may have despised every word that they spoke, but you couldn't accuse them of simply being unable to comprehend the world around them. Watching W. last night sputter, stammer, smirk, squint, and sigh, one had to feel a deep unease at seeing this semi-coherent man fail at explaining away the deep failures of his administration's foreign policy. (And if someone doesn't make an ad of all of Bush's little quirky facial expressions and eye-rolling, then someone's not paying attention.)
John Kerry wasn't perfect. He misspoke (what was that about giving nuclear material to Iran?), he didn't deliver any great put-downs (and, Lord, oh, fuckin' lord, the opportunities were legion), and he missed several opportunities to demonstrate the lies of the Bush campaign (why the fuck didn't he bring up Bush's threatened veto of the $87 billion?). But Kerry looked like the goddamned President of the United States. He looked and spoke like the leader of a nation of nearly 300 million people, not the guy you don't even trust with the beer money for the keg party.
And when Kerry went to town, Kerry fucked Bush's shit up. Kerry took the Rude Pundit's advice and invoked the words of Bush, Sr., which was the first time in the debate that W. got agitated. Kerry demonstrated a command of concisely explaining a complex history and a strong position with his review of pre-Bush II policies toward North Korea. And Kerry kicked Bush's ass all over the stage on his answers to Darfur. Bush looked like such a small, small man each time he had to speak after Kerry, as if his artificially enhanced cock was retreating deeper and deeper into his body, which hunched over, turtle like, trying to withdraw from the scene.
This was the debate on foreign policy and homeland security, Bush's alleged strong areas. Kerry stood tall. He can't help it; he's a tall man. Bush tried to make himself smaller and smaller, as if he could make himself disappear and we could pretend he wasn't even there.
Quick P.S.: Someone's Paying Attention:
The DNC already has a video on its website called "The Faces of Frustration." Thanks to astute reader Nick for the heads up.
The Rude Pundit may be vastly misinterpreting this part of the debate last night, but did President Bush say that he fucked an Iraq War widow in the White House? Here's Bush, trying to demonstrate how much he cares about American soldiers dying in Iraq: " I think about Missy Johnson. She's a fantastic lady I met in Charlotte, North Carolina. She and her son Brian, they came to see me. Her husband PJ got killed. He‘d been in Afghanistan, went to Iraq. You know, it's hard work to try to love her as best as I can, knowing full well that the decision I made caused her loved one to be in harm's way." So, like, using the Led Zeppelin test of the word "love," it appears that George W. Bush fucked Missy Johnson in the White House in front of her four year-old son. Wow. That's a man who really, really cares about the soldiers. New ad: President Bush: He'll send you to die, he won't attend your funeral, but he'll gently fuck your wife.
The Rude Pundit may be baffled by the rhetoric, but did the President actually say that he understands how "hard" war is because he watches it on TV? Said Bush, "And it's hard work. I understand how hard it is. I get the casualty reports every day. I see on the TV screens how hard it is." Motherfuck, the Rude Pundit occasionally watches Fear Factor, and he wouldn't claim he understands how hard it is to eat a pickled pig sphincter, let alone fight an urban war. And what TV screens is he watching? 'Cause, you know, unless he's been watching a bootleg DVD or download of Fahrenheit 9/11 or is tuned into Al-Jazeera, Bush ain't been seein' jackshit about what's really going on over in Iraq. When Bush is crouched down behind a burning Humvee trying to hold in the ripped-up guts of his buddy, trying to figure out when to time a run for help so he doesn't get shredded by the bullets whizzing all around him, then he can claim he understands how hard it is to be a soldier in a war. (In one of those "Goddamnit, Kerry" moments of screaming at the television, Kerry should have fired back at Bush, "You watch it on TV? Lemme show you a scar in my leg and you tell me who understands better how hard war is.")
The moment passed by in a blur, but did the President really say of his twins, "I'm trying to put a leash on them"? You see, context is a motherfucker. And you can't really talk about leashing humans without invoking Abu Ghraib, now, can you? Tempting an image as leashed Bush daughters down on all fours in the Rose Garden may be, you're really demonstrating just how unaware you are of the world you've created if you think you can make a leashing joke right about now. Kerry's reply, dry, but pointed, was, "I've learned not to do that."
Beyond the widow-fucking, daughter-leashing, TV-watching ways of the leader of the free world, really, and, c'mon, what we watched last night was a stupid man, our President. A petulant little rich fuck who had deigned to step down from his carefully scripted and stage managed events in order to dirty his shoes in the act of defending his policies. A privileged snotnose who couldn't be bothered with explaining himself, who was right simply because he said he was right and we can all go fuck ourselves if we believe otherwise. A king, don't you know. An emperor. And we saw through his fuckin' clothes, man, and what we saw was someone who flails and casts about for some point, desperately hoping for his two-minute answers to end, bumbling and fumbling until some name or wandering fact appeared in the miasma of his alcohol-damaged mind that he could spout out to comfort all of us that he actually knows something about his chosen profession. It's like when an inexperienced waiter appears at your table and tries to tell you the specials by heart, trying so fucking hard not to look at his cheat sheet, and when one word clicks in his head, like, say, "Short ribs," the waiter can then spout off about the sauce and sides. So it was with Bush, when he'd give that "Mr-President-We're-Under-Attack" look, staring into the distance as if Jesus was gonna spell the answers out in stars, floundering and drowning until the word "Allawi" or "Vladimir" bounced into his mouth and his synapses would generate the electricity that would prompt him into some rant or another.
The Rude Pundit was no fan of Ronald Reagan or George Bush, Sr., but you never got the feeling that they were actually, deep in their souls, stupid. You may have despised every word that they spoke, but you couldn't accuse them of simply being unable to comprehend the world around them. Watching W. last night sputter, stammer, smirk, squint, and sigh, one had to feel a deep unease at seeing this semi-coherent man fail at explaining away the deep failures of his administration's foreign policy. (And if someone doesn't make an ad of all of Bush's little quirky facial expressions and eye-rolling, then someone's not paying attention.)
John Kerry wasn't perfect. He misspoke (what was that about giving nuclear material to Iran?), he didn't deliver any great put-downs (and, Lord, oh, fuckin' lord, the opportunities were legion), and he missed several opportunities to demonstrate the lies of the Bush campaign (why the fuck didn't he bring up Bush's threatened veto of the $87 billion?). But Kerry looked like the goddamned President of the United States. He looked and spoke like the leader of a nation of nearly 300 million people, not the guy you don't even trust with the beer money for the keg party.
And when Kerry went to town, Kerry fucked Bush's shit up. Kerry took the Rude Pundit's advice and invoked the words of Bush, Sr., which was the first time in the debate that W. got agitated. Kerry demonstrated a command of concisely explaining a complex history and a strong position with his review of pre-Bush II policies toward North Korea. And Kerry kicked Bush's ass all over the stage on his answers to Darfur. Bush looked like such a small, small man each time he had to speak after Kerry, as if his artificially enhanced cock was retreating deeper and deeper into his body, which hunched over, turtle like, trying to withdraw from the scene.
This was the debate on foreign policy and homeland security, Bush's alleged strong areas. Kerry stood tall. He can't help it; he's a tall man. Bush tried to make himself smaller and smaller, as if he could make himself disappear and we could pretend he wasn't even there.
Quick P.S.: Someone's Paying Attention:
The DNC already has a video on its website called "The Faces of Frustration." Thanks to astute reader Nick for the heads up.
Thursday, September 30, 2004
Why Bill O'Reilly Ought To Be Sodomized With a Microphone, Part 83:
What a spoogebag, what a cockmonger Bill O'Reilly is. Last week, O'Reilly promised, fuckin' swore, he wasn't gonna go easy on President Bush in the "interview" O'Reilly broadcast over the past three nights, 'cause, really, so much important "truth" telling was going on that we couldn't take it all in one night. Anyone with something that approaches sentient thought knew that the truth was gonna be O'Reilly gruffly asking softball questions, that he was gonna lap dance the President until Bush got a wet spot on his pants. Sure, sure, O'Reilly asked Bush about all the pertinent issues, but, really, and, c'mon, check this shit out: Night 1-"Only five percent of the Iraqi people see the United States as liberators. Are you surprised they don't appreciate the American sacrifice more?" From Night 2 - "What’s Chirac’s problem?" From Night 3 - "One of the big propaganda things against you is the classroom in Florida after 9/11 when Andrew Card came in and whispered in your ear . . . Let’s clear this up once and for all. What were you thinking?" Jesus, O'Reilly may as well have said, "Mr. President, I have this K-Y jelly and I'm going to lube up my asshole so you can penetrate me easily. And, please, while you're back there, feel free to smack my ass like it's Kim Jong-Il's face."
Does O'Reilly really believe his own bullshit? Does he believe that he really doesn't spin anything? Does he know the definition of spin? Does he not see that the words "sacrifice," "problem," and "propaganda" are spin words in those contexts? Is he so deranged, so full of his own rightness, so egomaniacal that he doesn't understand that all he did was give Bush a safe place to spout his lies, like a crazed child psychologist who manipulates kids into saying that they were molested? What kind of depraved, fucked-up world is this when a sanctimonious idiot can actually pretend to be a tough guy but only beats up on the powerless and still have viewers? Because, in the end, O'Reilly is one of those vicious bastards who others cling to even as he degrades them because they believe their ideological proximity to O'Reilly makes them vastly superior to themselves. In other words, stupid fuckers love O'Reilly 'cause they believe he ennobles them when, really, he's just laughing and pointing, laughing and pointing.
What a spoogebag, what a cockmonger Bill O'Reilly is. Last week, O'Reilly promised, fuckin' swore, he wasn't gonna go easy on President Bush in the "interview" O'Reilly broadcast over the past three nights, 'cause, really, so much important "truth" telling was going on that we couldn't take it all in one night. Anyone with something that approaches sentient thought knew that the truth was gonna be O'Reilly gruffly asking softball questions, that he was gonna lap dance the President until Bush got a wet spot on his pants. Sure, sure, O'Reilly asked Bush about all the pertinent issues, but, really, and, c'mon, check this shit out: Night 1-"Only five percent of the Iraqi people see the United States as liberators. Are you surprised they don't appreciate the American sacrifice more?" From Night 2 - "What’s Chirac’s problem?" From Night 3 - "One of the big propaganda things against you is the classroom in Florida after 9/11 when Andrew Card came in and whispered in your ear . . . Let’s clear this up once and for all. What were you thinking?" Jesus, O'Reilly may as well have said, "Mr. President, I have this K-Y jelly and I'm going to lube up my asshole so you can penetrate me easily. And, please, while you're back there, feel free to smack my ass like it's Kim Jong-Il's face."
Does O'Reilly really believe his own bullshit? Does he believe that he really doesn't spin anything? Does he know the definition of spin? Does he not see that the words "sacrifice," "problem," and "propaganda" are spin words in those contexts? Is he so deranged, so full of his own rightness, so egomaniacal that he doesn't understand that all he did was give Bush a safe place to spout his lies, like a crazed child psychologist who manipulates kids into saying that they were molested? What kind of depraved, fucked-up world is this when a sanctimonious idiot can actually pretend to be a tough guy but only beats up on the powerless and still have viewers? Because, in the end, O'Reilly is one of those vicious bastards who others cling to even as he degrades them because they believe their ideological proximity to O'Reilly makes them vastly superior to themselves. In other words, stupid fuckers love O'Reilly 'cause they believe he ennobles them when, really, he's just laughing and pointing, laughing and pointing.
What Kerry Should Say (Rude Version):
If, at tonight's "debate", when Kerry is asked, "What would you have done differently in Iraq?", he doesn't answer, "What the fuck kind of question is that, Jim? Jesus Christ, how many corpses of children need to be piled at the door of the White House to know that any reasonably well-trained terrier could do a better job managing this war than that motherfucker at the other podium? How many dead soldiers need to clog the pool at the 'ranch' in Crawford before anyone in this goddamned administration admits that things are more fucked-up than a thalidomide baby with warts? Here's what I would have fuckin' done different: Short answer - I wouldn't have fuckin' gone to Iraq, and if this squinty fuckface wants to accuse me of leaving Saddam Hussein in power, then he can fuckin' ask the mom of some kid blasted to shit by a roadside bomb if she gives a rat's ass whether or not Saddam's in power and Iraq is gonna have fake elections to prop up its fake ass government. Long answer? Yer askin' me a fantasy question, Jim, and if you wanna get into fantasy, here's my fuckin' fantasy - so get your wish-fulfillment bell ringin': I'd've gotten a large gay black man to get into William Rehnquist's shower back in late November 2000 and had him scare the Chief Justice into a coma with his raging black hard-on. I'd've fuckin' sent the SEC probin' Bush's asshole for evidence that he fucked over the shareholders of Harken. I'd've sent his fuckin' drunken, coked-out, duty-skippin' ass to Vietnam, where the men of his platoon would've used him for practice before raping the village girls in the Mekong. I'd've yanked down his pants at a Skull and Bones meeting and paddled his butt bright red with the wooden plank that had 'Bitch' carved in it so the word would be scarred on his ass forever. I'd've spiked pregnant Barbara Bush's drink with an abortifacient so she would eject the goo that would become George W in her womb. I'd've gotten George, Sr.'s nuts ripped off when he ejected from his fighter jet. I'd've made sure Prescott's dick was mustard gassed into disuse in the Meuse-Argonne. That's what I would have done differently in Iraq. Now, you little semi-conscious cuntface, get Karl Rove to shove a talking point up your ass about that or do you want me to make you suck my cock in front of a national audience?", then the debate will be worthless.
If, at tonight's "debate", when Kerry is asked, "What would you have done differently in Iraq?", he doesn't answer, "What the fuck kind of question is that, Jim? Jesus Christ, how many corpses of children need to be piled at the door of the White House to know that any reasonably well-trained terrier could do a better job managing this war than that motherfucker at the other podium? How many dead soldiers need to clog the pool at the 'ranch' in Crawford before anyone in this goddamned administration admits that things are more fucked-up than a thalidomide baby with warts? Here's what I would have fuckin' done different: Short answer - I wouldn't have fuckin' gone to Iraq, and if this squinty fuckface wants to accuse me of leaving Saddam Hussein in power, then he can fuckin' ask the mom of some kid blasted to shit by a roadside bomb if she gives a rat's ass whether or not Saddam's in power and Iraq is gonna have fake elections to prop up its fake ass government. Long answer? Yer askin' me a fantasy question, Jim, and if you wanna get into fantasy, here's my fuckin' fantasy - so get your wish-fulfillment bell ringin': I'd've gotten a large gay black man to get into William Rehnquist's shower back in late November 2000 and had him scare the Chief Justice into a coma with his raging black hard-on. I'd've fuckin' sent the SEC probin' Bush's asshole for evidence that he fucked over the shareholders of Harken. I'd've sent his fuckin' drunken, coked-out, duty-skippin' ass to Vietnam, where the men of his platoon would've used him for practice before raping the village girls in the Mekong. I'd've yanked down his pants at a Skull and Bones meeting and paddled his butt bright red with the wooden plank that had 'Bitch' carved in it so the word would be scarred on his ass forever. I'd've spiked pregnant Barbara Bush's drink with an abortifacient so she would eject the goo that would become George W in her womb. I'd've gotten George, Sr.'s nuts ripped off when he ejected from his fighter jet. I'd've made sure Prescott's dick was mustard gassed into disuse in the Meuse-Argonne. That's what I would have done differently in Iraq. Now, you little semi-conscious cuntface, get Karl Rove to shove a talking point up your ass about that or do you want me to make you suck my cock in front of a national audience?", then the debate will be worthless.
Why William Saletan at Slate Can Go Fuck Himself:
'Cause, among all the "advice" to John Kerry for the debates, Saletan here gives the worst: "The other day, in an ad lib, [Kerry] called [Bush] a liar. Don't do that again." No, no, fuck no. It's time for Kerry to use the words "lie" and "liar" because Bush demonstrably lies. It'll be such a shock that it'll force the media to have to see if Kerry is telling the truth about Bush. "Liar" is much worse than "flip-flopper," no? By not publicly calling Bush out, Kerry is just another Democratic pussy, afraid of graphically stating the truth about his opponent.
Later Today:
Duty calls this morning. Back this afternoon with how Kerry should answer one key foreign policy question and on the necessity to sodomize Bill O'Reilly with a microphone.
'Cause, among all the "advice" to John Kerry for the debates, Saletan here gives the worst: "The other day, in an ad lib, [Kerry] called [Bush] a liar. Don't do that again." No, no, fuck no. It's time for Kerry to use the words "lie" and "liar" because Bush demonstrably lies. It'll be such a shock that it'll force the media to have to see if Kerry is telling the truth about Bush. "Liar" is much worse than "flip-flopper," no? By not publicly calling Bush out, Kerry is just another Democratic pussy, afraid of graphically stating the truth about his opponent.
Later Today:
Duty calls this morning. Back this afternoon with how Kerry should answer one key foreign policy question and on the necessity to sodomize Bill O'Reilly with a microphone.
Wednesday, September 29, 2004
What a Desperate Nation Wants To Know . . .:
Last Friday, the Rude Pundit offered this as his debate question for George W. Bush: "Mr. President, do you believe Jews, Muslims, and others who die without accepting Jesus Christ as their savior will be allowed into Heaven?" Then the Rude Pundit asked for you to send your debate questions. And who'd have thought how desperate the electorate was to find out something, anything, from their fearless leader? What the large amount of e-mail says is that a significant part of the American population, which Bush seems to have forgotten he also "leads," simply cannot abide by an administration that hides the truth like Jeffrey Dahmer hid the half-eaten body parts in the fridge. Inundated with far, far too many suggestions to publish here, below are some of the best, most of which are directed at the President.
By far, the most popular question was some variation around the possibility of a post-election draft:
David Chapman asks, "When are you going to re-instate the draft?" while Thomas Beck wants to know of the debators, "Will you categorically promise not to reinstitute a draft?"
Of course, some readers wanted to find out what Jenna and Barbara, hot twins of viscous evil, would do in case of a draft or during the endless war. Sandra Latiolais writes, "I would like to know why those two patriotic daughters of the patriotic first family aren't serving in the military." Puttin' the spin to the question, Mitch asks of Bush, "Are your daughters excited about joining the military?"
And others wanted to know more, far more, about George Bush's illustrious career in the military and how it affects his current decision-making process. Asks Neil Vincent, "How does it feel to send so many young men and women off to war in Iraq when you used your family's power and influence to avoid going to war in Vietnam?"
The issue of Bush's proclaimed Jesus-lovin' ways provoked these variations on the Rude Pundit's question:
Dave Chekouras asks of both candidates, "Are you a Christian first or an American first?" which is a kick-ass, succinct little question. Seamus Ennis poses to the President, "Do you believe that God loves non-Christians with oil reserves more than non-Christians without them?" And David Stabb narrows the field of dead non-Christians to this: "Do you believe that Jewish, Muslim, agnostic and other American soldiers who have not accepted Jesus as their personal savior and that have been killed in Iraq will be allowed into Heaven?" (which is also a variation on something that Ron Reagan, Jr. asked recently).
Along other religious lines, CAG asks, "Since you are a man of faith and certainly must find much guidance in the practice of the Ten Commandments, which Commandment do you find the most difficult to obey and which one do you most regret breaking?"
Here's a few short and sweet questions:
From Spencer Erikson: "Why haven't you gone to any of the funerals of the dead soldiers who fought in Iraq?"
From R. Scott Strahan: "Mr. Bush, do you believe, as Sheri Dew espoused at your convention, that supporting same-sex families is the same as supporting Hitler?"
From Sarah: "Would you say that the life of an American is worth more, less, or about the same as the life of an Iraqi?"
From Dick Hoyer (which, strangely enough, sounds like a job at a gay brothel): "I have a brother in Alabama that needs help with a drug clinic. Can you give me the name of one you might know well?"
From Jon: "Mr. Bush, how much does a gallon of gasoline cost today?" (which is a nice throwback to Poppy Bush and his astonishment at supermarket barcode scanners).
From J: "When did Andrew Sullivan stop sucking your cock? And, as a follow-up, sir, have you ever sucked his?" (Important as this follow-up is, the debate commission's rules prohibit the asking of follow-up questions.)
From James: "Are Karl Rove's arms long enough to reach around and jack you off as he fucks you?"
Around the Iraq War, W. Shaman wants to know, "Did you pick a fight on old weakened Saddam, who reminds you of your mother and who could make you look good, because you knew you would be outed as the pussy you are when it comes to standing up to the lethal Osama?" Alan Aimer demands of the President, "Have you misled the country about the level of resistance in Iraq?" while Irina asks an obvious question that the press hasn't been asking at all, but which seems to bear importantly on the rhetoric of the White House: "Can you explain why Americans are safer with Saddam in prison?"
And John King reminds us of the following quote from al-Qaeda, given after the Madrid bombing in March: In the only explicit endorsement of any candidate, the terrorist spokesman said, "Kerry will kill our nation while it sleeps because he and the Democrats have the cunning to embellish blasphemy and present it to the Arab and Muslim nation as civilisation. Because of this we desire you (Bush) to be elected." King asks, "How do you respond to terrorists who have said they want you to win?"
A pair of Poppy Bush-related questions: Bob Goodsell inquires, "Your father said that people who disclose the identities of CIA agents are the most insidious of traitors. One of these traitors has been operating in your administration for over a year now. Why haven't you done anything about it?" and Justy asks, "Does 'Honor they father' mean not letting him speak at the Republican National Convention?"
A pair of Laura-related questions: Spencer says, "Mr. President, your wife is a former librarian. Your mother championed literacy when she was first lady. Given these two facts, it seems logical that you should be quite accomplished in reading and writing. Why then do you rely on all of your aides for information about the outside world? Why don't you read?" and from Tom Street: "President Bush, when you fuck Laura, is it purely for pleasure?"
And, finally, the Rude Pundit's favorite question, Ian asks, simply, eloquently, of the President:
"What is the moral of My Pet Goat?"
There will be more next week, before the next debate, so keep the questions coming to rudepundit@yahoo.com.
Last Friday, the Rude Pundit offered this as his debate question for George W. Bush: "Mr. President, do you believe Jews, Muslims, and others who die without accepting Jesus Christ as their savior will be allowed into Heaven?" Then the Rude Pundit asked for you to send your debate questions. And who'd have thought how desperate the electorate was to find out something, anything, from their fearless leader? What the large amount of e-mail says is that a significant part of the American population, which Bush seems to have forgotten he also "leads," simply cannot abide by an administration that hides the truth like Jeffrey Dahmer hid the half-eaten body parts in the fridge. Inundated with far, far too many suggestions to publish here, below are some of the best, most of which are directed at the President.
By far, the most popular question was some variation around the possibility of a post-election draft:
David Chapman asks, "When are you going to re-instate the draft?" while Thomas Beck wants to know of the debators, "Will you categorically promise not to reinstitute a draft?"
Of course, some readers wanted to find out what Jenna and Barbara, hot twins of viscous evil, would do in case of a draft or during the endless war. Sandra Latiolais writes, "I would like to know why those two patriotic daughters of the patriotic first family aren't serving in the military." Puttin' the spin to the question, Mitch asks of Bush, "Are your daughters excited about joining the military?"
And others wanted to know more, far more, about George Bush's illustrious career in the military and how it affects his current decision-making process. Asks Neil Vincent, "How does it feel to send so many young men and women off to war in Iraq when you used your family's power and influence to avoid going to war in Vietnam?"
The issue of Bush's proclaimed Jesus-lovin' ways provoked these variations on the Rude Pundit's question:
Dave Chekouras asks of both candidates, "Are you a Christian first or an American first?" which is a kick-ass, succinct little question. Seamus Ennis poses to the President, "Do you believe that God loves non-Christians with oil reserves more than non-Christians without them?" And David Stabb narrows the field of dead non-Christians to this: "Do you believe that Jewish, Muslim, agnostic and other American soldiers who have not accepted Jesus as their personal savior and that have been killed in Iraq will be allowed into Heaven?" (which is also a variation on something that Ron Reagan, Jr. asked recently).
Along other religious lines, CAG asks, "Since you are a man of faith and certainly must find much guidance in the practice of the Ten Commandments, which Commandment do you find the most difficult to obey and which one do you most regret breaking?"
Here's a few short and sweet questions:
From Spencer Erikson: "Why haven't you gone to any of the funerals of the dead soldiers who fought in Iraq?"
From R. Scott Strahan: "Mr. Bush, do you believe, as Sheri Dew espoused at your convention, that supporting same-sex families is the same as supporting Hitler?"
From Sarah: "Would you say that the life of an American is worth more, less, or about the same as the life of an Iraqi?"
From Dick Hoyer (which, strangely enough, sounds like a job at a gay brothel): "I have a brother in Alabama that needs help with a drug clinic. Can you give me the name of one you might know well?"
From Jon: "Mr. Bush, how much does a gallon of gasoline cost today?" (which is a nice throwback to Poppy Bush and his astonishment at supermarket barcode scanners).
From J: "When did Andrew Sullivan stop sucking your cock? And, as a follow-up, sir, have you ever sucked his?" (Important as this follow-up is, the debate commission's rules prohibit the asking of follow-up questions.)
From James: "Are Karl Rove's arms long enough to reach around and jack you off as he fucks you?"
Around the Iraq War, W. Shaman wants to know, "Did you pick a fight on old weakened Saddam, who reminds you of your mother and who could make you look good, because you knew you would be outed as the pussy you are when it comes to standing up to the lethal Osama?" Alan Aimer demands of the President, "Have you misled the country about the level of resistance in Iraq?" while Irina asks an obvious question that the press hasn't been asking at all, but which seems to bear importantly on the rhetoric of the White House: "Can you explain why Americans are safer with Saddam in prison?"
And John King reminds us of the following quote from al-Qaeda, given after the Madrid bombing in March: In the only explicit endorsement of any candidate, the terrorist spokesman said, "Kerry will kill our nation while it sleeps because he and the Democrats have the cunning to embellish blasphemy and present it to the Arab and Muslim nation as civilisation. Because of this we desire you (Bush) to be elected." King asks, "How do you respond to terrorists who have said they want you to win?"
A pair of Poppy Bush-related questions: Bob Goodsell inquires, "Your father said that people who disclose the identities of CIA agents are the most insidious of traitors. One of these traitors has been operating in your administration for over a year now. Why haven't you done anything about it?" and Justy asks, "Does 'Honor they father' mean not letting him speak at the Republican National Convention?"
A pair of Laura-related questions: Spencer says, "Mr. President, your wife is a former librarian. Your mother championed literacy when she was first lady. Given these two facts, it seems logical that you should be quite accomplished in reading and writing. Why then do you rely on all of your aides for information about the outside world? Why don't you read?" and from Tom Street: "President Bush, when you fuck Laura, is it purely for pleasure?"
And, finally, the Rude Pundit's favorite question, Ian asks, simply, eloquently, of the President:
"What is the moral of My Pet Goat?"
There will be more next week, before the next debate, so keep the questions coming to rudepundit@yahoo.com.
Tuesday, September 28, 2004
A Trip Down Memory Lane With John Kerry:
Archives are an amazing thing. It lets you explore things like, well, how consistent any single politician has been on any subject. Bush flaps his arms like a parrot with his wings cut and says, endlessly, that Kerry "doesn't know where he stands" on Iraq. The problem here is that Kerry has been remarkably consistent in his views, going back nearly a decade:
From the Boston Globe, September 4, 1996: On President Clinton's decision to bomb Iraq for its recent assaults on a Kurdish area, Kerry said, "I approve of the actions taken by the President. I do believe we have to take tough action with Saddam. It's the only language he understands."
From the Boston Globe, February 23, 1998: "Senator John F. Kerry . . . said yesterday that the United States should use ground troops to topple Iraqi President Saddam Hussein if he does not comply with international demands to give up chemical and biological weapons . . . Kerry said sending U.S. troops into Iraq should be 'the last option, but it is a legitimate option.' He said the United States should aim to remove Hussein only 'within the framework of international law -- in other words, if he remains obdurate and in violation of the United Nations resolutions, and in a position of threat to the world community.
"Kerry said his conditional support for using ground troops put him 'way ahead of the commander in chief, and I'm probably way ahead of my colleagues, and certainly much of the country' . . . Kerry said his position on Iraq is consistent with his Vietnam War experience. 'The lessons I learned are that if you're going to commit young people to fight, make sure you've got an objective and it's achievable, and it meets the needs of your country.'"
And, for shits and giggles, here's Kerry on terrorism, its threat, and solutions:
From the Boston Globe, August 3, 1996: On the Republican-led House of Representatives' version of an anti-terrorism bill, Kerry said many tools such as more extensive wiretap techniques and guerilla tactics were included in the Senate version of the bill, but removed by the House in the name of civil liberties and saving money: "There is a much larger confrontation with the Republican agenda. They are, 'Cut, cut, cut,' pretending you don't have to do anything."
From CNN, September 12, 2001: Kerry said, "I have no doubt in my mind it's Osama Bin Laden. . . It's very much in keeping with the threats he has made. The intelligence community has known all summer they have building up for some kind of attack."
"Kerry said a number of attempted attacks, or plans for attacks, have been 'thwarted' this summer. He said he was briefed by CIA Director George Tenet on this a few weeks ago."
This has been the problem all along in Kerry failing to run on his record in the Senate - he was a motherfucking statesman, a real one, who grappled with real issues, for years. He didn't go from 'Nam to presidential candidate. Kerry's own words are the clearest rejoinder to charges that he has lacked clear positions on Iraq. Kerry was a hawk, but a responsible hawk. He was not an appeaser. He was not beholden to his party. He just decided back then, and to this day, that we shouldn't dis the rest of the world, and we shouldn't, fer chrissake, run into this thing like a Peoria drag queen at make-up close-out day at the JC Penney's in the mall.
Keep On Bringin' It:
There's now well over a hundred suggestions for questions for the debate. Keep sendin' 'em to rudepundit@yahoo.com. Tomorrow, the best, the worst, the rudest.
Archives are an amazing thing. It lets you explore things like, well, how consistent any single politician has been on any subject. Bush flaps his arms like a parrot with his wings cut and says, endlessly, that Kerry "doesn't know where he stands" on Iraq. The problem here is that Kerry has been remarkably consistent in his views, going back nearly a decade:
From the Boston Globe, September 4, 1996: On President Clinton's decision to bomb Iraq for its recent assaults on a Kurdish area, Kerry said, "I approve of the actions taken by the President. I do believe we have to take tough action with Saddam. It's the only language he understands."
From the Boston Globe, February 23, 1998: "Senator John F. Kerry . . . said yesterday that the United States should use ground troops to topple Iraqi President Saddam Hussein if he does not comply with international demands to give up chemical and biological weapons . . . Kerry said sending U.S. troops into Iraq should be 'the last option, but it is a legitimate option.' He said the United States should aim to remove Hussein only 'within the framework of international law -- in other words, if he remains obdurate and in violation of the United Nations resolutions, and in a position of threat to the world community.
"Kerry said his conditional support for using ground troops put him 'way ahead of the commander in chief, and I'm probably way ahead of my colleagues, and certainly much of the country' . . . Kerry said his position on Iraq is consistent with his Vietnam War experience. 'The lessons I learned are that if you're going to commit young people to fight, make sure you've got an objective and it's achievable, and it meets the needs of your country.'"
And, for shits and giggles, here's Kerry on terrorism, its threat, and solutions:
From the Boston Globe, August 3, 1996: On the Republican-led House of Representatives' version of an anti-terrorism bill, Kerry said many tools such as more extensive wiretap techniques and guerilla tactics were included in the Senate version of the bill, but removed by the House in the name of civil liberties and saving money: "There is a much larger confrontation with the Republican agenda. They are, 'Cut, cut, cut,' pretending you don't have to do anything."
From CNN, September 12, 2001: Kerry said, "I have no doubt in my mind it's Osama Bin Laden. . . It's very much in keeping with the threats he has made. The intelligence community has known all summer they have building up for some kind of attack."
"Kerry said a number of attempted attacks, or plans for attacks, have been 'thwarted' this summer. He said he was briefed by CIA Director George Tenet on this a few weeks ago."
This has been the problem all along in Kerry failing to run on his record in the Senate - he was a motherfucking statesman, a real one, who grappled with real issues, for years. He didn't go from 'Nam to presidential candidate. Kerry's own words are the clearest rejoinder to charges that he has lacked clear positions on Iraq. Kerry was a hawk, but a responsible hawk. He was not an appeaser. He was not beholden to his party. He just decided back then, and to this day, that we shouldn't dis the rest of the world, and we shouldn't, fer chrissake, run into this thing like a Peoria drag queen at make-up close-out day at the JC Penney's in the mall.
Keep On Bringin' It:
There's now well over a hundred suggestions for questions for the debate. Keep sendin' 'em to rudepundit@yahoo.com. Tomorrow, the best, the worst, the rudest.
Monday, September 27, 2004
To the Media - Protect Your Asses, Not Your Assets:
Starting tonight, Bill O'Reilly's Fox "news" show will feature an interview done by O'Reilly with President Bush. The thirty-minute interview will be stretched over three nights, no doubt interrupted by O'Reilly praising himself for how "hard-hitting" his questions are, as well as copious Scott Peterson updates and Dan Rather bashing. However "tough" O'Reilly's questions may seem, in the end, Bush will stay on script and O'Reilly will be wiping the presidential spooge off his lips, begging Bush to be balls deep in his face once again. Let's be clear here: the reason this interview is being broadcast the way it's being done is as a build-up to the debate on Thursday night. Fox dances the Rove rumba, shakin' their maracas whenever they get the order.
Meanwhile, across town, CBS has decided that the best way to get over the whole memo conflagration is to avoid any further criticism of the President until after the election. See, CBS was supposed to run a story on 60 Minutes about the Bush administration's use of the forged Niger documents as a pretext for war. Now, fearing its credibility has been damaged by the story that ran in its stead, Rather's Killian memos and Barnes interview, CBS is damaging its credibility to the breaking point by deep-sixing the Niger debacle story until after the election, at the least. CBS has it exactly, absolutely wrong when its spokesperson said, "We now believe it would be inappropriate to air the report so close to the presidential election." No, in fact, and let's be clear again: it would inappropriate and possibly murderous to not broadcast the story. It's just more of the same, more of the same for this administration: no matter how many soldiers are dead and dying, it never has to be questioned about its actions (and a Bill O'Reilly hummer, however toothy it might be, doesn't count). To quash any stories that might mitigate or prevent any deaths means that one is complicitous in the continued slaughter.
There's not much time left here before November 2, so let's make something perfectly plain: a second Bush administration will engage in a serious abridgement of the freedoms of press and speech through law and intimidation. The thing is, with the Foxization of news, it won't seem like anything's changed to the general public, who will be told to blame dwindling numbers of Democrats on their ills. At some point, journalists need to understand that they cannot allow the administration to get to November 2 without answering for itself. Between the secrecy on meetings and documents to denial of access to reporters who would question to its discrediting of anyone who opposes them, real journalists have got to see the writing on the wall: play by our rules, says the administration, or you will not get to play.
Sometimes people in professions that affect the public at large have to take actions that are in their self-interest, actions that seem, on their surface, to be harmful to the profession itself, but actions that, ultimately, are good for everyone. A teacher's strike is an example of that. Teachers walking out of the classroom is not a good thing. But teachers have to feed their kids, and a satisfied, well-paid teacher is simply a better teacher.
So it's time for journalists, mainstream journalists on networks and large publications, to get selfish - by simply telling the truth about the Bush administration, by not letting them off the hook on answering about the war, the economy, and more, you will be protecting the future of your jobs and the future of a truly free press in America. It's a slippery slope from saying that John Kerry's honesty about the war gives comfort to the enemy to saying that any truthful reporting does the same. This ain't conspiracy theory. You know, and, c'mon, we've been down this road before - ask Walter Cronkite, fer fuck's sake. Ask anyone who challenged McCarthy until Murrow had the balls to take him down. Journalism is supposed to serve the public, not the powerful. The powerful have their messengers. Journalists are supposed to be the arbiters for the public good, not spokespeople for the powerful.
So this one is for the journalists or the ones who like to refer to themselves as such. It ain't for your corporate masters. Use whatever remaining shred of self-respect you have for the act of telling the truth to the public. It's time to get rid of the illusion of "balance" and report the facts. And confront those who oppose the facts. And fuck hedging on the facts. If you don't, then Fox "News" and Murdoch and Ailes win, and that way lies madness.
Joe Biden Will Fuck Your Shit Up:
Democratic Senator Joe Biden made the rounds of the gabfests yesterday, and on Fox "News," Biden bared those fuckin' teeth again and ripped out Chris Wallace's jugular vein and danced around in the shower of Wallace's spurting blood. Here's Biden:: "I find the way the opposition is dealing with this is really, really dangerous. They're telling everybody that basically if Kerry becomes president of the United States, he's not going to stick with Iraq . . . these guys so misrepresent things, it just is disgraceful." Every time Wallace tried to pin down Biden on some presumed inconsistency about John Kerry, Biden turned it back on Wallace, treating Wallace like a street whore who's skimmed too much from her pimp. Wallace couldn't end the interview fast enough.
Bring It On:
The Rude Pundit has received dozens of possible debate questions. We'll be posting the best on Wednesday. So keep 'em coming. The more the better. Rude, crude, or rational or some combination of the above - send it all: rudepundit@yahoo.com.
Starting tonight, Bill O'Reilly's Fox "news" show will feature an interview done by O'Reilly with President Bush. The thirty-minute interview will be stretched over three nights, no doubt interrupted by O'Reilly praising himself for how "hard-hitting" his questions are, as well as copious Scott Peterson updates and Dan Rather bashing. However "tough" O'Reilly's questions may seem, in the end, Bush will stay on script and O'Reilly will be wiping the presidential spooge off his lips, begging Bush to be balls deep in his face once again. Let's be clear here: the reason this interview is being broadcast the way it's being done is as a build-up to the debate on Thursday night. Fox dances the Rove rumba, shakin' their maracas whenever they get the order.
Meanwhile, across town, CBS has decided that the best way to get over the whole memo conflagration is to avoid any further criticism of the President until after the election. See, CBS was supposed to run a story on 60 Minutes about the Bush administration's use of the forged Niger documents as a pretext for war. Now, fearing its credibility has been damaged by the story that ran in its stead, Rather's Killian memos and Barnes interview, CBS is damaging its credibility to the breaking point by deep-sixing the Niger debacle story until after the election, at the least. CBS has it exactly, absolutely wrong when its spokesperson said, "We now believe it would be inappropriate to air the report so close to the presidential election." No, in fact, and let's be clear again: it would inappropriate and possibly murderous to not broadcast the story. It's just more of the same, more of the same for this administration: no matter how many soldiers are dead and dying, it never has to be questioned about its actions (and a Bill O'Reilly hummer, however toothy it might be, doesn't count). To quash any stories that might mitigate or prevent any deaths means that one is complicitous in the continued slaughter.
There's not much time left here before November 2, so let's make something perfectly plain: a second Bush administration will engage in a serious abridgement of the freedoms of press and speech through law and intimidation. The thing is, with the Foxization of news, it won't seem like anything's changed to the general public, who will be told to blame dwindling numbers of Democrats on their ills. At some point, journalists need to understand that they cannot allow the administration to get to November 2 without answering for itself. Between the secrecy on meetings and documents to denial of access to reporters who would question to its discrediting of anyone who opposes them, real journalists have got to see the writing on the wall: play by our rules, says the administration, or you will not get to play.
Sometimes people in professions that affect the public at large have to take actions that are in their self-interest, actions that seem, on their surface, to be harmful to the profession itself, but actions that, ultimately, are good for everyone. A teacher's strike is an example of that. Teachers walking out of the classroom is not a good thing. But teachers have to feed their kids, and a satisfied, well-paid teacher is simply a better teacher.
So it's time for journalists, mainstream journalists on networks and large publications, to get selfish - by simply telling the truth about the Bush administration, by not letting them off the hook on answering about the war, the economy, and more, you will be protecting the future of your jobs and the future of a truly free press in America. It's a slippery slope from saying that John Kerry's honesty about the war gives comfort to the enemy to saying that any truthful reporting does the same. This ain't conspiracy theory. You know, and, c'mon, we've been down this road before - ask Walter Cronkite, fer fuck's sake. Ask anyone who challenged McCarthy until Murrow had the balls to take him down. Journalism is supposed to serve the public, not the powerful. The powerful have their messengers. Journalists are supposed to be the arbiters for the public good, not spokespeople for the powerful.
So this one is for the journalists or the ones who like to refer to themselves as such. It ain't for your corporate masters. Use whatever remaining shred of self-respect you have for the act of telling the truth to the public. It's time to get rid of the illusion of "balance" and report the facts. And confront those who oppose the facts. And fuck hedging on the facts. If you don't, then Fox "News" and Murdoch and Ailes win, and that way lies madness.
Joe Biden Will Fuck Your Shit Up:
Democratic Senator Joe Biden made the rounds of the gabfests yesterday, and on Fox "News," Biden bared those fuckin' teeth again and ripped out Chris Wallace's jugular vein and danced around in the shower of Wallace's spurting blood. Here's Biden:: "I find the way the opposition is dealing with this is really, really dangerous. They're telling everybody that basically if Kerry becomes president of the United States, he's not going to stick with Iraq . . . these guys so misrepresent things, it just is disgraceful." Every time Wallace tried to pin down Biden on some presumed inconsistency about John Kerry, Biden turned it back on Wallace, treating Wallace like a street whore who's skimmed too much from her pimp. Wallace couldn't end the interview fast enough.
Bring It On:
The Rude Pundit has received dozens of possible debate questions. We'll be posting the best on Wednesday. So keep 'em coming. The more the better. Rude, crude, or rational or some combination of the above - send it all: rudepundit@yahoo.com.
Saturday, September 25, 2004
Rude Pundit Correction - Because Admitting Error Is the Only Way To Be Trusted:
Yesterday's post on the debate and where the candidates are prepping contained a location error. John Kerry is not prepping in Boston. He is doing his homework in Wisconsin, where he may also attend campaign events.
Astute reader Barry gets the Poindexter of the Week Award for alerting the Rude Pundit to this mistake. The previous post has been corrected to reflect the change of location.
Keep the debate questions coming. Several dozen have already been sent in. Unlike Salon, which is asking for debate questions, too, the Rude Pundit will print both the smart and the rude.
Yesterday's post on the debate and where the candidates are prepping contained a location error. John Kerry is not prepping in Boston. He is doing his homework in Wisconsin, where he may also attend campaign events.
Astute reader Barry gets the Poindexter of the Week Award for alerting the Rude Pundit to this mistake. The previous post has been corrected to reflect the change of location.
Keep the debate questions coming. Several dozen have already been sent in. Unlike Salon, which is asking for debate questions, too, the Rude Pundit will print both the smart and the rude.
Friday, September 24, 2004
Debate or Debase? - One Question For Bush:
Oh, how the next few days are gonna be intense ones at the ranch in Crawford for our President as he preps for the first of three debates, to be held next Thursday, September 30. Karl Rove is shinin' his cattle prod, ready to shove it into Bush's haunches whenever Bush goes off script. Man, Bush will wonder, can't a man just pay someone to do this debatin' for him? Like back at Yale? Yeah, there's gonna be a lotta broken pencils, all-nighters, Krispy Kreme runs, and sweaty brows as they try to triangulate around whatever they predict Kerry'll say. (Kerry is gonna be in Wisconsin this weekend, doin' his own prep.)
Next week will be filled with advice and predictions. We'll hear the well-worn lie that Bush "won" the debates with Al Gore, which, if you mean "Told lies with a straight face" and "Didn't fling actual feces at the questioners while smacking the podium with his cock and screeching to Jesus to coke him up so he could make it through one answer without breaking down into blubbering monosyllabic grunts and sobs," yeah, sure, Bush won. If, however, you mean, "Gave coherent, substantive answers backed up by facts," well, you're pretty hard pressed to prove Bush prevailed. We'll also hear how masterful a debater Kerry is, so everyone will expect the President to fling shit, smack the podium with his cock, screech to Jesus, and blubber grunts and sobs. That way, when Bush doesn't fling, smack, screech, and blubber, he'll have defeated that "great debater."
There's a website called "Just One Question," which boils Bush down to a single thing issue that might be asked at a press conference, interview, or, say, a debate: "How many times have you been arrested?" It's a fine question, but it ain't an election winner.
The Rude Pundit has his own one simple question that needs to be asked specifically at a debate because it's about character, policy, and leadership in the here and now: Mr. President, do you believe Jews, Muslims, and others who die without accepting Jesus Christ as their savior will be allowed into Heaven?
That's a "let's-put-our-cards-on-the-table" question. It risks alienating a whole fuckin' lot of people with the answer. To answer "Yes" or anything squishy about loving everyone will wreck Bush's base. To answer "No" would wreck any chance with moderates. And, besides, here's the bonus: it's a legitimate question because it lets us know what is guiding the President in his decision-making and attitudes. In fact, it's a more relevant question than any about the National Guard. Now, does any moderator have the balls to ask?
Let's open this up: send your ideas for a single debate question to ask Bush that you think would devastate him or his campaign. The best will be posted next week. Send to rudepundit@yahoo.com.
The Rude Pundit, meanwhile, will be awaiting the call from the Kerry campaign to head over to Cheeseburg to help the candidate delicately eviscerate his opponent.
Oh, how the next few days are gonna be intense ones at the ranch in Crawford for our President as he preps for the first of three debates, to be held next Thursday, September 30. Karl Rove is shinin' his cattle prod, ready to shove it into Bush's haunches whenever Bush goes off script. Man, Bush will wonder, can't a man just pay someone to do this debatin' for him? Like back at Yale? Yeah, there's gonna be a lotta broken pencils, all-nighters, Krispy Kreme runs, and sweaty brows as they try to triangulate around whatever they predict Kerry'll say. (Kerry is gonna be in Wisconsin this weekend, doin' his own prep.)
Next week will be filled with advice and predictions. We'll hear the well-worn lie that Bush "won" the debates with Al Gore, which, if you mean "Told lies with a straight face" and "Didn't fling actual feces at the questioners while smacking the podium with his cock and screeching to Jesus to coke him up so he could make it through one answer without breaking down into blubbering monosyllabic grunts and sobs," yeah, sure, Bush won. If, however, you mean, "Gave coherent, substantive answers backed up by facts," well, you're pretty hard pressed to prove Bush prevailed. We'll also hear how masterful a debater Kerry is, so everyone will expect the President to fling shit, smack the podium with his cock, screech to Jesus, and blubber grunts and sobs. That way, when Bush doesn't fling, smack, screech, and blubber, he'll have defeated that "great debater."
There's a website called "Just One Question," which boils Bush down to a single thing issue that might be asked at a press conference, interview, or, say, a debate: "How many times have you been arrested?" It's a fine question, but it ain't an election winner.
The Rude Pundit has his own one simple question that needs to be asked specifically at a debate because it's about character, policy, and leadership in the here and now: Mr. President, do you believe Jews, Muslims, and others who die without accepting Jesus Christ as their savior will be allowed into Heaven?
That's a "let's-put-our-cards-on-the-table" question. It risks alienating a whole fuckin' lot of people with the answer. To answer "Yes" or anything squishy about loving everyone will wreck Bush's base. To answer "No" would wreck any chance with moderates. And, besides, here's the bonus: it's a legitimate question because it lets us know what is guiding the President in his decision-making and attitudes. In fact, it's a more relevant question than any about the National Guard. Now, does any moderator have the balls to ask?
Let's open this up: send your ideas for a single debate question to ask Bush that you think would devastate him or his campaign. The best will be posted next week. Send to rudepundit@yahoo.com.
The Rude Pundit, meanwhile, will be awaiting the call from the Kerry campaign to head over to Cheeseburg to help the candidate delicately eviscerate his opponent.
Thursday, September 23, 2004
George W. Bush - Fluffer-in-Chief:
The Rude Pundit knew a man whose job was to be a fluffer on the sets of porn films. See, a fluffer's job is to hand and/or blow job the male porn stars to erection so that when they enter the scene in order to fuck the men or women awaiting the aforementioned erection. See, foreplay is not a big part of pornos. Let's call this fluffer "Ulysses" because of the odyssey his day was before he went home to his partner and all the one-eyed monsters he had to deal with.
Anyone can, in essence, be a fluffer, Ulysses said. 'Cause for most guys, a pair of lips around their cranks and it's rocket time. But a really good fluffer knows that half his (or her) job is psychological. It's being able to grab a cock for all you're worth and yank while saying, "God, you are so big, you are so huge, what a gigantic dick you have, lemme feel those balls, tea bag me, yeah, man, tea bag me." Ulysses worked on the fringes of the main porn industry, in a lot of indy porn, where burnt-out porn freaks, so strung out on drugs that Ulysses'd go through a couple of Chap-Sticks a day just trying to keep some old fuck hard long enough to get through one threesome and a rim job while jackin' off.
Eventually, and this is where most guys, especially, get out of being in front of the camera and begin to direct porn, the hard-ons aren't as hard and no amount of fluffing is gonna bring 'em to the point of coming. It's sad, really, Ulysses said, seein' these coked-out motherfuckers screaming at their flaccid cocks, "C'mon, you little bitch, get a boner. A boner, pleeeaase" as some lubed-up, leaky implanted stoned chick tries to stay awake long enough for the scene not to look like rape. Still, though, Ulysses is on his knees, yankin' and suckin' for all he's worth, massagin' that prostate, tellin' the guy, "You are so goddamn huge."
When our President, this George Bush, stands up in front of an audience of adoring onlookers and begins to spout off about how much more "secure" the country is, what is he but America's fluffer. Here he is in King of Prussia (ironically enough), PA yesterday, at one of his little "meetings" or, in the popular parlance, "circle jerks," speaking about John Kerry, "You cannot lead the war against terror if you wilt or waver when times get tough. You cannot expect the Iraqi people to stand up and do the hard work of democracy if you're pessimistic about their ability to govern themselves." Bush may as well have been lubin' up his fingers for the reach around the ass of the American electorate, ready to shove two, three, four fingers up there to make 'em get hard and excited for Bush. "I'm driven by my desire to protect the American people. I'll be steadfast in my resolve to do everything I can to make you secure," he said, and he knows, he knows he's gettin' the public all hot to enter that voting booth and yank that fuckin' lever and cast their ballots for him. Otherwise, the elecorate cock will "wilt and waver" and that just ain't good for anyone.
It doesn't matter what the outside world is doing. Whether it's beheadings, the coming plunge into a religious war within Iraq, dead American soldiers, or a National Intelligence Estimate that says the best we can hope for in Iraq is a quagmire, if we're lucky. Bush just goes right on fluffing. He's one of those really great fluffers, the ones that do it 'cause they like the taste and feel of cock in their mouths. When Bush dismissed the CIA's NIE briefing with "they were just guessing," it was one more case of his refusal to allow anything to get in the way of keeping America hard. Goddamn, there's other nations to be fucked. If we're not sportin' wood, how in the world are we gonna get the fuckin' done?
George Bush carries a cushion with him for his knees. He's a busy, busy man.
The Rude Pundit knew a man whose job was to be a fluffer on the sets of porn films. See, a fluffer's job is to hand and/or blow job the male porn stars to erection so that when they enter the scene in order to fuck the men or women awaiting the aforementioned erection. See, foreplay is not a big part of pornos. Let's call this fluffer "Ulysses" because of the odyssey his day was before he went home to his partner and all the one-eyed monsters he had to deal with.
Anyone can, in essence, be a fluffer, Ulysses said. 'Cause for most guys, a pair of lips around their cranks and it's rocket time. But a really good fluffer knows that half his (or her) job is psychological. It's being able to grab a cock for all you're worth and yank while saying, "God, you are so big, you are so huge, what a gigantic dick you have, lemme feel those balls, tea bag me, yeah, man, tea bag me." Ulysses worked on the fringes of the main porn industry, in a lot of indy porn, where burnt-out porn freaks, so strung out on drugs that Ulysses'd go through a couple of Chap-Sticks a day just trying to keep some old fuck hard long enough to get through one threesome and a rim job while jackin' off.
Eventually, and this is where most guys, especially, get out of being in front of the camera and begin to direct porn, the hard-ons aren't as hard and no amount of fluffing is gonna bring 'em to the point of coming. It's sad, really, Ulysses said, seein' these coked-out motherfuckers screaming at their flaccid cocks, "C'mon, you little bitch, get a boner. A boner, pleeeaase" as some lubed-up, leaky implanted stoned chick tries to stay awake long enough for the scene not to look like rape. Still, though, Ulysses is on his knees, yankin' and suckin' for all he's worth, massagin' that prostate, tellin' the guy, "You are so goddamn huge."
When our President, this George Bush, stands up in front of an audience of adoring onlookers and begins to spout off about how much more "secure" the country is, what is he but America's fluffer. Here he is in King of Prussia (ironically enough), PA yesterday, at one of his little "meetings" or, in the popular parlance, "circle jerks," speaking about John Kerry, "You cannot lead the war against terror if you wilt or waver when times get tough. You cannot expect the Iraqi people to stand up and do the hard work of democracy if you're pessimistic about their ability to govern themselves." Bush may as well have been lubin' up his fingers for the reach around the ass of the American electorate, ready to shove two, three, four fingers up there to make 'em get hard and excited for Bush. "I'm driven by my desire to protect the American people. I'll be steadfast in my resolve to do everything I can to make you secure," he said, and he knows, he knows he's gettin' the public all hot to enter that voting booth and yank that fuckin' lever and cast their ballots for him. Otherwise, the elecorate cock will "wilt and waver" and that just ain't good for anyone.
It doesn't matter what the outside world is doing. Whether it's beheadings, the coming plunge into a religious war within Iraq, dead American soldiers, or a National Intelligence Estimate that says the best we can hope for in Iraq is a quagmire, if we're lucky. Bush just goes right on fluffing. He's one of those really great fluffers, the ones that do it 'cause they like the taste and feel of cock in their mouths. When Bush dismissed the CIA's NIE briefing with "they were just guessing," it was one more case of his refusal to allow anything to get in the way of keeping America hard. Goddamn, there's other nations to be fucked. If we're not sportin' wood, how in the world are we gonna get the fuckin' done?
George Bush carries a cushion with him for his knees. He's a busy, busy man.
Wednesday, September 22, 2004
The Teeny-Tiny President Visits the Great Big Hall:
Our teeny-tiny President visited the great big hall at the United Nations yesterday. The teeny-tiny President tried to make himself feel bigger with a great big motorcade and great big security measures that forced the gigantic huge city to come to a halt. But, in the end, when he entered the great big auditorium of the General Assembly, where leaders of nations teeny-tiny and great big, he was, as always, a teeny-tiny president.
Oh, how the teeny-tiny President, in his teeny-tiny body, flailed about and tried to convince the others there that his teeny-tiny way was the best. When the teeny-tiny President declared, "Since the last meeting of this General Assembly, the people of Iraq have regained sovereignty," somewhere in the hall the delegation from Liechtenstein chortled at the teeny-tiny President for saying such cute lies with his teeny-tiny tinny tinhorn voice.
When the teeny-tiny President waved his teeny-tiny finger and said, "Through the Millennium Challenge Account, my nation is increasing our aid to developing nations that expand economic freedom and invest in the education and health of their own people," somewhere in that great big hall, the representative from Nauru shook his head at the idea that the United States gets to judge the morality of other nations in giving aid.
When the teeny-tiny President felt his teeny-tiny-weeny cock grow to just teeny-tiny as he stated, "AIDS is the greatest health crisis of our time, and our unprecedented commitment will bring new hope to those who have walked too long in the shadow of death," the delegate from Guinea-Bissau sadly, slowly nodded in recognition of the promises made, broken, made, broken, a great big cycle from the teeny-tiny President speaking on the great big dais.
The teeny-tiny President spoke of great big ideals - human rights, democracy, social progress. But teeny-tiny words coming from a teeny-tiny mind yield only teeny-tiny reactions. The only reason anyone listened in that great big hall is that the teeny-tiny President is the leader of a great big country filled with teeny-tiny people who think that the teeny-tiny President is much, much more than a teeny-tiny man who got smaller and smaller with every word he spoke in the great big hall.
Our teeny-tiny President visited the great big hall at the United Nations yesterday. The teeny-tiny President tried to make himself feel bigger with a great big motorcade and great big security measures that forced the gigantic huge city to come to a halt. But, in the end, when he entered the great big auditorium of the General Assembly, where leaders of nations teeny-tiny and great big, he was, as always, a teeny-tiny president.
Oh, how the teeny-tiny President, in his teeny-tiny body, flailed about and tried to convince the others there that his teeny-tiny way was the best. When the teeny-tiny President declared, "Since the last meeting of this General Assembly, the people of Iraq have regained sovereignty," somewhere in the hall the delegation from Liechtenstein chortled at the teeny-tiny President for saying such cute lies with his teeny-tiny tinny tinhorn voice.
When the teeny-tiny President waved his teeny-tiny finger and said, "Through the Millennium Challenge Account, my nation is increasing our aid to developing nations that expand economic freedom and invest in the education and health of their own people," somewhere in that great big hall, the representative from Nauru shook his head at the idea that the United States gets to judge the morality of other nations in giving aid.
When the teeny-tiny President felt his teeny-tiny-weeny cock grow to just teeny-tiny as he stated, "AIDS is the greatest health crisis of our time, and our unprecedented commitment will bring new hope to those who have walked too long in the shadow of death," the delegate from Guinea-Bissau sadly, slowly nodded in recognition of the promises made, broken, made, broken, a great big cycle from the teeny-tiny President speaking on the great big dais.
The teeny-tiny President spoke of great big ideals - human rights, democracy, social progress. But teeny-tiny words coming from a teeny-tiny mind yield only teeny-tiny reactions. The only reason anyone listened in that great big hall is that the teeny-tiny President is the leader of a great big country filled with teeny-tiny people who think that the teeny-tiny President is much, much more than a teeny-tiny man who got smaller and smaller with every word he spoke in the great big hall.
Tuesday, September 21, 2004
Rather at Twilight - A Fantasia:
Dan Rather knows what's going on. He is not a fool. He's been around the journalistic block a time or two. His tutelage came at the feet of the greats. He remembers Edward R. Murrow, on a visit to Huntsville, Texas, smacking him in his cherubic newsie cheeks back in the 1950s, scolding Rather for reading a press release from Ike's Oval Office as if it was the proven facts. He remembers fond nights, slugging back Beefeater Gin with Walter Cronkite, giggling about how they had had a threesome with Jessica Savitch, Rather always taking sloppy seconds after Cronkite. But on his own, Rather's been there, lord, how he's been there, front lines of Bosnia, beaten at the 1968 Democratic Convention, fuckin' Afghanistan during the Soviet quagmire there where he drank bitter homebrew with the Mujahadeen. He's faced down the best of them - Nixon, Saddam Hussein, Connie Chung. He knew that one day his confrontation with George Bush, Sr. would come back to haunt him.
It is twilight in Manhattan. It is a beautiful time on clear eves like these, when the orange glow reflects off the buildings. Earlier Rather watched the blocked streets as the endless motorcade of the President rode down 54th Street, not even pausing to acknowledge the hordes of people gathered at the gates at rush hour. Rather has broadcast his "apology" for the Killian memos. He smiles a little at the idea that some in the media have dubbed this "Rathergate," as if this scandal is anything like that old one, as if anything dubious the press does is in any way comparable to the sins of Presidents. He shakes his head at the idea that he had to drop his drawers and get spanked on the air while Fox "News" and others have never had to say word one about their wholesale acceptance as truth of the demonstrable lies of the Swift Boat Vets. They were "honorable veterans," they say. Bill Burkett "has an ax to grind." He shakes his head as he sips a fine single-malt from Oban, Scotland. God, how he wishes he was on the western coast now. Far away from vindictive Bushes and their thugs who want to bring him down.
Here is what Dan Rather knows at this dark moment of the soul: The outcry over the truth about the Killian memos by anyone in the general public is sheer projection of their frustration with George Bush. It is easier to say Dan Rather has lied than to say the President has. It is easier to direct anger at someone like him, who is one man, than at Bush, whose lies brought death to so many. The rage screaming out at him now is the rage a helpless citizenry wants to bring to Bush, but they have no means to articulate it. And why is the rest of the media feeding on Rather's still-breathing, prostrate body at this time? Because it dilutes and wipes away their greater infractions of the public trust. Because it makes them feel like journalists that they can so freely go after this story.
Rather has an idea, a vindictive idea borne out of the fury Rather feels in his balls at what's happened. Fuck 'em all, he thinks. He knows these people. He is from Texas, really truly from Texas. He knows how to wield a horsewhip. He knows how to shove his hand up the ass of a cow, fisting it for all he's worth. Fuck these fake Texans. And fuck the rest of the press. It doesn't matter anymore how much he lies about "objectivity" or "telling both sides." Unless he signs off every night with "Vote for George Bush," he's gonna be accused of being one of the chairmen of the "liberal" media. So let's show 'em what a real liberal media would look like. Let's use the power of this broadcast network and its tradition of journalism and rip into this bunch of cocksuckers with the savagery of crocodile taking down a gazelle. Let's expose their guts. Let's look into all the things that everyone else is afraid to - the justifications for war, the cronyism, the crimes - let's put it all on the table, motherfuckers, and let the electorate decide. Goddamn, it'd be a beautiful thing, Rather thinks, pouring his next Scotch, sitting at his desk in the dimming light. He starts to sketch it out. Who to assign to what. What producers can work on which stories. A detailed memo, handwritten, on how to take apart the Bush presidency.
He stares at it for a moment and sadly nods. He's tired. All of this is making him feel older than he is. He walks over to the document shredder and makes spaghetti of his grand plan. He is seated now, the sun all the way down. He turns on the television, the only light in the room, and clicks over to Fox, to MSNBC, to CNN, and all the yelling and sanctimony and hate that spews out, all the disdain for the average person. Rather is beginning to fall asleep as the noise cascades around him, a whirlpool, and he drifts off as his lessers, people who will never do the things he has done and will never get the chance to do them, waste their time judging him, as if his disappearance in this darkening night will make one iota of difference.
Dan Rather knows what's going on. He is not a fool. He's been around the journalistic block a time or two. His tutelage came at the feet of the greats. He remembers Edward R. Murrow, on a visit to Huntsville, Texas, smacking him in his cherubic newsie cheeks back in the 1950s, scolding Rather for reading a press release from Ike's Oval Office as if it was the proven facts. He remembers fond nights, slugging back Beefeater Gin with Walter Cronkite, giggling about how they had had a threesome with Jessica Savitch, Rather always taking sloppy seconds after Cronkite. But on his own, Rather's been there, lord, how he's been there, front lines of Bosnia, beaten at the 1968 Democratic Convention, fuckin' Afghanistan during the Soviet quagmire there where he drank bitter homebrew with the Mujahadeen. He's faced down the best of them - Nixon, Saddam Hussein, Connie Chung. He knew that one day his confrontation with George Bush, Sr. would come back to haunt him.
It is twilight in Manhattan. It is a beautiful time on clear eves like these, when the orange glow reflects off the buildings. Earlier Rather watched the blocked streets as the endless motorcade of the President rode down 54th Street, not even pausing to acknowledge the hordes of people gathered at the gates at rush hour. Rather has broadcast his "apology" for the Killian memos. He smiles a little at the idea that some in the media have dubbed this "Rathergate," as if this scandal is anything like that old one, as if anything dubious the press does is in any way comparable to the sins of Presidents. He shakes his head at the idea that he had to drop his drawers and get spanked on the air while Fox "News" and others have never had to say word one about their wholesale acceptance as truth of the demonstrable lies of the Swift Boat Vets. They were "honorable veterans," they say. Bill Burkett "has an ax to grind." He shakes his head as he sips a fine single-malt from Oban, Scotland. God, how he wishes he was on the western coast now. Far away from vindictive Bushes and their thugs who want to bring him down.
Here is what Dan Rather knows at this dark moment of the soul: The outcry over the truth about the Killian memos by anyone in the general public is sheer projection of their frustration with George Bush. It is easier to say Dan Rather has lied than to say the President has. It is easier to direct anger at someone like him, who is one man, than at Bush, whose lies brought death to so many. The rage screaming out at him now is the rage a helpless citizenry wants to bring to Bush, but they have no means to articulate it. And why is the rest of the media feeding on Rather's still-breathing, prostrate body at this time? Because it dilutes and wipes away their greater infractions of the public trust. Because it makes them feel like journalists that they can so freely go after this story.
Rather has an idea, a vindictive idea borne out of the fury Rather feels in his balls at what's happened. Fuck 'em all, he thinks. He knows these people. He is from Texas, really truly from Texas. He knows how to wield a horsewhip. He knows how to shove his hand up the ass of a cow, fisting it for all he's worth. Fuck these fake Texans. And fuck the rest of the press. It doesn't matter anymore how much he lies about "objectivity" or "telling both sides." Unless he signs off every night with "Vote for George Bush," he's gonna be accused of being one of the chairmen of the "liberal" media. So let's show 'em what a real liberal media would look like. Let's use the power of this broadcast network and its tradition of journalism and rip into this bunch of cocksuckers with the savagery of crocodile taking down a gazelle. Let's expose their guts. Let's look into all the things that everyone else is afraid to - the justifications for war, the cronyism, the crimes - let's put it all on the table, motherfuckers, and let the electorate decide. Goddamn, it'd be a beautiful thing, Rather thinks, pouring his next Scotch, sitting at his desk in the dimming light. He starts to sketch it out. Who to assign to what. What producers can work on which stories. A detailed memo, handwritten, on how to take apart the Bush presidency.
He stares at it for a moment and sadly nods. He's tired. All of this is making him feel older than he is. He walks over to the document shredder and makes spaghetti of his grand plan. He is seated now, the sun all the way down. He turns on the television, the only light in the room, and clicks over to Fox, to MSNBC, to CNN, and all the yelling and sanctimony and hate that spews out, all the disdain for the average person. Rather is beginning to fall asleep as the noise cascades around him, a whirlpool, and he drifts off as his lessers, people who will never do the things he has done and will never get the chance to do them, waste their time judging him, as if his disappearance in this darkening night will make one iota of difference.
Monday, September 20, 2004
Of The Sideshow and the Main Ring:
Man, remember the good ol' days of the circus? Remember when we could look at the freaks in the sideshow and feel really good about ourselves? The fat lady so fuckin' fat, gorging herself on a hamhock, let fat fucks walkin' by her stall feel like, "Hey, maybe I'm not such a fat fuck. Well, at least I'm not that fuckin' fat, now let's go get an elephant ear." Or we could watch the geek, scratching at himself, shitting on his hay, and then biting the head off a live chicken. Holy shit, all of a sudden Uncle Jesse sure seemed a whole lot more sane - all he did was sit in the basement, cussin' at those got-damn Japs comin' to get him. Ahh, the sideshow, when it wasn't ironic, when it was just pure human greed that allowed us to exploit the suffering of others for fun and profit. Sure, Ang and Chang may have been treated like a pair of kings in a sticky poker hand, but no one would have given a rat's ass about 'em if they hadn't been joined at the hip. The freaks were so cool, sometimes people didn't even give a shit about the main circus. Oh, yeah, it takes great skill, years of practice, and the possibility of death to be a Flying Wallenda, up there on the tightrope or the trapeze, but who gives a damn about some fairy in tights jumpin' on a wire when there's a guy with hideous psoriasis they're callin' the Alligator Man?
We've been engaged in watching the freaks the last week or so of this election season. We should be appalled over the grotesque sight of people squabbling over when Times New Roman was invented and if the gals in the pool typed this memo or that. We're not gonna deal with the whole fuckin' memo pissing match here. Except to say this: people who believe the issue about George Bush's tenure in the Air National Guard comes down to whether or not CBS was hoodwinked over a couple of scraps of paper are the same people who would slow down to see blood at a car wreck, the same people who would rather watch a chicken get its head bitten off than watch the acrobats. The memos do not fuckin' matter. Pretending that they do matter makes you look like an idiot. This ain't about CBS's credibility. This ain't about "liberal media" bias. None of that utter and complete and fetid bullshit. The intention of the CBS report was to answer questions that the Bush administration has steadfastly refused to answer. That, in itself, is an honorable pursuit.
Bottom line on this sideshow: Would those who say that Dan Rather should not be trusted, now that he seems to have used forged memos in a portion of a single report, ever say the same thing about George Bush when he led us to war based on "misleading" information about WMDs, including, well, forged documents? Howzabout a trade? We won't trust Rather anymore if you don't trust Bush. Deal? No? Then go fuck yourself with your memos.
But sometimes the things that are seemingly sideshows really are the main events, the tightrope where life and death can occur in a blindingly fast moment. Take the much discussed story of Sue Niederer. Niederer is a New Jersey woman whose son, Lt. Seth Dvorin, was killed in Iraq. Wearing a t-shirt that said, "President Bush You Killed My Son," Niederer attended a campaign speech by Laura Bush, another mother, as we are constantly, nauseatingly reminded. At the firehouse in Hopewell Township, New Jersey (is there a firehouse in America not visited by some random Bush or Cheney?), Niederer demanded to know why Bush doesn't send her daughters, both of military age, to go fight in Iraq. She was, as we know by now, arrested for trespassing, even though she had a ticket to the event. Consigned to the category of "protester" by the media, Niederer's plaintive cry for justice is now equal to people who strip off their clothes for AIDS funding or puppeteers for peace. Republican New Jersey Assemblyman Bill Baroni commented, "She really ought to find something to do with her time."
Maybe what she can do with her time is try to put back together the gory jigsaw puzzle that is now her son's corpse. See, Seth Dvorin died trying to defuse a homemade bomb, which went off and ripped through his body, sending pieces of it in several different directions. There's a good chance his hands were torn into dozens of bits. There's a good chance the bomb was packed with metal shards, nails, what have you, each of which that went through him would have taken a piece of him with it before it landed on the ground. Seth's father, Richard, has also taken it upon himself to protest, in a letter to President Bush. Perhaps his 25 year-old widow has protested, too. But it is his mother who has made the most public outcry, to another mother, about the deaths of children.
During the "Dirty War" in Argentina, from 1976-1983, a military junta disappeared tens of thousands of so-called "rebels" and others. Every week, on Thursday afternoons, since 1977, in the Plaza de Mayo, the main square of Buenos Aires, a group of mothers have appeared to demand answers on what has happened to their children. In often silent protest, the very presence of these women, the Madres de Plaza de Mayo, creates a living memorial, a way for the disappered to never be forgotten. Some of the members themselves were disappeared, but their numbers grew to thousands, an empowering moment in the early 1980s when the people themselves were blatantly disempowered. And many of the mothers did learn what happened to their children (although thousands remain unaccounted for). And the junta fell, but the mothers remain.
Perhaps it's time, perhaps it's time, again, at last, in this nation, for Sue Niederer to be another Rosa Parks, for movements of mothers to come together and not allow their children to be disappeared into the vast abyss of memory where all soldiers seem to have been told they die for good and noble causes, where all parents are supposed to be proud of the sacrifice.
Man, remember the good ol' days of the circus? Remember when we could look at the freaks in the sideshow and feel really good about ourselves? The fat lady so fuckin' fat, gorging herself on a hamhock, let fat fucks walkin' by her stall feel like, "Hey, maybe I'm not such a fat fuck. Well, at least I'm not that fuckin' fat, now let's go get an elephant ear." Or we could watch the geek, scratching at himself, shitting on his hay, and then biting the head off a live chicken. Holy shit, all of a sudden Uncle Jesse sure seemed a whole lot more sane - all he did was sit in the basement, cussin' at those got-damn Japs comin' to get him. Ahh, the sideshow, when it wasn't ironic, when it was just pure human greed that allowed us to exploit the suffering of others for fun and profit. Sure, Ang and Chang may have been treated like a pair of kings in a sticky poker hand, but no one would have given a rat's ass about 'em if they hadn't been joined at the hip. The freaks were so cool, sometimes people didn't even give a shit about the main circus. Oh, yeah, it takes great skill, years of practice, and the possibility of death to be a Flying Wallenda, up there on the tightrope or the trapeze, but who gives a damn about some fairy in tights jumpin' on a wire when there's a guy with hideous psoriasis they're callin' the Alligator Man?
We've been engaged in watching the freaks the last week or so of this election season. We should be appalled over the grotesque sight of people squabbling over when Times New Roman was invented and if the gals in the pool typed this memo or that. We're not gonna deal with the whole fuckin' memo pissing match here. Except to say this: people who believe the issue about George Bush's tenure in the Air National Guard comes down to whether or not CBS was hoodwinked over a couple of scraps of paper are the same people who would slow down to see blood at a car wreck, the same people who would rather watch a chicken get its head bitten off than watch the acrobats. The memos do not fuckin' matter. Pretending that they do matter makes you look like an idiot. This ain't about CBS's credibility. This ain't about "liberal media" bias. None of that utter and complete and fetid bullshit. The intention of the CBS report was to answer questions that the Bush administration has steadfastly refused to answer. That, in itself, is an honorable pursuit.
Bottom line on this sideshow: Would those who say that Dan Rather should not be trusted, now that he seems to have used forged memos in a portion of a single report, ever say the same thing about George Bush when he led us to war based on "misleading" information about WMDs, including, well, forged documents? Howzabout a trade? We won't trust Rather anymore if you don't trust Bush. Deal? No? Then go fuck yourself with your memos.
But sometimes the things that are seemingly sideshows really are the main events, the tightrope where life and death can occur in a blindingly fast moment. Take the much discussed story of Sue Niederer. Niederer is a New Jersey woman whose son, Lt. Seth Dvorin, was killed in Iraq. Wearing a t-shirt that said, "President Bush You Killed My Son," Niederer attended a campaign speech by Laura Bush, another mother, as we are constantly, nauseatingly reminded. At the firehouse in Hopewell Township, New Jersey (is there a firehouse in America not visited by some random Bush or Cheney?), Niederer demanded to know why Bush doesn't send her daughters, both of military age, to go fight in Iraq. She was, as we know by now, arrested for trespassing, even though she had a ticket to the event. Consigned to the category of "protester" by the media, Niederer's plaintive cry for justice is now equal to people who strip off their clothes for AIDS funding or puppeteers for peace. Republican New Jersey Assemblyman Bill Baroni commented, "She really ought to find something to do with her time."
Maybe what she can do with her time is try to put back together the gory jigsaw puzzle that is now her son's corpse. See, Seth Dvorin died trying to defuse a homemade bomb, which went off and ripped through his body, sending pieces of it in several different directions. There's a good chance his hands were torn into dozens of bits. There's a good chance the bomb was packed with metal shards, nails, what have you, each of which that went through him would have taken a piece of him with it before it landed on the ground. Seth's father, Richard, has also taken it upon himself to protest, in a letter to President Bush. Perhaps his 25 year-old widow has protested, too. But it is his mother who has made the most public outcry, to another mother, about the deaths of children.
During the "Dirty War" in Argentina, from 1976-1983, a military junta disappeared tens of thousands of so-called "rebels" and others. Every week, on Thursday afternoons, since 1977, in the Plaza de Mayo, the main square of Buenos Aires, a group of mothers have appeared to demand answers on what has happened to their children. In often silent protest, the very presence of these women, the Madres de Plaza de Mayo, creates a living memorial, a way for the disappered to never be forgotten. Some of the members themselves were disappeared, but their numbers grew to thousands, an empowering moment in the early 1980s when the people themselves were blatantly disempowered. And many of the mothers did learn what happened to their children (although thousands remain unaccounted for). And the junta fell, but the mothers remain.
Perhaps it's time, perhaps it's time, again, at last, in this nation, for Sue Niederer to be another Rosa Parks, for movements of mothers to come together and not allow their children to be disappeared into the vast abyss of memory where all soldiers seem to have been told they die for good and noble causes, where all parents are supposed to be proud of the sacrifice.
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