Eight (Or So) Lines to Use When Talking to Your Conservative Friends About the Sarah Palin Interview:
Charlie Gibson's interviews on ABC with vice presidential candidate Sarah Palin have been excerpted, with the full horror on display tonight. Already, conservative tools like Torie Clarke are defending Palin's utter dimwittery (and, no, calling her dumb is not sexist). So when you're speaking with some conservative friend who is trying desperately to justify the Palin nomination and her depressing interview, here's a few ways to not let them off the hook:
1. "Well, at least we know which parent Trig favors."
2. "She's like President Bush, but stupid."
2a. "She's like Dick Cheney, but evil. And stupid."
3. "I wanna play poker with her. She'll owe me a whole moose."
3a. For straight guys and lesbians so inclined: "I wanna play strip poker with her. I'll see her ANWR by the end of the night."
4. "Wait - Russia's full of white people. Do we go to war with white people anymore?"
5. "I wish Gibson had just made up shit to ask her, like 'Explain the Kerzensteinhoffer Methodology,' just to see which talking point she thought fit it."
6. "Do you think Gibson ever wanted to just look at her and say, 'Really?' and just leave it at that?"
6a. "Do you think Gibson ever wanted to look at his producer and say, 'Are you fucking kidding?'"
6b. "Do you think after Palin stared at him with those confused, spinning eyes, he just wanted to reach over and smack her?"
7. "You know who else says, 'I'm ready'? Spongebob, motherfucker, Sponge-fuckin'-bob Square-fuckin'-pants."
7a. Adult animation version: "She reminded me of Brian's girlfriend on Family Guy, and I was all like Stewie, sitting there with them and saying, 'Oh, this is going to be fun.'"
8. "Hey, you know who else thinks war is a task from God? C'mon, say it..."
Thursday, September 11, 2008
9/11 Has Lost His Soul:
It was worse than most mornings today. 9/11 awoke with diarrhea, cold sweat, head that felt like he was beaten with a sledgehammer, and the DTs. Shaking, shitting, and shoveling painkillers in his mouth like a spastic child with an extra large bag of M&Ms, 9/11 blamed the smack from last night. Goddamn, he thought, he had to give up the smack, even if he told himself it was only a taste every now and then. Usually when it got close to his date on the calendar. Then, well, who wouldn't need that pinch and warmth, that glow searing through the veins?
9/11 looked around his trashed studio in Queens, having been priced out of lower Manhattan a couple of years ago. He needed to clean up - toss out the pizza boxes, the liquor bottles, the cum-stained tissues, the homemade collage porn where he had pasted various faces on the bodies of naked dudes and chicks - Giuliani on a Russian coke whore with her legs over her head, McCain on a twink spreading his ass cheeks, Bush bent over a rock with Bill Clinton fucking her ass with a strap-on, Bin Laden blowing himself. Each one at different times inspiring 9/11 to jack it, usually with CNN on the TV, god, CNN is a porn flick soundtrack from hell.
He knows he'll head down to the hole today. He'll cackle at the Sisyphean uselessness of the efforts going on down there, the way the Towers are inverted now, a void, an abyss, how they keep building and building with nothing appearing. So much corruption and waste, so much worthless praise, a rank absurdity that'd make Camus hang up his pen and do nothing but publish pictures of the site of the Freedom Tower and say, "This." The human condition, the American condition, embodied in the fact that nothing can be accomplished as long as that hole is treated as anything more than what it is: a hole.
Like that emptiness, constantly, people wanted to ascribe to 9/11 something more than what he was, a marker and nothing else. But, no, he listened at first to those who invested in him aspects miraculous or mystical. He thought he had superpowers, a notion that dissipated quickly when he broke his arm after leaping from the top of a brownstone and after he got his ass kicked attempting to break up a bar fight. After that, it was just despair watching so many posers and losers claim that their deeds and battles were his. Christ, how easy it was to hit the bottle, how simple to score the crack and heroin, how just a name drop got him scrips to whatever pills he needed. At his lowest point, snorting ground up Adderall off a Condi-lookalike tranny hooker's pre-op dick, he wished he could just go into some kind of coma and awaken thirty, fifty, a hundred years in the future.
But 9/11 knows, better than most, that nothing will have changed generations from now. From his toilet, he watches the White House's moment of silence, all four of them, Bushes and Cheneys, in black, awkwardly standing in a row on the lawn, Laura looking like she's wearing ninja pajamas. The seventh anniversary "fact sheet" from the Oval Office had made everything after the date about the date, transforming years of war and destruction into planets orbiting George W. Bush as the sun, listing all the "accomplishments" this president had committed in his name, as if Bush owns it. "Fuck it," 9/11 half-moans, "He can have it." He wipes and flushes, wonders if he should order some pizza.
In the end, he knows, he knows, he knows he'll just end up where he always does, face down in a pool of his own vomit, the needle hopefully out of his arm. 9/11 doesn't know how to cope anymore. He doesn't know who he is. He's too weak, too exhausted to figure it out. Ultimately, someone's gonna have to tell him before he just disappears, too, into that sinkhole of history.
It was worse than most mornings today. 9/11 awoke with diarrhea, cold sweat, head that felt like he was beaten with a sledgehammer, and the DTs. Shaking, shitting, and shoveling painkillers in his mouth like a spastic child with an extra large bag of M&Ms, 9/11 blamed the smack from last night. Goddamn, he thought, he had to give up the smack, even if he told himself it was only a taste every now and then. Usually when it got close to his date on the calendar. Then, well, who wouldn't need that pinch and warmth, that glow searing through the veins?
9/11 looked around his trashed studio in Queens, having been priced out of lower Manhattan a couple of years ago. He needed to clean up - toss out the pizza boxes, the liquor bottles, the cum-stained tissues, the homemade collage porn where he had pasted various faces on the bodies of naked dudes and chicks - Giuliani on a Russian coke whore with her legs over her head, McCain on a twink spreading his ass cheeks, Bush bent over a rock with Bill Clinton fucking her ass with a strap-on, Bin Laden blowing himself. Each one at different times inspiring 9/11 to jack it, usually with CNN on the TV, god, CNN is a porn flick soundtrack from hell.
He knows he'll head down to the hole today. He'll cackle at the Sisyphean uselessness of the efforts going on down there, the way the Towers are inverted now, a void, an abyss, how they keep building and building with nothing appearing. So much corruption and waste, so much worthless praise, a rank absurdity that'd make Camus hang up his pen and do nothing but publish pictures of the site of the Freedom Tower and say, "This." The human condition, the American condition, embodied in the fact that nothing can be accomplished as long as that hole is treated as anything more than what it is: a hole.
Like that emptiness, constantly, people wanted to ascribe to 9/11 something more than what he was, a marker and nothing else. But, no, he listened at first to those who invested in him aspects miraculous or mystical. He thought he had superpowers, a notion that dissipated quickly when he broke his arm after leaping from the top of a brownstone and after he got his ass kicked attempting to break up a bar fight. After that, it was just despair watching so many posers and losers claim that their deeds and battles were his. Christ, how easy it was to hit the bottle, how simple to score the crack and heroin, how just a name drop got him scrips to whatever pills he needed. At his lowest point, snorting ground up Adderall off a Condi-lookalike tranny hooker's pre-op dick, he wished he could just go into some kind of coma and awaken thirty, fifty, a hundred years in the future.
But 9/11 knows, better than most, that nothing will have changed generations from now. From his toilet, he watches the White House's moment of silence, all four of them, Bushes and Cheneys, in black, awkwardly standing in a row on the lawn, Laura looking like she's wearing ninja pajamas. The seventh anniversary "fact sheet" from the Oval Office had made everything after the date about the date, transforming years of war and destruction into planets orbiting George W. Bush as the sun, listing all the "accomplishments" this president had committed in his name, as if Bush owns it. "Fuck it," 9/11 half-moans, "He can have it." He wipes and flushes, wonders if he should order some pizza.
In the end, he knows, he knows, he knows he'll just end up where he always does, face down in a pool of his own vomit, the needle hopefully out of his arm. 9/11 doesn't know how to cope anymore. He doesn't know who he is. He's too weak, too exhausted to figure it out. Ultimately, someone's gonna have to tell him before he just disappears, too, into that sinkhole of history.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Note To Barack Obama: Use the Sex Ad to Destroy These Fuckers:
Did you see this shit? This fuckin' ad that the McCain campaign put out that says that Barack Obama wants children to learn about sex "before learning to read." It's about a bill that Obama supported in Illinois that simply added information about sexually-transmitted diseases to the standards for teaching sex education. That's it. Now, the McCain campaign has latched onto this attack, first raised in this election cycle by Alan "Crazy Eyes" Keyes, and added into it an image of a leering Obama at the end, looking like your creepy neighbor who touches your kids too much. (That image is used again in the "Lipstick" ad regarding Obama's "lipstick on a pig" remark.)
As others have pointed out, it's time to get mad. It's time for Bill Clinton-style finger wagging; it's time for b-ball Obama to rear his head.
We know the game here, the racial politics, the fear of sex that's rampant on the right. John McCain has finally released his rage and hatred, and it is a sight to behold. Watching McCain unleashed is like watching a starving tiger in a pen of gazelle. It ain't gonna be pretty. The Rude Pundit imagines McCain seeing the faces of his captors in everyone he looks at, and he's got a bayonet.
Unless the Obama campaign starts throwing shit at McCain, it will be over. Yeah, Obama wants to change politics, but ask anyone who has ever tried to subvert a system: you gotta do it from the inside. And if you cringe at the idea of Obama stepping into the muck and mire of post-Atwater poltics, then ask yourself: will he get more done by keeping his shoes clean and losing?
The truly aggravating thing is watching opportunity after opportunity pass by the Obama campaign. Here's some advice to them: you are not living in subtle times. You are living in an era in our nation where people only react if you use a fucking mallet, not a stiletto, to get your point across. The choice of Sarah Palin as a running mate was a brilliant read of the national zeitgeist. She's like the winner of America's Next Top Model, not a qualified politician, and as such, idiot America thinks they relate.
So, dear Obama campaign, you have to use the word "lie." You wanna make an ad about the Bridge to Nowhere? Call McCain and Palin's assertions "lies." People don't give a fuck about "exaggerations" or "misleading statements." That's lawyer talk. Don't you get it, you stupid fucks? You call the Bridge to Nowhere statement or the plane-on-E-bay line a lie, you say it everywhere you and your people go, and then the McCain campaign has to prove it's not a fucking lie. That's the way this cocksucking game works. The honorable part is in not being a fucking liar yourself.
Goddamnit. Every fucking election the Rude Pundit can remember the word "lie" has been out there, low fruit, ready to be plucked, but the Democratic candidates are just too pussified to reach for it. John Kerry went down in flames because he didn't call out liars.
And it's not only the issue of lying. Go after their personal weaknesses. You should be making ads that imply McCain is too old to be president. And if you're criticized for it, you gotta say, "I think it's up to Senator McCain to demonstrate he has the necessary energy for this job."
Stay angry. Again: The McCain campaign just said that Barack Obama wants to teach 6 year-olds how to fuck. That deserves a little more of a response than it's "perverse" or whatever shit the Obama campaign just put out.
You want the best route? Here it is: emasculate John McCain. Use Palin to cut his nuts off. Constantly say shit like, "Am I running against John McCain or Sarah Palin?" or "If the Republicans wanted her to be president, they should have nominated her" or "Maybe Republicans are used to a vice president that runs the show" or whatever. Make McCain have to defend himself. Turn him into Palin's bitch. It'll make him insane. And if there's one thing that Republicans hate most about women, it's the perception of the castrating bitch telling men what to do (see all the shit about Hillary Clinton).
In other words, Obama campaign, as so many others have advised, go on offense, and that means you have to offend.
Did you see this shit? This fuckin' ad that the McCain campaign put out that says that Barack Obama wants children to learn about sex "before learning to read." It's about a bill that Obama supported in Illinois that simply added information about sexually-transmitted diseases to the standards for teaching sex education. That's it. Now, the McCain campaign has latched onto this attack, first raised in this election cycle by Alan "Crazy Eyes" Keyes, and added into it an image of a leering Obama at the end, looking like your creepy neighbor who touches your kids too much. (That image is used again in the "Lipstick" ad regarding Obama's "lipstick on a pig" remark.)
As others have pointed out, it's time to get mad. It's time for Bill Clinton-style finger wagging; it's time for b-ball Obama to rear his head.
We know the game here, the racial politics, the fear of sex that's rampant on the right. John McCain has finally released his rage and hatred, and it is a sight to behold. Watching McCain unleashed is like watching a starving tiger in a pen of gazelle. It ain't gonna be pretty. The Rude Pundit imagines McCain seeing the faces of his captors in everyone he looks at, and he's got a bayonet.
Unless the Obama campaign starts throwing shit at McCain, it will be over. Yeah, Obama wants to change politics, but ask anyone who has ever tried to subvert a system: you gotta do it from the inside. And if you cringe at the idea of Obama stepping into the muck and mire of post-Atwater poltics, then ask yourself: will he get more done by keeping his shoes clean and losing?
The truly aggravating thing is watching opportunity after opportunity pass by the Obama campaign. Here's some advice to them: you are not living in subtle times. You are living in an era in our nation where people only react if you use a fucking mallet, not a stiletto, to get your point across. The choice of Sarah Palin as a running mate was a brilliant read of the national zeitgeist. She's like the winner of America's Next Top Model, not a qualified politician, and as such, idiot America thinks they relate.
So, dear Obama campaign, you have to use the word "lie." You wanna make an ad about the Bridge to Nowhere? Call McCain and Palin's assertions "lies." People don't give a fuck about "exaggerations" or "misleading statements." That's lawyer talk. Don't you get it, you stupid fucks? You call the Bridge to Nowhere statement or the plane-on-E-bay line a lie, you say it everywhere you and your people go, and then the McCain campaign has to prove it's not a fucking lie. That's the way this cocksucking game works. The honorable part is in not being a fucking liar yourself.
Goddamnit. Every fucking election the Rude Pundit can remember the word "lie" has been out there, low fruit, ready to be plucked, but the Democratic candidates are just too pussified to reach for it. John Kerry went down in flames because he didn't call out liars.
And it's not only the issue of lying. Go after their personal weaknesses. You should be making ads that imply McCain is too old to be president. And if you're criticized for it, you gotta say, "I think it's up to Senator McCain to demonstrate he has the necessary energy for this job."
Stay angry. Again: The McCain campaign just said that Barack Obama wants to teach 6 year-olds how to fuck. That deserves a little more of a response than it's "perverse" or whatever shit the Obama campaign just put out.
You want the best route? Here it is: emasculate John McCain. Use Palin to cut his nuts off. Constantly say shit like, "Am I running against John McCain or Sarah Palin?" or "If the Republicans wanted her to be president, they should have nominated her" or "Maybe Republicans are used to a vice president that runs the show" or whatever. Make McCain have to defend himself. Turn him into Palin's bitch. It'll make him insane. And if there's one thing that Republicans hate most about women, it's the perception of the castrating bitch telling men what to do (see all the shit about Hillary Clinton).
In other words, Obama campaign, as so many others have advised, go on offense, and that means you have to offend.
Tuesday, September 09, 2008
Photos That Make the Rude Pundit Want to Down a Handful of Percocet with a Fifth of Fermented Moose Urine:
That's a photoshopped picture of a woman factory worker in World War II (apocryphally Rosie the Riveter) with Sarah Palin's face on her. As far as the Rude Pundit can tell, the nearest Sarah Palin ever came to working in a factory was sucking a union dude's cock and birthing his spawn (not necessarily in that order).
It's more than an insult to real women workers for the McCain/Palin campaign to appropriate the image. Palin, the almost beauty queen/TV sports reporter/mayor/oil industry lackey/governor, doesn't even deserve to be lumped in with trailer trash, the kind of people who do manual labor until they get a cushy worker's comp settlement for some on-the-job idiocy. It'd be more appropriate to merge Palin's lip curl of contempt with Michelle Malkin or Ann Coulter's fucktarded perma-sneer, gender traitors all.
For if the legacy of all those women who fought for other women since World War II is Sarah Palin, then the earth is gonna rumble from all the grave spinning.
That's a photoshopped picture of a woman factory worker in World War II (apocryphally Rosie the Riveter) with Sarah Palin's face on her. As far as the Rude Pundit can tell, the nearest Sarah Palin ever came to working in a factory was sucking a union dude's cock and birthing his spawn (not necessarily in that order).
It's more than an insult to real women workers for the McCain/Palin campaign to appropriate the image. Palin, the almost beauty queen/TV sports reporter/mayor/oil industry lackey/governor, doesn't even deserve to be lumped in with trailer trash, the kind of people who do manual labor until they get a cushy worker's comp settlement for some on-the-job idiocy. It'd be more appropriate to merge Palin's lip curl of contempt with Michelle Malkin or Ann Coulter's fucktarded perma-sneer, gender traitors all.
For if the legacy of all those women who fought for other women since World War II is Sarah Palin, then the earth is gonna rumble from all the grave spinning.
Monday, September 08, 2008
Remembering John Edwards' Experience and How That Worked Out:
Let us remember, as others have, the full-bore attack by Republicans back in 2004 on the alleged lack of "experience" by John Kerry's pick for vice president, John Edwards:
Bill Frist, July 7, 2004 Washington Times: "From an experience level, there's going to be a lot of the on-the-job training, potentially, if he were to ever serve as vice president."
Chuck Grassley, same: "In the Senate four years - and that is the full extent of public life. No international experience, no military experience - you can imagine what the advertising is going to be next year."
Grassley released this statement on the announcement of Sarah Palin as VP nominee: "Gov. Palin has a remarkable record of accomplishment in her personal life as well as public life. She's stood for principle over party and has record-breaking support in her state for it. She's demonstrated strength of character when faced with adversity." Frist, so far, has not commented on Palin.
Trent Lott, July 8, 2004, New York Times: "The very idea they would maintain that being on the Intelligence Committee for four years would qualify him in a national security-foreign policy sense is ridiculous. That is a very slim reed." Like Frist, Lott doesn't need John McCain's good graces, so he hasn't gone all Grassley on Palin.
President Bush in July 2004 on the difference between John Edwards and Dick Cheney: "Dick Cheney can be president. Next."
Dick Cheney, October 5, 2004 Vice Presidential Debate: "It's a very significant responsibility when you consider that at a moment's notice you may have to take over as president of the United States and make all of those decisions. It's happened several times in our history. And I think that probably is the most important consideration in picking a vice president, somebody who could take over."
Apparently, that consideration bar is pretty damn low.
Now the point here is not the hypocrisy of the right. That's just a given. It's that one of the reasons for the attack on Edwards was that Republicans were shitting themselves that Kerry had chosen the smooth-talking, good-looking man of the people. Bush's camp even predicted (in that raising expectations way) that the choice would give the Democrats a 15-point lead initially in the polls.
The point here is "How did that work out?" Edwards, in the end, had little or no effect on the election. He elicited excitement and wrath at first because, although better-known nationally than Palin was when she was chosen by McCain, he was a fairly unknown quantity (there was even talk about how now he'd be vetted more by the media). He was meant to be a complement to the experienced, older Kerry, a reverse Bush-Cheney, if you will.
The problem with all the hand-wringing over how the choice of Sarah Palin shows up the inexperience of Barack Obama is it's a distraction. The difference is easy. Barack Obama was chosen by voters and delegates after months of primaries and caucuses. Sarah Palin was chosen by John McCain alone. In other words, say what you will about comparable experiences, but millions of people looked at Obama's experience and said, "Yeah, him."
Let us remember, as others have, the full-bore attack by Republicans back in 2004 on the alleged lack of "experience" by John Kerry's pick for vice president, John Edwards:
Bill Frist, July 7, 2004 Washington Times: "From an experience level, there's going to be a lot of the on-the-job training, potentially, if he were to ever serve as vice president."
Chuck Grassley, same: "In the Senate four years - and that is the full extent of public life. No international experience, no military experience - you can imagine what the advertising is going to be next year."
Grassley released this statement on the announcement of Sarah Palin as VP nominee: "Gov. Palin has a remarkable record of accomplishment in her personal life as well as public life. She's stood for principle over party and has record-breaking support in her state for it. She's demonstrated strength of character when faced with adversity." Frist, so far, has not commented on Palin.
Trent Lott, July 8, 2004, New York Times: "The very idea they would maintain that being on the Intelligence Committee for four years would qualify him in a national security-foreign policy sense is ridiculous. That is a very slim reed." Like Frist, Lott doesn't need John McCain's good graces, so he hasn't gone all Grassley on Palin.
President Bush in July 2004 on the difference between John Edwards and Dick Cheney: "Dick Cheney can be president. Next."
Dick Cheney, October 5, 2004 Vice Presidential Debate: "It's a very significant responsibility when you consider that at a moment's notice you may have to take over as president of the United States and make all of those decisions. It's happened several times in our history. And I think that probably is the most important consideration in picking a vice president, somebody who could take over."
Apparently, that consideration bar is pretty damn low.
Now the point here is not the hypocrisy of the right. That's just a given. It's that one of the reasons for the attack on Edwards was that Republicans were shitting themselves that Kerry had chosen the smooth-talking, good-looking man of the people. Bush's camp even predicted (in that raising expectations way) that the choice would give the Democrats a 15-point lead initially in the polls.
The point here is "How did that work out?" Edwards, in the end, had little or no effect on the election. He elicited excitement and wrath at first because, although better-known nationally than Palin was when she was chosen by McCain, he was a fairly unknown quantity (there was even talk about how now he'd be vetted more by the media). He was meant to be a complement to the experienced, older Kerry, a reverse Bush-Cheney, if you will.
The problem with all the hand-wringing over how the choice of Sarah Palin shows up the inexperience of Barack Obama is it's a distraction. The difference is easy. Barack Obama was chosen by voters and delegates after months of primaries and caucuses. Sarah Palin was chosen by John McCain alone. In other words, say what you will about comparable experiences, but millions of people looked at Obama's experience and said, "Yeah, him."
Friday, September 05, 2008
Grappling with McCain:
At some point last night, it stopped being funny. Here was the scene: the Rude Pundit was watching John McCain speak on a movie screen at the Parkway Theatre in south Minneapolis. In the audience were over 300 people who had come to see a comedy show, which happened before McCain spoke. The past couple of nights at the Parkway, the whole thing took on a raucous, Rocky Horror Picture Show/MST3K feel, with anyone who wanted hurling sarcasm at Joe Lieberman and Sarah Palin.
Last night, the set-up was much the same. And, after McCain started speaking, there was much mirth in that way that people will try to top each other. But then, all of a sudden, you could feel the wind go out of the room. It wasn't funny anymore. If you wanna pick a moment, it was probably when McCain started into his story about his time as a prisoner of war.
Now, the humor didn't end because of the "power" of McCain's tale of torture and woe. No such bullshit like that a crowd of liberals was brought to silence by war stories or whatever. Sorry, the expiration date on McCain's Hanoi Hilton parable has long since passed, and now it's just become so much rank, inedible cheese. And the Rude Pundit has no problem mocking McCain's experience.
For the Rude Pundit, it was the cynicism of the tale's re-telling in this setting. The exploitation of one's pain for political gain is common. Hell, Democrats do it regularly: Al Gore's sister, John Edwards' child, Joe Biden's wife and baby. But it was the extent of the description and details that just became so repulsive on a gut level.
Conservatives reading this, and there are a few, will see it and say, "Well, of course, you couldn't take it, punk ass pussy liberal," thinking that McCain is a great man. No, no. Sorry, that's not it. The Rude Pundit knows great men and women, people for whom suffering becomes a means by which they attempt to do everything - and that means goddamn everything - to prevent suffering at all levels.
For John McCain, his suffering is an end to itself, the alpha and omega of his life. Beyond that, he's just a cranky fucker who pissed off everyone so now he's a "maverick," which is just a fancy word for "dick."
The point here is that McCain has never moved past it. And he learned the wrong lessons. The lesson of McCain's captivity is not that "No man can always stand alone." If it took getting his bones broken to realize that, then he must have been a shallow, shallow boy prior to the day his plane hit the ground in Vietnam. And if it took something that extreme to make McCain "fall in love" with his country, well, Michelle Obama is owed an apology.
The lessons of McCain's captivity are these: if you are punished enough, you will submit; and that people don't like their homes bombed. Michael Moore takes that second point on in his new book in detail. Essentially, it boils down to: if you fuck people's shit up, they'll want to fuck up yours. Or your children's.
McCain alluded to that first point when he said, "They broke me." Of all the vivid details he developed in his narrative at the convention, he left out what that meant, which was that he signed confessions and gave up information. It's easy to reduce this to "See? Don't torture." But if you expand that notion of submission enough, you take that into other realms: those with power want you to submit, whether through buying their shit, ignoring their crimes, or agreeing with their decisions as long as they leave you alone enough so you can get back to buying their shit.
John McCain didn't come back from Vietnam to change anything. In fact, he wanted to go back and kill more gooks. He didn't get into office to end war. His career has been built on a vested interest in keeping war on people's minds because, without war always being in process or imminent, his story is diminished. John McCain simply has accomplished virtually nothing. He has allowed any cause he might have to be gutted and compromised to worthlessness because, in the end, on campaign finance reform, immigration, torture, everything, he has submitted to those who can break him again and again.
So the Rude Pundit got up and walked out of that theatre, as did many others. He scribbled his little post from last night and hit the bar.
And this morning, here at this suburban Caribou Coffee where he sits tapping this out, he just heard two older men talking about how great a speech it was and how the Democrats can't attack McCain because he's a hero, and all the Rude Pundit can think is how America is filthy with fools.
At some point last night, it stopped being funny. Here was the scene: the Rude Pundit was watching John McCain speak on a movie screen at the Parkway Theatre in south Minneapolis. In the audience were over 300 people who had come to see a comedy show, which happened before McCain spoke. The past couple of nights at the Parkway, the whole thing took on a raucous, Rocky Horror Picture Show/MST3K feel, with anyone who wanted hurling sarcasm at Joe Lieberman and Sarah Palin.
Last night, the set-up was much the same. And, after McCain started speaking, there was much mirth in that way that people will try to top each other. But then, all of a sudden, you could feel the wind go out of the room. It wasn't funny anymore. If you wanna pick a moment, it was probably when McCain started into his story about his time as a prisoner of war.
Now, the humor didn't end because of the "power" of McCain's tale of torture and woe. No such bullshit like that a crowd of liberals was brought to silence by war stories or whatever. Sorry, the expiration date on McCain's Hanoi Hilton parable has long since passed, and now it's just become so much rank, inedible cheese. And the Rude Pundit has no problem mocking McCain's experience.
For the Rude Pundit, it was the cynicism of the tale's re-telling in this setting. The exploitation of one's pain for political gain is common. Hell, Democrats do it regularly: Al Gore's sister, John Edwards' child, Joe Biden's wife and baby. But it was the extent of the description and details that just became so repulsive on a gut level.
Conservatives reading this, and there are a few, will see it and say, "Well, of course, you couldn't take it, punk ass pussy liberal," thinking that McCain is a great man. No, no. Sorry, that's not it. The Rude Pundit knows great men and women, people for whom suffering becomes a means by which they attempt to do everything - and that means goddamn everything - to prevent suffering at all levels.
For John McCain, his suffering is an end to itself, the alpha and omega of his life. Beyond that, he's just a cranky fucker who pissed off everyone so now he's a "maverick," which is just a fancy word for "dick."
The point here is that McCain has never moved past it. And he learned the wrong lessons. The lesson of McCain's captivity is not that "No man can always stand alone." If it took getting his bones broken to realize that, then he must have been a shallow, shallow boy prior to the day his plane hit the ground in Vietnam. And if it took something that extreme to make McCain "fall in love" with his country, well, Michelle Obama is owed an apology.
The lessons of McCain's captivity are these: if you are punished enough, you will submit; and that people don't like their homes bombed. Michael Moore takes that second point on in his new book in detail. Essentially, it boils down to: if you fuck people's shit up, they'll want to fuck up yours. Or your children's.
McCain alluded to that first point when he said, "They broke me." Of all the vivid details he developed in his narrative at the convention, he left out what that meant, which was that he signed confessions and gave up information. It's easy to reduce this to "See? Don't torture." But if you expand that notion of submission enough, you take that into other realms: those with power want you to submit, whether through buying their shit, ignoring their crimes, or agreeing with their decisions as long as they leave you alone enough so you can get back to buying their shit.
John McCain didn't come back from Vietnam to change anything. In fact, he wanted to go back and kill more gooks. He didn't get into office to end war. His career has been built on a vested interest in keeping war on people's minds because, without war always being in process or imminent, his story is diminished. John McCain simply has accomplished virtually nothing. He has allowed any cause he might have to be gutted and compromised to worthlessness because, in the end, on campaign finance reform, immigration, torture, everything, he has submitted to those who can break him again and again.
So the Rude Pundit got up and walked out of that theatre, as did many others. He scribbled his little post from last night and hit the bar.
And this morning, here at this suburban Caribou Coffee where he sits tapping this out, he just heard two older men talking about how great a speech it was and how the Democrats can't attack McCain because he's a hero, and all the Rude Pundit can think is how America is filthy with fools.
Thursday, September 04, 2008
Giuliani: I Am a Man-Cunt:
Rudy Giuliani is a depraved fucker, the kind of whore who'll do anything to show just how a crazy-eyed cunt can take the chowder. Seriously, if Rudy was a hooker, he'd be on his scabby knees in bus stop men's rooms giving blumpkins for five bucks a dump. 'Cause he's a fisting-taking, felching-giving, cum-guzzling bitch. Cleveland steamer this slut and bathe him in golden showers 'cause Rudy can take it all.
In his speech last night to the Republican National Convention, Rudy went tranq gun-ready nutzoid, slashing the air with a gnarled hand, sneering his upper lip, snarling his chemically-whitened donkey teeth, all in an effort to do the bidding of the party that told him to shove his presidential aspirations up his cross-dressing, queer-loving, socialite-fucking ass. And he loved it, he fuckin' lapped it up like a starving labradoodle finding a pool of vomit, stretching his alloted time to the breaking point, an attention whore of appetites unknown outside of the courts of mad queens and simpering princesses.
His vicious attack on Barack Obama must have made the retarded delegates mad with sexual desire for all things bald and skeevy and creepy. They must have gone back to their Twin Cities hotel rooms and had orgies where they all sucked each other's blood and balled in every unstopped-up orifice. For when Rudy starting to lay into Obama, it was with all the force of a man who was told to go fuck himself with his Twin Towers and needed to project his rage at his fellow Republicans onto the Democrats.
When he said, "He is the least experienced candidate for president of the United States in at least the last 100 years," and followed that with, "Not a personal attack," we had entered the kind of through-the-looking-glass derangement that is usually accompanied by carousel music. He followed the crowd into a chant of "Drill, baby, drill," referring to, of course, oil, but it was more a kind of mass hysteria that comes before a hanging.
Fuck it. Watching most of the speeches at the Republican Convention is like watching people give eulogies at their own wake. When Giuliani said of Obama, "He's never had to lead people in crisis," the Rude Pundit thought, "Obama is right now."
Rudy Giuliani is a depraved fucker, the kind of whore who'll do anything to show just how a crazy-eyed cunt can take the chowder. Seriously, if Rudy was a hooker, he'd be on his scabby knees in bus stop men's rooms giving blumpkins for five bucks a dump. 'Cause he's a fisting-taking, felching-giving, cum-guzzling bitch. Cleveland steamer this slut and bathe him in golden showers 'cause Rudy can take it all.
In his speech last night to the Republican National Convention, Rudy went tranq gun-ready nutzoid, slashing the air with a gnarled hand, sneering his upper lip, snarling his chemically-whitened donkey teeth, all in an effort to do the bidding of the party that told him to shove his presidential aspirations up his cross-dressing, queer-loving, socialite-fucking ass. And he loved it, he fuckin' lapped it up like a starving labradoodle finding a pool of vomit, stretching his alloted time to the breaking point, an attention whore of appetites unknown outside of the courts of mad queens and simpering princesses.
His vicious attack on Barack Obama must have made the retarded delegates mad with sexual desire for all things bald and skeevy and creepy. They must have gone back to their Twin Cities hotel rooms and had orgies where they all sucked each other's blood and balled in every unstopped-up orifice. For when Rudy starting to lay into Obama, it was with all the force of a man who was told to go fuck himself with his Twin Towers and needed to project his rage at his fellow Republicans onto the Democrats.
When he said, "He is the least experienced candidate for president of the United States in at least the last 100 years," and followed that with, "Not a personal attack," we had entered the kind of through-the-looking-glass derangement that is usually accompanied by carousel music. He followed the crowd into a chant of "Drill, baby, drill," referring to, of course, oil, but it was more a kind of mass hysteria that comes before a hanging.
Fuck it. Watching most of the speeches at the Republican Convention is like watching people give eulogies at their own wake. When Giuliani said of Obama, "He's never had to lead people in crisis," the Rude Pundit thought, "Obama is right now."
Ed Schultz Appearing Live in Minneapolis Tonight:
Tonight, at Shoot the Messenger, Daily Show creator Lizz Winstead's mock morning news show being performed at the Parkway Theatre, Ed Schultz will be interviewed live on stage. The Rude Pundit is a co-writer on the parody stuff beforehand.
We'll watch John McCain's speech together on a giant screen. And that will be followed by an awesome hootenanny featuring Jim Walsh and other musicians.
Tickets are still available from Brown Paper Tickets.
Also, for those who have been asking, the Rude Pundit's hanging at the theatre in the afternoon and evening, as well as over at Pepito's. That apparently means something to Minneapolisites.
Tonight, at Shoot the Messenger, Daily Show creator Lizz Winstead's mock morning news show being performed at the Parkway Theatre, Ed Schultz will be interviewed live on stage. The Rude Pundit is a co-writer on the parody stuff beforehand.
We'll watch John McCain's speech together on a giant screen. And that will be followed by an awesome hootenanny featuring Jim Walsh and other musicians.
Tickets are still available from Brown Paper Tickets.
Also, for those who have been asking, the Rude Pundit's hanging at the theatre in the afternoon and evening, as well as over at Pepito's. That apparently means something to Minneapolisites.
Wednesday, September 03, 2008
Sarah Palin's Speech - Random Observations (Briefly):
So, like, what the fuck does the governor of Alaska do? You can talk about getting rid of corruption as much as you want, but you're still lappin' at that pipeline like a rim job-givin' man whore. Essentially, one's job as governor of Alaska is to keep the oil companies happy as a pig in shit. Because without them, Alaska would still just be a territory of outlaws, moose hunters, and prospectors wondering what the fuck to do about the Inuit.
And to answer another of Palin's statements, um, a community organizer in the projects of Chicago is probably a little more active than a small town mayor in a distant suburb of Alaska. All Mayor Palin had to deal with was tax abatements for the new Target and the occasional walrus attack.
By the way, using one's PTA membership as an example of one's experience to be the vice president of the United States is like saying that because you once took an aspirin, you can handle your speedballs.
So the reason many of us are saying that Sarah Palin is unqualified is not sexism or anti-middle class bias or sucking up to the Washington power structure or whatever stupid ass excuse the right desperately is clinging to in order to calm that gut churn they're feeling. No, the reason we think Sarah Palin is unqualified is because she's unqualified.
(And, oh, yeah, she sucks balls as a speaker.)
So, like, what the fuck does the governor of Alaska do? You can talk about getting rid of corruption as much as you want, but you're still lappin' at that pipeline like a rim job-givin' man whore. Essentially, one's job as governor of Alaska is to keep the oil companies happy as a pig in shit. Because without them, Alaska would still just be a territory of outlaws, moose hunters, and prospectors wondering what the fuck to do about the Inuit.
And to answer another of Palin's statements, um, a community organizer in the projects of Chicago is probably a little more active than a small town mayor in a distant suburb of Alaska. All Mayor Palin had to deal with was tax abatements for the new Target and the occasional walrus attack.
By the way, using one's PTA membership as an example of one's experience to be the vice president of the United States is like saying that because you once took an aspirin, you can handle your speedballs.
So the reason many of us are saying that Sarah Palin is unqualified is not sexism or anti-middle class bias or sucking up to the Washington power structure or whatever stupid ass excuse the right desperately is clinging to in order to calm that gut churn they're feeling. No, the reason we think Sarah Palin is unqualified is because she's unqualified.
(And, oh, yeah, she sucks balls as a speaker.)
Tuesday, September 02, 2008
Bristol Palin's Vagina Considered:
Let us pause for a moment to think about Bristol Palin's 17 year-old vagina. Don't worry, fellas and gals. The age of consent in Alaska is 16, so not only can you think away, but you don't have to worry that 18 year-old Levi Johnston raped her statutorily. Already the governor's daughter, Bristol Palin and her vagina were thrust into a national spotlight thanks to the pure beauty queen/newscaster stupidity of her mother, Republican vice presidential candidate Sarah Palin, and the McCain campaign, which seems to act more like an agitated old man with Alzheimer's than the actual agitated old man the campaign is for. So as we think about Bristol Palin's vagina and the obvious activity it has experienced, remember that we did not ask for her vagina to be shoved in our faces.
First off, how much of a fucking idiot do you have to be to even allow yourself to be a national nominee if your high school senior daughter is pregnant? Sarah Palin, whose frightening 1980s head shot looks like every white girl the Rude Pundit ever fucked in college, believed that her personal ambitions were more important than Bristol's vagina when Bristol's vagina should have come first.
When it was announced that the teenager had decided "on her own" that she would keep the baby, evangelicals masturbated at the idea of Bristol Palin's vagina, which was possibly roughed-up by Levi's stumbling fingers before he fucked her for a couple of seconds, depositing his sperm-rich semen into Bristol. The Family Research Council released a statement praising Bristol for "choosing life in the midst of a difficult situation."
What the fuck's all this shit about "decisions" and "choice"? The point of the pro-life movement is that there ought to be no choice available. High school hockey player with douchebag whiskers knocks your daughter up? She's having that fucking baby. Because if there was ever a moment where there was a choice, that makes her goddamned pro-choice.
So, really, was there ever a discussion, at any point? Did Bristol Palin ever get to say, "Papa Don't Preach"-style, "I'm keepin' my baby?" 'Cause, see, that seems at odds with the goals of Feminists for Life, of which Sarah is a proud member.
Bristol Palin's vagina, which may or may not be topped by a tuft of pubic hair shaved in various shapes, is important to our national discourse for obvious reasons. Her vagina, however tight or loose it may be, reveals how degraded conservative moral beliefs actually are, as if we needed any more evidence that abstinence education is a complete failure, even from one's parents, that teenagers wanna fuck and are gonna fuck no matter how much you threaten disease, babies, or the stink-eye of Jesus.
But, at the end of the day, the fact that we are discussing Bristol Palin's vagina means that the John McCain campaign is effectively over. Not because of the fact of the vagina, but because of the fact that John McCain probably gave more consideration and background checking to the servants at his and Cindy's houses. He has fucked the goat. Even if, as some are suggesting, he's gonna try to take a mulligan on the decision and re-boot to Lieberman, well, if one gets that 3 a.m. call for a crisis, one had better make the right decision by 3:01.
Note: An earlier version of this mistakenly ascribed the lyrics to "Papa Don't Preach" to "Like a Virgin." The Rude Pundit regrets the confusion over Madonna's oeuvre. Thanks to obviously gay male reader JC for pointing this out.
Let us pause for a moment to think about Bristol Palin's 17 year-old vagina. Don't worry, fellas and gals. The age of consent in Alaska is 16, so not only can you think away, but you don't have to worry that 18 year-old Levi Johnston raped her statutorily. Already the governor's daughter, Bristol Palin and her vagina were thrust into a national spotlight thanks to the pure beauty queen/newscaster stupidity of her mother, Republican vice presidential candidate Sarah Palin, and the McCain campaign, which seems to act more like an agitated old man with Alzheimer's than the actual agitated old man the campaign is for. So as we think about Bristol Palin's vagina and the obvious activity it has experienced, remember that we did not ask for her vagina to be shoved in our faces.
First off, how much of a fucking idiot do you have to be to even allow yourself to be a national nominee if your high school senior daughter is pregnant? Sarah Palin, whose frightening 1980s head shot looks like every white girl the Rude Pundit ever fucked in college, believed that her personal ambitions were more important than Bristol's vagina when Bristol's vagina should have come first.
When it was announced that the teenager had decided "on her own" that she would keep the baby, evangelicals masturbated at the idea of Bristol Palin's vagina, which was possibly roughed-up by Levi's stumbling fingers before he fucked her for a couple of seconds, depositing his sperm-rich semen into Bristol. The Family Research Council released a statement praising Bristol for "choosing life in the midst of a difficult situation."
What the fuck's all this shit about "decisions" and "choice"? The point of the pro-life movement is that there ought to be no choice available. High school hockey player with douchebag whiskers knocks your daughter up? She's having that fucking baby. Because if there was ever a moment where there was a choice, that makes her goddamned pro-choice.
So, really, was there ever a discussion, at any point? Did Bristol Palin ever get to say, "Papa Don't Preach"-style, "I'm keepin' my baby?" 'Cause, see, that seems at odds with the goals of Feminists for Life, of which Sarah is a proud member.
Bristol Palin's vagina, which may or may not be topped by a tuft of pubic hair shaved in various shapes, is important to our national discourse for obvious reasons. Her vagina, however tight or loose it may be, reveals how degraded conservative moral beliefs actually are, as if we needed any more evidence that abstinence education is a complete failure, even from one's parents, that teenagers wanna fuck and are gonna fuck no matter how much you threaten disease, babies, or the stink-eye of Jesus.
But, at the end of the day, the fact that we are discussing Bristol Palin's vagina means that the John McCain campaign is effectively over. Not because of the fact of the vagina, but because of the fact that John McCain probably gave more consideration and background checking to the servants at his and Cindy's houses. He has fucked the goat. Even if, as some are suggesting, he's gonna try to take a mulligan on the decision and re-boot to Lieberman, well, if one gets that 3 a.m. call for a crisis, one had better make the right decision by 3:01.
Note: An earlier version of this mistakenly ascribed the lyrics to "Papa Don't Preach" to "Like a Virgin." The Rude Pundit regrets the confusion over Madonna's oeuvre. Thanks to obviously gay male reader JC for pointing this out.
Monday, September 01, 2008
Gustav Doesn't Give a Fuck About Your Anniversaries, Conventions, or Holidays:
The levees are being overtopped in a Category 2 storm. That fact alone bespeaks decades of criminality, apathy, ignorance, and greed that falls on all parties, all politicians, all officials. Remember: last time the levees failed because they broke. Now, the levees aren't even good enough if they do their actual, intended jobs. And don't listen to anyone say whether or not everything's fine until they show us. There's barges and ships loose that might damage the walls. Again.
All but one member of the Rude Family have evacuated across the continent, as their homes are in the path of the eye of Hurricane Gustav. The Rude Brother is staying behind, figuring if a little bitch like Shepard Smith can do it, so can he. The Rude Pundit said he'll look forward to seeing aerial footage of his brother waving on a roof. No, it probably won't be as bad as Katrina, but that's like saying getting kicked in the balls hurts less in the long run than getting punched in the nose.
With that in mind, there's shit that doesn't matter. Shit that'll wait until tomorrow. Here's a list of things the Rude Pundit doesn't give a fuck about today:
1. The repulsive cynicism of the selection of the obviously insane, stupid, and corrupt Sarah Palin as John McCain's running mate, proof positive that Karl Rove is now running the show.
2. The Republicans supposedly showing empathy with Louisiana by canceling events at the convention and changing all the corporate-sponsored parties to "fundraisers," which, one presumes, means instead of calling something the "Exxon/Eli Lilly Drunken Lobbyfest with Whores," it'll be the "Exxon/Eli Lilly Drunken Fundraiser with Whores." The road goes on forever, but the party never ends. (Fun fact: The National Review was going to sponsor a Mardi Gras-themed event on the anniversary of Katrina. God, while mouth raping the soul of William F. Buckley, decided that was a stupid idea.)
3. John McCain being all mavericky by exploiting the tragedy to distract from his frightening incompetence.
4. George Bush and New Orleans Mayor Ray Nagin each trying to top each other for preemptive ass-covering rhetoric.
5. Riding around Minneapolis on Labor Day and being able to go to every store or restaurant you could go to any day of the week. Workers of the world, unite. You have nothing to lose but your time-and-a-half.
The Rude Pundit's up here in the Twin Cities, where the Mississippi River starts to narrow. He's heading out to the unabashed and quite useless anarchy of the protests. The police are out in vicious force, not distinguishing between knuckleheads and nuns. He's got the ACLU's phone number in his pocket, just in case.
Starting tomorrow, reports from the site, including audio. For now, in honor of Gustav, the Rude Pundit's gonna go punch a Swede.
The levees are being overtopped in a Category 2 storm. That fact alone bespeaks decades of criminality, apathy, ignorance, and greed that falls on all parties, all politicians, all officials. Remember: last time the levees failed because they broke. Now, the levees aren't even good enough if they do their actual, intended jobs. And don't listen to anyone say whether or not everything's fine until they show us. There's barges and ships loose that might damage the walls. Again.
All but one member of the Rude Family have evacuated across the continent, as their homes are in the path of the eye of Hurricane Gustav. The Rude Brother is staying behind, figuring if a little bitch like Shepard Smith can do it, so can he. The Rude Pundit said he'll look forward to seeing aerial footage of his brother waving on a roof. No, it probably won't be as bad as Katrina, but that's like saying getting kicked in the balls hurts less in the long run than getting punched in the nose.
With that in mind, there's shit that doesn't matter. Shit that'll wait until tomorrow. Here's a list of things the Rude Pundit doesn't give a fuck about today:
1. The repulsive cynicism of the selection of the obviously insane, stupid, and corrupt Sarah Palin as John McCain's running mate, proof positive that Karl Rove is now running the show.
2. The Republicans supposedly showing empathy with Louisiana by canceling events at the convention and changing all the corporate-sponsored parties to "fundraisers," which, one presumes, means instead of calling something the "Exxon/Eli Lilly Drunken Lobbyfest with Whores," it'll be the "Exxon/Eli Lilly Drunken Fundraiser with Whores." The road goes on forever, but the party never ends. (Fun fact: The National Review was going to sponsor a Mardi Gras-themed event on the anniversary of Katrina. God, while mouth raping the soul of William F. Buckley, decided that was a stupid idea.)
3. John McCain being all mavericky by exploiting the tragedy to distract from his frightening incompetence.
4. George Bush and New Orleans Mayor Ray Nagin each trying to top each other for preemptive ass-covering rhetoric.
5. Riding around Minneapolis on Labor Day and being able to go to every store or restaurant you could go to any day of the week. Workers of the world, unite. You have nothing to lose but your time-and-a-half.
The Rude Pundit's up here in the Twin Cities, where the Mississippi River starts to narrow. He's heading out to the unabashed and quite useless anarchy of the protests. The police are out in vicious force, not distinguishing between knuckleheads and nuns. He's got the ACLU's phone number in his pocket, just in case.
Starting tomorrow, reports from the site, including audio. For now, in honor of Gustav, the Rude Pundit's gonna go punch a Swede.
Friday, August 29, 2008
Regarding Sarah Palin (and One or Two Other Things):
1. So John McCain thinks women are so stupid that all a candidate needs is a vagina to please them? One hole's as good as another, eh, maverick? It's like he thought, "You call that inexperience? I'll show you inexperience." Except that'd be suicidal. (Bonus points for McCain's introduction, which sounded like a cheap beauty pageant entrance: "She's not from these parts and she's not from Washington. But when you get to know her, you're going to be as impressed as I am." It's like a nominee for prom queen in Walla-Walla in 1952.)
2. Starting tomorrow and for the entire week, the Rude Pundit will be in Minneapolis/St. Paul, as one of the writers for Lizz Winstead's Shoot the Messenger (at the Parkway Theater September 2-4). Oh, and the Republican Convention is there. He's still trying to secure credentials for the actual big event, but has lots of plans otherwise, involving audio shit and interviews and more.
But if anyone has some spare credentials just laying around....
3. Where should the Rude Pundit drink in downtown Minneapolis?
1. So John McCain thinks women are so stupid that all a candidate needs is a vagina to please them? One hole's as good as another, eh, maverick? It's like he thought, "You call that inexperience? I'll show you inexperience." Except that'd be suicidal. (Bonus points for McCain's introduction, which sounded like a cheap beauty pageant entrance: "She's not from these parts and she's not from Washington. But when you get to know her, you're going to be as impressed as I am." It's like a nominee for prom queen in Walla-Walla in 1952.)
2. Starting tomorrow and for the entire week, the Rude Pundit will be in Minneapolis/St. Paul, as one of the writers for Lizz Winstead's Shoot the Messenger (at the Parkway Theater September 2-4). Oh, and the Republican Convention is there. He's still trying to secure credentials for the actual big event, but has lots of plans otherwise, involving audio shit and interviews and more.
But if anyone has some spare credentials just laying around....
3. Where should the Rude Pundit drink in downtown Minneapolis?
Obama to the GOP: "Go Fuck Yourselves":
In February of 2007, the Rude Pundit wrote that Republicans were shitting blood over an Obama candidacy. Expect toilet sales to go through the roof this morning.
The face of Alex Castellanos, Republican stooge for Romney and CNN "analyst," really said it all. When he appeared after Barack Obama's DNC acceptance speech, he looked like a man who was about to vomit from being kicked so hard in the balls. "Whoever didn’t get picked for Republican VP today may be a lucky Republican," Castellanos said, although he may as well have said, "Oh, man, my nutsack."
Who could've figured out that Obama's strategy these last couple of months was to play rope-a-dope with John McCain? Let the GOP throw all the shit they can at him, the "celebrity" nonsense, the experience canard, all the lies about Obama's beliefs and plans: he took each blow. And then, in front of a Rolling Stones concert-sized crowd with millions of people watching at home, the man let loose.
For surely, beyond the "holy fuck, we nominated a black man" historic part of things, the most healing part of Obama's speech was not the muted version of his soaring rhetoric. Nor was it the infinitely ordinary and mostly safe laundry list of "shit what I wanna do." No, for Democrats, we needed to see a candidate directly and passionately tell the GOP and John McCain, in no uncertain terms, "Go fuck yourselves." When he looked out onto that ocean of support and said, "Tonight, I say to the American people, to Democrats and Republicans and independents across this great land — enough!" it was like a long-delayed orgasm finally shuddering through the entire body of the Democratic Party.
And then he took Karl Rove out to the woodshed, pulled out a switch, and smacked that big ass bloody. After talking about his life, he said, "I don't know what kind of lives John McCain thinks that celebrities lead, but this has been mine." After talking about the stupidity of America's strategy against terrorism, he said, "John McCain likes to say that he'll follow bin Laden to the gates of hell — but he won't even go to the cave where he lives." He mocked the Atwater/Rove reduction of politics to bullshit things that don't affect anyone's lives: "You make a big election about small things." And he fuckin' addressed McCain directly, taking on the digs at his patriotism, "So I've got news for you, John McCain. We all put our country first." When's the last time you heard a candidate call out another candidate like that?
The other major accomplishment of Obama's speech was that he didn't run away from the real role of government. In saying that Washington can be a force of positive change and progress in people's lives, he started to set fire to crazed pagan altars to Ronald Reagan that have been erected by both parties over the last three decades. He said that the good government can do "is the only reason I am standing here tonight." Citing the GI Bill, food stamps, and student loans, he made a case for liberalism as the transformative force it is supposed to be.
We can complain, and we should, about his failure to mention the damage to the Constitution, the Supreme Court, torture, and so many other major issues. We can say, and we should, that his promises of bipartisanship are another version of Clintonesque triangulation, progress, yes, but not progressive. Still, it's politics, man. Hell, at this point, we'll be lucky to get back to moderate-right in the White House. But it's good to know that Obama understands that you get nothing done if you don't get there.
After watching Mondale, Dukakis, Gore, Kerry, and, to a large extent, Clinton act like they were supposed to turn the other cheek again and again, it was goddamn cathartic to see a Democratic candidate reach up and grab the hand that was slapping him and say, "No, not this time around, motherfucker." No wonder the right didn't know how to react. It was like seeing a prison bitch grab his rapist and beat his head on the side of the bunk. Rove won't die easily, though. When they weren't being attacked, Republicans mocked John Kerry's military service, medals, and wounds. Imagine what they'll do when they're cornered.
Gird yer loins, motherfuckers, and break out the axes. We've joined the battle.
In February of 2007, the Rude Pundit wrote that Republicans were shitting blood over an Obama candidacy. Expect toilet sales to go through the roof this morning.
The face of Alex Castellanos, Republican stooge for Romney and CNN "analyst," really said it all. When he appeared after Barack Obama's DNC acceptance speech, he looked like a man who was about to vomit from being kicked so hard in the balls. "Whoever didn’t get picked for Republican VP today may be a lucky Republican," Castellanos said, although he may as well have said, "Oh, man, my nutsack."
Who could've figured out that Obama's strategy these last couple of months was to play rope-a-dope with John McCain? Let the GOP throw all the shit they can at him, the "celebrity" nonsense, the experience canard, all the lies about Obama's beliefs and plans: he took each blow. And then, in front of a Rolling Stones concert-sized crowd with millions of people watching at home, the man let loose.
For surely, beyond the "holy fuck, we nominated a black man" historic part of things, the most healing part of Obama's speech was not the muted version of his soaring rhetoric. Nor was it the infinitely ordinary and mostly safe laundry list of "shit what I wanna do." No, for Democrats, we needed to see a candidate directly and passionately tell the GOP and John McCain, in no uncertain terms, "Go fuck yourselves." When he looked out onto that ocean of support and said, "Tonight, I say to the American people, to Democrats and Republicans and independents across this great land — enough!" it was like a long-delayed orgasm finally shuddering through the entire body of the Democratic Party.
And then he took Karl Rove out to the woodshed, pulled out a switch, and smacked that big ass bloody. After talking about his life, he said, "I don't know what kind of lives John McCain thinks that celebrities lead, but this has been mine." After talking about the stupidity of America's strategy against terrorism, he said, "John McCain likes to say that he'll follow bin Laden to the gates of hell — but he won't even go to the cave where he lives." He mocked the Atwater/Rove reduction of politics to bullshit things that don't affect anyone's lives: "You make a big election about small things." And he fuckin' addressed McCain directly, taking on the digs at his patriotism, "So I've got news for you, John McCain. We all put our country first." When's the last time you heard a candidate call out another candidate like that?
The other major accomplishment of Obama's speech was that he didn't run away from the real role of government. In saying that Washington can be a force of positive change and progress in people's lives, he started to set fire to crazed pagan altars to Ronald Reagan that have been erected by both parties over the last three decades. He said that the good government can do "is the only reason I am standing here tonight." Citing the GI Bill, food stamps, and student loans, he made a case for liberalism as the transformative force it is supposed to be.
We can complain, and we should, about his failure to mention the damage to the Constitution, the Supreme Court, torture, and so many other major issues. We can say, and we should, that his promises of bipartisanship are another version of Clintonesque triangulation, progress, yes, but not progressive. Still, it's politics, man. Hell, at this point, we'll be lucky to get back to moderate-right in the White House. But it's good to know that Obama understands that you get nothing done if you don't get there.
After watching Mondale, Dukakis, Gore, Kerry, and, to a large extent, Clinton act like they were supposed to turn the other cheek again and again, it was goddamn cathartic to see a Democratic candidate reach up and grab the hand that was slapping him and say, "No, not this time around, motherfucker." No wonder the right didn't know how to react. It was like seeing a prison bitch grab his rapist and beat his head on the side of the bunk. Rove won't die easily, though. When they weren't being attacked, Republicans mocked John Kerry's military service, medals, and wounds. Imagine what they'll do when they're cornered.
Gird yer loins, motherfuckers, and break out the axes. We've joined the battle.
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Clinton, Kerry, and Biden Take It to Third Base:
One of the more interesting aspects of the Democratic National Convention so far has been the way in which the master narrative of the event has played out. Where previous conventions could, more or less, be charted as straight lines with occasional bumps and a jump at the end, this one appears to be following a well-constructed plot line. Indeed, if you think about it, and, indeed, the Rude Pundit has, you could say that the whole event is just like running the sexual bases.
(Note: the Rude Pundit's referring here to the well-worn baseball metaphor used for a straight couple. Two dudes pretty much move instantly from "Howdy" to "Your mouth or mine?" And two women? Well, it's less like baseball and more like a rousing game of squash.)
See, the opening night, with its warm hug from Michelle Obama, was like first base. You know, a little touchy-touch, some smooching, maybe a little tongue. Mostly innocent but with promises of more to come. The second night was second base, all about the tits. Dennis Kucinich got his hand under the bra, Brian Schweitzer unsnapped it, and then Mark Warner came along and just uncomprehendingly fumbled around with the breasts for a little while until Hillary Clinton was up and she showed everyone how you handle some boobs, pinching, licking, and nibbling those nipples until she either had to go all the way or stop. (And, by the way, if you know your way around a nipple and the nipple's owner is sensitive enough and wanting it, you can give one hell of an orgasm.)
Last night? That was third base - time to get the cock and pussy into the action. Bill Clinton gave head like an old whore in an alley behind a South Padre Island bar at spring break. Of course he was gonna give a great speech. Of course he was gonna put his all into it, sometimes even finding himself enjoying it. Of all the people there, Bill Clinton knows the way this whole thing works and his place in the world. Of course, he was gonna position his legacy as the way for Obama. Fuck, compare his hero's welcome to the dread the Republicans are gonna feel when Bush shows up to their party next week. What Bill Clinton knows is that there is always tomorrow, and he's got shit to do where he'll need an Obama administration's enthusiastic backing. So he broke out the lip balm, got on his knees, and gave a grand hummer, even mentioning torture and Katrina.
Then John Kerry turns out to be one of those dudes who looks like he'll be lame in the sack and all of a sudden shows he knows his way around a pussy, finger fucking gentle and hard. It was one of those enraging and sad moments where, like Al Gore before him, you wondered, "Where the fuck were you four years ago?" Motherfucker ripped into John McCain and George Bush. He even evoked his post-military time opposing the Vietnam war: "Years ago when we protested a war, people would weigh in against us saying, 'My country, right or wrong.' Our answer? Absolutely, my country, right or wrong. When right, keep it right. When wrong, make it right. Sometimes loving your country demands you must tell the truth to power." He rarely ever made mention of this in 2004, and it's why he only ever got to third base.
And, to drive this metaphor into the ground, Joe Biden? The reliable muffdiver, not great or graceful, but adept with lip on lip action and able to find a clit with his tongue, and really, what else do you need? Biden's speech was old time pugilistic rhetoric that wouldn't have been out of place on the stump in the 1930s. It was Irish working class bluster, repeating advice his dear aul Mutter gave him: "When I got knocked down by guys bigger than me, she sent me back out and demanded that I bloody their nose so I could walk down that street the next day." His language didn't soar, he used a lead pipe and not a razor to take down McCain, and he stumbled a number of times.
But he was out there to get people angry, and in that, he succeeded. The final act of foreplay, exactly as the DNC needed it to be. One part of politics is manipulation and, if the Democrats have played this right, you should be so hard or wet that you can't stand it. And then Barack Obama can walk in tonight and take you all the way to home.
One of the more interesting aspects of the Democratic National Convention so far has been the way in which the master narrative of the event has played out. Where previous conventions could, more or less, be charted as straight lines with occasional bumps and a jump at the end, this one appears to be following a well-constructed plot line. Indeed, if you think about it, and, indeed, the Rude Pundit has, you could say that the whole event is just like running the sexual bases.
(Note: the Rude Pundit's referring here to the well-worn baseball metaphor used for a straight couple. Two dudes pretty much move instantly from "Howdy" to "Your mouth or mine?" And two women? Well, it's less like baseball and more like a rousing game of squash.)
See, the opening night, with its warm hug from Michelle Obama, was like first base. You know, a little touchy-touch, some smooching, maybe a little tongue. Mostly innocent but with promises of more to come. The second night was second base, all about the tits. Dennis Kucinich got his hand under the bra, Brian Schweitzer unsnapped it, and then Mark Warner came along and just uncomprehendingly fumbled around with the breasts for a little while until Hillary Clinton was up and she showed everyone how you handle some boobs, pinching, licking, and nibbling those nipples until she either had to go all the way or stop. (And, by the way, if you know your way around a nipple and the nipple's owner is sensitive enough and wanting it, you can give one hell of an orgasm.)
Last night? That was third base - time to get the cock and pussy into the action. Bill Clinton gave head like an old whore in an alley behind a South Padre Island bar at spring break. Of course he was gonna give a great speech. Of course he was gonna put his all into it, sometimes even finding himself enjoying it. Of all the people there, Bill Clinton knows the way this whole thing works and his place in the world. Of course, he was gonna position his legacy as the way for Obama. Fuck, compare his hero's welcome to the dread the Republicans are gonna feel when Bush shows up to their party next week. What Bill Clinton knows is that there is always tomorrow, and he's got shit to do where he'll need an Obama administration's enthusiastic backing. So he broke out the lip balm, got on his knees, and gave a grand hummer, even mentioning torture and Katrina.
Then John Kerry turns out to be one of those dudes who looks like he'll be lame in the sack and all of a sudden shows he knows his way around a pussy, finger fucking gentle and hard. It was one of those enraging and sad moments where, like Al Gore before him, you wondered, "Where the fuck were you four years ago?" Motherfucker ripped into John McCain and George Bush. He even evoked his post-military time opposing the Vietnam war: "Years ago when we protested a war, people would weigh in against us saying, 'My country, right or wrong.' Our answer? Absolutely, my country, right or wrong. When right, keep it right. When wrong, make it right. Sometimes loving your country demands you must tell the truth to power." He rarely ever made mention of this in 2004, and it's why he only ever got to third base.
And, to drive this metaphor into the ground, Joe Biden? The reliable muffdiver, not great or graceful, but adept with lip on lip action and able to find a clit with his tongue, and really, what else do you need? Biden's speech was old time pugilistic rhetoric that wouldn't have been out of place on the stump in the 1930s. It was Irish working class bluster, repeating advice his dear aul Mutter gave him: "When I got knocked down by guys bigger than me, she sent me back out and demanded that I bloody their nose so I could walk down that street the next day." His language didn't soar, he used a lead pipe and not a razor to take down McCain, and he stumbled a number of times.
But he was out there to get people angry, and in that, he succeeded. The final act of foreplay, exactly as the DNC needed it to be. One part of politics is manipulation and, if the Democrats have played this right, you should be so hard or wet that you can't stand it. And then Barack Obama can walk in tonight and take you all the way to home.
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Hillary Clinton Is Not a Liar:
You can say a lot of things about Hillary Clinton's speech last night at the Democratic Convention. You can say that she's just not the most compelling big house speaker (although in the last part, she hit a stride that was positively energizing). You can say that she delivered some vicious uppercuts to John McCain. You can say that in asking of her followers, "Were you in this campaign just for me?" she made the most compelling case to her diehards for voting for Obama. You can say all that and so much more. But, in that speech, on that evening, you cannot call her a liar.
What would lying have been? If Clinton had gotten all faux sentimental about her relationship with Barack Obama, pretending like they're anything other than ideological allies who fought a vicious battle. She didn't make up shit about the two of them being friends or hanging out with Michelle or working together on issues in the Senate. It's goddamn hilarious that the one criticism that's been pronounced by the pundostoogery on TV is that the speech had no personal touch about her and Obama. Jesus fuckin' Christ. No. None of that. It would have been false. It would have been a bullshit approach. (And had she done it, you can bet that the same people would have been calling her out for it being bullshit.)
Instead, she did what she had to do, the good soldier. She told the delegates who might be thinking of straying to McCain or not voting at all not to be such tools. She gave a kitchen sink list of Democratic beliefs that would get knocked off the table should McCain be elected. And she said, more or less, "Don't be stupid."
Yes, like Michelle Obama's speech Monday night, Clinton's was, for the most part, directed at idiots and the media. The idiots are the (mostly mythical) Clinton supporters who can't get over the primaries. What she said last night is if they're not voting for Obama, they were never really Clinton supporters in the first place. Much of the rest of the speech was for the media, drunk with power and forced to fill too many hours, creating dissent where little to none exists. Of course Hillary Clinton believes she should be the nominee. She'll believe that until the day she dies. But she's not a destructive egomaniac, as the mainstream media desperately need her to be.
Things didn't get interesting until the very last section of the speech. When she finally got to her feminist beliefs and women's history, she went to town. This was Hillary Clinton liberated of the need to please her campaign, the consultants and the clowns, the odious Mark Penn, her needy husband whose ego was more bruised than hers. When she said, "In America, you always keep going. We're Americans. We're not big on quitting," she offered a valedictory for her efforts and the efforts of the women who preceded her. In the end, she brought it back to the Democratic Party, the nation, and, no doubt, her: "We've got to ensure that the choice we make in this election honors the sacrifices of all who came before us and will fill the lives of our children with possibility and hope." She will become one of those who sacrificed. She wanted to be the end of a path - instead, she has realized she is another step on it.
She may not have been cozy and warm to Obama. But she didn't lie. What she was saying is that you don't have to like the nominee, you don't have to want to have a beer with him or even invite him to dinner. There are ideas you value, she said, they are what's important. Believe her or not.
You can say a lot of things about Hillary Clinton's speech last night at the Democratic Convention. You can say that she's just not the most compelling big house speaker (although in the last part, she hit a stride that was positively energizing). You can say that she delivered some vicious uppercuts to John McCain. You can say that in asking of her followers, "Were you in this campaign just for me?" she made the most compelling case to her diehards for voting for Obama. You can say all that and so much more. But, in that speech, on that evening, you cannot call her a liar.
What would lying have been? If Clinton had gotten all faux sentimental about her relationship with Barack Obama, pretending like they're anything other than ideological allies who fought a vicious battle. She didn't make up shit about the two of them being friends or hanging out with Michelle or working together on issues in the Senate. It's goddamn hilarious that the one criticism that's been pronounced by the pundostoogery on TV is that the speech had no personal touch about her and Obama. Jesus fuckin' Christ. No. None of that. It would have been false. It would have been a bullshit approach. (And had she done it, you can bet that the same people would have been calling her out for it being bullshit.)
Instead, she did what she had to do, the good soldier. She told the delegates who might be thinking of straying to McCain or not voting at all not to be such tools. She gave a kitchen sink list of Democratic beliefs that would get knocked off the table should McCain be elected. And she said, more or less, "Don't be stupid."
Yes, like Michelle Obama's speech Monday night, Clinton's was, for the most part, directed at idiots and the media. The idiots are the (mostly mythical) Clinton supporters who can't get over the primaries. What she said last night is if they're not voting for Obama, they were never really Clinton supporters in the first place. Much of the rest of the speech was for the media, drunk with power and forced to fill too many hours, creating dissent where little to none exists. Of course Hillary Clinton believes she should be the nominee. She'll believe that until the day she dies. But she's not a destructive egomaniac, as the mainstream media desperately need her to be.
Things didn't get interesting until the very last section of the speech. When she finally got to her feminist beliefs and women's history, she went to town. This was Hillary Clinton liberated of the need to please her campaign, the consultants and the clowns, the odious Mark Penn, her needy husband whose ego was more bruised than hers. When she said, "In America, you always keep going. We're Americans. We're not big on quitting," she offered a valedictory for her efforts and the efforts of the women who preceded her. In the end, she brought it back to the Democratic Party, the nation, and, no doubt, her: "We've got to ensure that the choice we make in this election honors the sacrifices of all who came before us and will fill the lives of our children with possibility and hope." She will become one of those who sacrificed. She wanted to be the end of a path - instead, she has realized she is another step on it.
She may not have been cozy and warm to Obama. But she didn't lie. What she was saying is that you don't have to like the nominee, you don't have to want to have a beer with him or even invite him to dinner. There are ideas you value, she said, they are what's important. Believe her or not.
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