Monday, October 20, 2008
Republicans Get Back to Their Roots:
When you've got nothing left, you finally get back to basics. Republicans have tried everything to slow the Obama/Democratic juggernaut this year. And nothing - discussions of tax policy, health care, national security (which has worked so very often), and more - has stuck. So what's left? Time to get old school on some motherfuckers. Time to bring out the arguments that Republicans (and the right wing in general) have used again and again to try to rip this fucking election out of its seemingly inevitable ending. And that means it's time to unleash the ancient demons to divide and conquer or, at the very least, just divide. For instance:
Blackfacing Powell:
We finally know that, now that he's endorsed Barack Obama, Colin Powell is just another nigger to the right wing. Oh, fuck, conservatives couldn't get enough of Powell for so long, loving that he had all those medals and that woolly hair and was black (but not so black as to make others uncomfortable), and that they could even let him in the front door of the White House because they could trot him out to make any despicable cause seem honorable and just. Yeah, yeah, yeah, Powell's finally learning that, at the end of the day, how easy it is to get that coal black smudged on his face so that he's only a brother who, of course, would support a brother because he's a brother. By supporting Obama, he's demonstrating that deep inside his nigger heart was another coon waiting for a chance to bite his generous massa's hand.
It's fuckin' hilarious, innit? To hear how quickly the right has rendered Powell's endorsement as race-based, as the porcine shitbucket that undulates like a human, Rush Limbaugh, couldn't even wait until his show today to attack Powell for that very reason, as Nazi-lovin' Pat Buchanan seconded. And they simply act as if "Well, isn't it obvious?" that he'd do it because of their shared negritude. Powell's learning that no matter how much he's done the bidding of the right, honor and respect is cheap among motherfuckers because, if they'd fuck their mothers, then they would surely fuck you.
So now it's fine to say that the newspapers that endorsed John McCain, and Richard Petty and retired generals and others, only did because McCain's white. Let's have that goddamn discussion.
Why Not Bolsheviks?:
John McCain, in his typically pussy style, has started implying, without directly saying, that Barack Obama's tax policies are "socialism." Look at this little bitch way he's doing it: "You see, he believes in redistributing wealth, not in policies that help us all make more of it. Joe, in his plainspoken way, said this sounded a lot like socialism. And a lot of Americans are thinking along those same lines."
You see that? John McCain's not saying it's socialism, but Joe the fuckin' plumber is sayin' it. And Joe? That cocksucker is talkin' for all Americans now - he's our fuckin' blue collar spokesdude. McCain went on in his punk ass radio address, "In Europe, the Socialist leaders who so admire my opponent are upfront about their objectives." Hey, he's just reporting.
In Fayetteville, North Carolina, which may or may not be "real America" or "real North Carolina," because it's got colleges and it's hard to keep track of what's real in this country anymore, a woman at a diner started yelling, "Socialist, socialist, socialist" at Barack Obama. But because Obama's not a little bitch, he went over to the woman, who refused to engage with him because, ultimately, she's a coward and an idiot who wouldn't know real and actual socialism if it bit her on the ass and yelled, "I'm Socialism." And, truly, do we not know what she really wanted to shout?
Why not just say that Obama is Bolshevik? That he's gonna bring Leninism to the United States? Why not say he's a wild-eyed bohemian bent on bombing shit? (Oh, wait, they're already saying that.) Obama's "socialism" is to pay for a tax credit for the middle class by raising taxes on the wealthy, which would actually pay for far more than just the tax cut. For McCain that's "redistribution of wealth." Tell you what: when Obama proposes gutting the carcasses of the rich for food, taking their land, and giving their possessions to the poor, we can talk.
Hell, at least Michelle Bachman had the guts (briefly) to just say that Obama is anti-American.
When you've got nothing left, you finally get back to basics. Republicans have tried everything to slow the Obama/Democratic juggernaut this year. And nothing - discussions of tax policy, health care, national security (which has worked so very often), and more - has stuck. So what's left? Time to get old school on some motherfuckers. Time to bring out the arguments that Republicans (and the right wing in general) have used again and again to try to rip this fucking election out of its seemingly inevitable ending. And that means it's time to unleash the ancient demons to divide and conquer or, at the very least, just divide. For instance:
Blackfacing Powell:
We finally know that, now that he's endorsed Barack Obama, Colin Powell is just another nigger to the right wing. Oh, fuck, conservatives couldn't get enough of Powell for so long, loving that he had all those medals and that woolly hair and was black (but not so black as to make others uncomfortable), and that they could even let him in the front door of the White House because they could trot him out to make any despicable cause seem honorable and just. Yeah, yeah, yeah, Powell's finally learning that, at the end of the day, how easy it is to get that coal black smudged on his face so that he's only a brother who, of course, would support a brother because he's a brother. By supporting Obama, he's demonstrating that deep inside his nigger heart was another coon waiting for a chance to bite his generous massa's hand.
It's fuckin' hilarious, innit? To hear how quickly the right has rendered Powell's endorsement as race-based, as the porcine shitbucket that undulates like a human, Rush Limbaugh, couldn't even wait until his show today to attack Powell for that very reason, as Nazi-lovin' Pat Buchanan seconded. And they simply act as if "Well, isn't it obvious?" that he'd do it because of their shared negritude. Powell's learning that no matter how much he's done the bidding of the right, honor and respect is cheap among motherfuckers because, if they'd fuck their mothers, then they would surely fuck you.
So now it's fine to say that the newspapers that endorsed John McCain, and Richard Petty and retired generals and others, only did because McCain's white. Let's have that goddamn discussion.
Why Not Bolsheviks?:
John McCain, in his typically pussy style, has started implying, without directly saying, that Barack Obama's tax policies are "socialism." Look at this little bitch way he's doing it: "You see, he believes in redistributing wealth, not in policies that help us all make more of it. Joe, in his plainspoken way, said this sounded a lot like socialism. And a lot of Americans are thinking along those same lines."
You see that? John McCain's not saying it's socialism, but Joe the fuckin' plumber is sayin' it. And Joe? That cocksucker is talkin' for all Americans now - he's our fuckin' blue collar spokesdude. McCain went on in his punk ass radio address, "In Europe, the Socialist leaders who so admire my opponent are upfront about their objectives." Hey, he's just reporting.
In Fayetteville, North Carolina, which may or may not be "real America" or "real North Carolina," because it's got colleges and it's hard to keep track of what's real in this country anymore, a woman at a diner started yelling, "Socialist, socialist, socialist" at Barack Obama. But because Obama's not a little bitch, he went over to the woman, who refused to engage with him because, ultimately, she's a coward and an idiot who wouldn't know real and actual socialism if it bit her on the ass and yelled, "I'm Socialism." And, truly, do we not know what she really wanted to shout?
Why not just say that Obama is Bolshevik? That he's gonna bring Leninism to the United States? Why not say he's a wild-eyed bohemian bent on bombing shit? (Oh, wait, they're already saying that.) Obama's "socialism" is to pay for a tax credit for the middle class by raising taxes on the wealthy, which would actually pay for far more than just the tax cut. For McCain that's "redistribution of wealth." Tell you what: when Obama proposes gutting the carcasses of the rich for food, taking their land, and giving their possessions to the poor, we can talk.
Hell, at least Michelle Bachman had the guts (briefly) to just say that Obama is anti-American.
Saturday, October 18, 2008
Farewell to Cursor:
Way before Huffington Post and long, long before the Daily Beast, Cursor.org was a lefty daily news aggregator that was blissfully straightforward. There was always something to discover there, and its editors were conscientious about linking to the best in progressive journalism. It was one of the sources of inspiration for the Rude Pundit, and that is why it was one of the first links ever put on this blog.
And, goddamnit, it lost its funding and is gone. After over seven years, it shuttered up a week ago. The Rude Pundit will pour a forty on the curb for its loss.
Way before Huffington Post and long, long before the Daily Beast, Cursor.org was a lefty daily news aggregator that was blissfully straightforward. There was always something to discover there, and its editors were conscientious about linking to the best in progressive journalism. It was one of the sources of inspiration for the Rude Pundit, and that is why it was one of the first links ever put on this blog.
And, goddamnit, it lost its funding and is gone. After over seven years, it shuttered up a week ago. The Rude Pundit will pour a forty on the curb for its loss.
Friday, October 17, 2008
Photos That Make the Rude Pundit Think About Chilling the Perrier-Jouet and Breaking Out the Beluga:
That's President George W. Bush's head propped up on a giant black stone. It seems a bit barbaric, but, to be fair, so have the last eight years. We probably could have waited until January at this point, but the McCain campaign needed a game changer and a definite way to distance itself from this administration.
Bush's head was displayed at the Chamber of Commerce in DC today, where it tried to reassure the nation about the vortex of the economy. Most people couldn't pay attention, though. They were appalled that a disembodied head was speaking in some horrible, garbled, barely human voice-like sound. "Why the fuck is it still talking?" a man in the audience was heard to scream. "It's just a head. Are we living in a nightmare?"
Others just stared, aghast, some vomiting up their danishes and crullers, as the head offered, "America is the best place in the world to start and run a business. America is the most attractive destination for investors around the globe. America is the home of the most talented and enterprising and creative workers in the world. We're a country where all people have the freedom to realize their potential and chase their dreams."
"There is no God, there is no God" a woman sobbed when Bush's head said, "This promise has defined our nation since its founding; this promise will guide us through the challenges we face today; and this promise will continue to define our nation for generations to come." No one could take the words seriously because, indeed, no one could be sure that it wasn't simply the devil speaking through the head. Most just wanted it to stop talking.
The head was taken from the stage to be frozen until it needed to make another appearance, but by that time, it wouldn't be able to speak, because, in all likelihood, all that would be left is the top half of it.
That's President George W. Bush's head propped up on a giant black stone. It seems a bit barbaric, but, to be fair, so have the last eight years. We probably could have waited until January at this point, but the McCain campaign needed a game changer and a definite way to distance itself from this administration.
Bush's head was displayed at the Chamber of Commerce in DC today, where it tried to reassure the nation about the vortex of the economy. Most people couldn't pay attention, though. They were appalled that a disembodied head was speaking in some horrible, garbled, barely human voice-like sound. "Why the fuck is it still talking?" a man in the audience was heard to scream. "It's just a head. Are we living in a nightmare?"
Others just stared, aghast, some vomiting up their danishes and crullers, as the head offered, "America is the best place in the world to start and run a business. America is the most attractive destination for investors around the globe. America is the home of the most talented and enterprising and creative workers in the world. We're a country where all people have the freedom to realize their potential and chase their dreams."
"There is no God, there is no God" a woman sobbed when Bush's head said, "This promise has defined our nation since its founding; this promise will guide us through the challenges we face today; and this promise will continue to define our nation for generations to come." No one could take the words seriously because, indeed, no one could be sure that it wasn't simply the devil speaking through the head. Most just wanted it to stop talking.
The head was taken from the stage to be frozen until it needed to make another appearance, but by that time, it wouldn't be able to speak, because, in all likelihood, all that would be left is the top half of it.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
The Third Presidential Debate: Barack Obama Is Not Campaigning to Be Your Friend:
Oh, John McCain, you brought all your sport equipment last night. You brought your baseball and your football. You put on your boxing gloves and your cup. You stretched, warmed up, and took the field, got into the ring, ran onto the court. You stood there with your bat, you took the ball out, you got ready for the kick off, you were waiting for the puck to be dropped. All uniformed up. Unfortunately, Barack Obama didn't show up at Hofstra to play any of your games. In fact, Obama said, more or less, that you should go shove your cleats up your ass and let the grown-ups deal with grown-up problems.
Last night's debate was something of a critical wounding of the Atwater/Rove school of political evisceration. Simply put, Obama's attitude to all the lawn darts McCain brought - the Ayers nonsense, the ACORN stupidity, the Obama-kills-babies lie, the "present" vote bullshit, and more - was to react and behave like it was all nonsensical, stupid, lying bullshit. He answered every accusation directly, but with a near-mournful attitude, as if to say, "Really, John? This is really what you want to talk about?" What Barack Obama did last night was to school John McCain in the rhetoric of crisis and McCain could only sputter and rage as he kept trying to get Obama to play with him. He may as well have been pleading, "C'mooon."
Obama's approach to the whole campaign has been incredibly straightforward: He is not running to be your buddy, Americans. He is running to be your president. He's not gonna say he likes your fuckin' pork rinds just to make you like him. (The times he veered briefly into that kind of pandering were just embarrassing, and he's avoided them since the primaries.) And he's not gonna stand for the kind of fucktardery that's taken down Democrats the last two elections, as well as during the Reagan/Bush years. Yeah, he addressed each thing that McCain mentioned, but he cut McCain's nuts off and held them up for McCain to see when he turned it back on the Republican: "I think the fact that this has become such an important part of your campaign, Senator McCain, says more about your campaign than it says about me."
At that moment, Barack Obama pretty much dragged Karl Rove out onto the stage, pulled down that fat fuck's pants, pointed at his tiny dick, and laughed. As for McCain, it was more or less the end of the election. He may as well have said, "Fuck it. My bitch is rich, so, honey, start the jet and let's go to Cabo."
McCain had one line he had practiced real good, and he waited for his chance to use it like a trapdoor spider hidden in the dirt hopes prey passes by. When the Arizona senator said his "Senator Obama, I am not President Bush" line, he looked like the kid at the spelling bee who knows he spelled his word correctly. But it didn't leave a mark on Obama. Time and again, when McCain tried to flailingly stab at Obama, the Democrat just calmly moved an inch or two one way or the other, leaving McCain stumbling, trying to get his footing back. That smile Obama kept on his face? It was the knowledge that McCain had charged at Obama and ended up falling off a cliff. The Rude Pundit's favorite grin was when Obama realized that all McCain had was Joe the fuckin' Plumber.
Look at just one thing here. When the whole issue of trade with Colombia came up (something that most people don't give a shit about), McCain, ever the motherfucker, lectured, "But maybe you ought to travel down there and visit them and maybe you could understand it a lot better." Without even pausing, Obama launched into a defense of workers' rights in that country, which hewed to his theme of giving power back to the disempowered. What the fuck was McCain gonna say to the fact that union organizers are being killed in Colombia? Oh, yeah, he tried to bring up Hugo Chavez, but, as ever, Obama smiled that smile of the leopard that knows he's faster than the old gazelle he's taking down.
And when McCain said that "women's health" is an extremist position in abortion policy, a fuckin' army of Sarah Palins wasn't gonna save him.
Don't believe anyone who says McCain won or that it was even close. He was an angry leprechaun screaming at the man who stole his pot of gold. And, at the end of the day, John McCain seemed less like a major party candidate and more like a pissed-off Dad telling his college-aged daughter who she can and can't date, and, for no rational reason he can explain, he certainly doesn't want her fucking around with the black guy. Unfortunately for him, she's all grown up now and can make her own decisions.
Oh, John McCain, you brought all your sport equipment last night. You brought your baseball and your football. You put on your boxing gloves and your cup. You stretched, warmed up, and took the field, got into the ring, ran onto the court. You stood there with your bat, you took the ball out, you got ready for the kick off, you were waiting for the puck to be dropped. All uniformed up. Unfortunately, Barack Obama didn't show up at Hofstra to play any of your games. In fact, Obama said, more or less, that you should go shove your cleats up your ass and let the grown-ups deal with grown-up problems.
Last night's debate was something of a critical wounding of the Atwater/Rove school of political evisceration. Simply put, Obama's attitude to all the lawn darts McCain brought - the Ayers nonsense, the ACORN stupidity, the Obama-kills-babies lie, the "present" vote bullshit, and more - was to react and behave like it was all nonsensical, stupid, lying bullshit. He answered every accusation directly, but with a near-mournful attitude, as if to say, "Really, John? This is really what you want to talk about?" What Barack Obama did last night was to school John McCain in the rhetoric of crisis and McCain could only sputter and rage as he kept trying to get Obama to play with him. He may as well have been pleading, "C'mooon."
Obama's approach to the whole campaign has been incredibly straightforward: He is not running to be your buddy, Americans. He is running to be your president. He's not gonna say he likes your fuckin' pork rinds just to make you like him. (The times he veered briefly into that kind of pandering were just embarrassing, and he's avoided them since the primaries.) And he's not gonna stand for the kind of fucktardery that's taken down Democrats the last two elections, as well as during the Reagan/Bush years. Yeah, he addressed each thing that McCain mentioned, but he cut McCain's nuts off and held them up for McCain to see when he turned it back on the Republican: "I think the fact that this has become such an important part of your campaign, Senator McCain, says more about your campaign than it says about me."
At that moment, Barack Obama pretty much dragged Karl Rove out onto the stage, pulled down that fat fuck's pants, pointed at his tiny dick, and laughed. As for McCain, it was more or less the end of the election. He may as well have said, "Fuck it. My bitch is rich, so, honey, start the jet and let's go to Cabo."
McCain had one line he had practiced real good, and he waited for his chance to use it like a trapdoor spider hidden in the dirt hopes prey passes by. When the Arizona senator said his "Senator Obama, I am not President Bush" line, he looked like the kid at the spelling bee who knows he spelled his word correctly. But it didn't leave a mark on Obama. Time and again, when McCain tried to flailingly stab at Obama, the Democrat just calmly moved an inch or two one way or the other, leaving McCain stumbling, trying to get his footing back. That smile Obama kept on his face? It was the knowledge that McCain had charged at Obama and ended up falling off a cliff. The Rude Pundit's favorite grin was when Obama realized that all McCain had was Joe the fuckin' Plumber.
Look at just one thing here. When the whole issue of trade with Colombia came up (something that most people don't give a shit about), McCain, ever the motherfucker, lectured, "But maybe you ought to travel down there and visit them and maybe you could understand it a lot better." Without even pausing, Obama launched into a defense of workers' rights in that country, which hewed to his theme of giving power back to the disempowered. What the fuck was McCain gonna say to the fact that union organizers are being killed in Colombia? Oh, yeah, he tried to bring up Hugo Chavez, but, as ever, Obama smiled that smile of the leopard that knows he's faster than the old gazelle he's taking down.
And when McCain said that "women's health" is an extremist position in abortion policy, a fuckin' army of Sarah Palins wasn't gonna save him.
Don't believe anyone who says McCain won or that it was even close. He was an angry leprechaun screaming at the man who stole his pot of gold. And, at the end of the day, John McCain seemed less like a major party candidate and more like a pissed-off Dad telling his college-aged daughter who she can and can't date, and, for no rational reason he can explain, he certainly doesn't want her fucking around with the black guy. Unfortunately for him, she's all grown up now and can make her own decisions.
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
Joe the Plumber?:
Wait, wait, wait - that sounds familiar. (Link way NSFW).
That's right: Neighborhood Watch 30, a fine amateur porn video, with the following description: "Joe the plumber is an expert when it comes to cleaning pipes. By coincidence, Kaylynne has several pipes in serious need of a reaming! And as we all know, a hard plumber is good to find."
Joe the plumber is doing just fine.
Wait, wait, wait - that sounds familiar. (Link way NSFW).
That's right: Neighborhood Watch 30, a fine amateur porn video, with the following description: "Joe the plumber is an expert when it comes to cleaning pipes. By coincidence, Kaylynne has several pipes in serious need of a reaming! And as we all know, a hard plumber is good to find."
Joe the plumber is doing just fine.
What Obama Should Say (Rude Version), Part 3:
If, at tonight's debate at Hofstra, John McCain mans up and actually attacks Obama on Bill Ayers, and the Democratic candidate doesn't say, "Goddamn, Johnny Maverick, you don't know what everyone else knows. It's over, motherfucker. Whether you wanna admit it or not, it's over. Put this cocksucker in the history books and scribble down, 'Landslide' next to it, 'cause, unless you find me in bed with a dead white boy, it's finished. Now, you need to decide how you wanna walk to the guillotine. You can go up to that platform, put your head down nice, and accept your fate, go out with a little honor. Or you can be a punk ass bitch and try to run away or cry or punch the guards or piss yourself. But either way, man, your fuckin' stringy-haired head is comin' off.
"You know why you're done? Because everyone's fucking tired of the Vietnam War. Not only that, but the Vietnam War doesn't fucking matter anymore to most of the people in the country. It's passed its political expiration date, motherfucker, and that means your story doesn't matter. And Ayers doesn't matter. None of the same fuckin' arguments hold water. We got our own goddamned war and our own goddamned ripped-up and shattered vets filling the VA hospitals. It means you're not as fuckin' special as you once were, Maverick Man. So shove your bullshit about Ayers up your ass. Forty years ago might not seem like that long to you, but to most people, it's a fuckin' lifetime.
"You lost, man, you lost because all the shit you been shoveling into a giant pile has finally tipped over and covered you in turds. I'll tell you what I'm gonna do. Right here, right now, I'm take out this skull. You see it? You know whose skull it is? It's Ronald Reagan's. And now I'm gonna take out my dick and fuck his skull, right in his eyehole where his lying-ass twinkling eyeballs used to be. Watch me fuck the Gipper's skull, man, watch me turn it into my bony bitch. Damn, that was good fuckin'. And then, once I'm president, I'm gonna get Milton Friedman's skull and fuck the shit out of that. And I'm gonna get William Rehnquist's skull and fuck it. And then I'm gonna get William F. Buckley's skull, even if it's still got meat on it, and I'm gonna fuck it in the mouth. I'm gonna skull fuck all those people who turned this country into a bullshit version of what it was. Shit, I'm gonna fuck Dick Cheney's skull while he's still using it, maybe get Joe Biden to double team it with me, fuckin' his skull until his poisoned fuckin' heart explodes.
"And as for you, Johnny Maverick? No, I won't skull fuck you. But, shit, you're not calling out motherfuckers who say they wanna kill me? What kind of pussy are you? You know we gotta work together. But you're gonna spend a little time suckin' dicks, mine and Biden's, and you can call 'em 'my friends,' 'cause you're gonna know 'em well. See, with 60 Democratic senators, you and Lieberman can form your own party of smug fuckers who have outlived their usefulness.
"Oh, and I'll be sending some badass motherfuckers from my Justice Department to Alaska to fuckin' anal probe and prosecute the fuck out of Little Miss Sarah and her trailer trash husband," then the debate will be worthless.
If, at tonight's debate at Hofstra, John McCain mans up and actually attacks Obama on Bill Ayers, and the Democratic candidate doesn't say, "Goddamn, Johnny Maverick, you don't know what everyone else knows. It's over, motherfucker. Whether you wanna admit it or not, it's over. Put this cocksucker in the history books and scribble down, 'Landslide' next to it, 'cause, unless you find me in bed with a dead white boy, it's finished. Now, you need to decide how you wanna walk to the guillotine. You can go up to that platform, put your head down nice, and accept your fate, go out with a little honor. Or you can be a punk ass bitch and try to run away or cry or punch the guards or piss yourself. But either way, man, your fuckin' stringy-haired head is comin' off.
"You know why you're done? Because everyone's fucking tired of the Vietnam War. Not only that, but the Vietnam War doesn't fucking matter anymore to most of the people in the country. It's passed its political expiration date, motherfucker, and that means your story doesn't matter. And Ayers doesn't matter. None of the same fuckin' arguments hold water. We got our own goddamned war and our own goddamned ripped-up and shattered vets filling the VA hospitals. It means you're not as fuckin' special as you once were, Maverick Man. So shove your bullshit about Ayers up your ass. Forty years ago might not seem like that long to you, but to most people, it's a fuckin' lifetime.
"You lost, man, you lost because all the shit you been shoveling into a giant pile has finally tipped over and covered you in turds. I'll tell you what I'm gonna do. Right here, right now, I'm take out this skull. You see it? You know whose skull it is? It's Ronald Reagan's. And now I'm gonna take out my dick and fuck his skull, right in his eyehole where his lying-ass twinkling eyeballs used to be. Watch me fuck the Gipper's skull, man, watch me turn it into my bony bitch. Damn, that was good fuckin'. And then, once I'm president, I'm gonna get Milton Friedman's skull and fuck the shit out of that. And I'm gonna get William Rehnquist's skull and fuck it. And then I'm gonna get William F. Buckley's skull, even if it's still got meat on it, and I'm gonna fuck it in the mouth. I'm gonna skull fuck all those people who turned this country into a bullshit version of what it was. Shit, I'm gonna fuck Dick Cheney's skull while he's still using it, maybe get Joe Biden to double team it with me, fuckin' his skull until his poisoned fuckin' heart explodes.
"And as for you, Johnny Maverick? No, I won't skull fuck you. But, shit, you're not calling out motherfuckers who say they wanna kill me? What kind of pussy are you? You know we gotta work together. But you're gonna spend a little time suckin' dicks, mine and Biden's, and you can call 'em 'my friends,' 'cause you're gonna know 'em well. See, with 60 Democratic senators, you and Lieberman can form your own party of smug fuckers who have outlived their usefulness.
"Oh, and I'll be sending some badass motherfuckers from my Justice Department to Alaska to fuckin' anal probe and prosecute the fuck out of Little Miss Sarah and her trailer trash husband," then the debate will be worthless.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
It's All Been a Lie: The Source of Republican Rage:
God, we've all had those days. When you wake up in the morning and look across the bed to see the guy you've been fucking for the last however long - months, years, maybe even a couple of decades. And you finally realize what a complete fucking loser he is. Yeah, yeah, it's been fun. All those insane nights out, trips overseas, the time you had a threesome with that British dude, deep conversations over glasses of wine where, you now realize, he fell asleep just a little bit before you got to your point. But now, now, you're staring at him, thinking, "That fucker can't hold a job, he's always getting into fights in bars here and abroad, doesn't clean up shit around the apartment, and expects me to give him money whenever he wants new clothes and shit."
It's a stunning kind of moment, when you feel helpless and you think, "Fuck, I've based a chunk of my life around this asshole. What am I gonna do?" Now, you can blame yourself - your life, your decisions. But that's just way too goddamn hard: you gotta look yourself in the mirror every day. You blame him. But that requires action: you gotta toss his ass out and learn to live life on your own. No, the easiest thing is to push down that ball of unease and lash out at others: the motherfucking bosses that fired him, the dicks at the bars who bumped him, anyone, fuck, Christ, anyone so that you don't have to face the horrible truth: what you have believed is a lie and you have lived that lie for years now.
Sure, there's a great deal of racist hatred going on at rallies for John McCain and Sarah Palin, what with all the monkeys with Obama clothes and calls that Obama ought to be killed. But, as with much hatred directed at the left, most of it is simply the barbaric half-articulate bleats of misdirected frustration cried out by idiots in denial about how fucked up their country and their lives have been for the better part of the last three decades. And their own complicity in their own undoing.
Oh, children, you may not remember, but there was a time when the thought was that government ought to at least pretend to represent those who didn't have the means to represent themselves. But part of the Reagan "revolution" (if by "revolution," you mean, "extreme pro-capitalist economic policies that fucked over most of the nation and made almost everyone not rich less free") was the codification of the idea that what's good for the rich is what's good for the country. Post-Great Depression, the government at least gave lip service to and often acted to directly help the poor. From Reagan on, that was seen as bullshit. And the fuckin' hilarious part was that because of Reagan's decision to bring religion and cultural issues into the mix, he got a lot of dirt poor assholes to believe him. Shit, that was some fine snow job.
But what's happened in the last couple of years, starting with Hurricane Katrina and climaxing (one hopes) with the economic crisis of the last month, all those idiots who really think that the Dow Jones Industrial Average reflects something about their lives other than how deeply they're fucked have had to face the nightmare that the ideology they had staked their lives and their children's lives on was a fairy tale. And that God wasn't gonna do jack shit to make it all better.
When some tool yells, "Terrorist" or some such shit while McCain is yammering on or when Sarah Palin is saying some stupid ass thing she doesn't understand, it's because that person can't face the truth. It's easier to make Barack Obama and vaguely defined "liberals" and "Democrats" into the villains than the people who keep telling them, "No, no, all evidence to the contrary, that dude in your bed's a great guy and everyone else is just trying to dick you over."
God, we've all had those days. When you wake up in the morning and look across the bed to see the guy you've been fucking for the last however long - months, years, maybe even a couple of decades. And you finally realize what a complete fucking loser he is. Yeah, yeah, it's been fun. All those insane nights out, trips overseas, the time you had a threesome with that British dude, deep conversations over glasses of wine where, you now realize, he fell asleep just a little bit before you got to your point. But now, now, you're staring at him, thinking, "That fucker can't hold a job, he's always getting into fights in bars here and abroad, doesn't clean up shit around the apartment, and expects me to give him money whenever he wants new clothes and shit."
It's a stunning kind of moment, when you feel helpless and you think, "Fuck, I've based a chunk of my life around this asshole. What am I gonna do?" Now, you can blame yourself - your life, your decisions. But that's just way too goddamn hard: you gotta look yourself in the mirror every day. You blame him. But that requires action: you gotta toss his ass out and learn to live life on your own. No, the easiest thing is to push down that ball of unease and lash out at others: the motherfucking bosses that fired him, the dicks at the bars who bumped him, anyone, fuck, Christ, anyone so that you don't have to face the horrible truth: what you have believed is a lie and you have lived that lie for years now.
Sure, there's a great deal of racist hatred going on at rallies for John McCain and Sarah Palin, what with all the monkeys with Obama clothes and calls that Obama ought to be killed. But, as with much hatred directed at the left, most of it is simply the barbaric half-articulate bleats of misdirected frustration cried out by idiots in denial about how fucked up their country and their lives have been for the better part of the last three decades. And their own complicity in their own undoing.
Oh, children, you may not remember, but there was a time when the thought was that government ought to at least pretend to represent those who didn't have the means to represent themselves. But part of the Reagan "revolution" (if by "revolution," you mean, "extreme pro-capitalist economic policies that fucked over most of the nation and made almost everyone not rich less free") was the codification of the idea that what's good for the rich is what's good for the country. Post-Great Depression, the government at least gave lip service to and often acted to directly help the poor. From Reagan on, that was seen as bullshit. And the fuckin' hilarious part was that because of Reagan's decision to bring religion and cultural issues into the mix, he got a lot of dirt poor assholes to believe him. Shit, that was some fine snow job.
But what's happened in the last couple of years, starting with Hurricane Katrina and climaxing (one hopes) with the economic crisis of the last month, all those idiots who really think that the Dow Jones Industrial Average reflects something about their lives other than how deeply they're fucked have had to face the nightmare that the ideology they had staked their lives and their children's lives on was a fairy tale. And that God wasn't gonna do jack shit to make it all better.
When some tool yells, "Terrorist" or some such shit while McCain is yammering on or when Sarah Palin is saying some stupid ass thing she doesn't understand, it's because that person can't face the truth. It's easier to make Barack Obama and vaguely defined "liberals" and "Democrats" into the villains than the people who keep telling them, "No, no, all evidence to the contrary, that dude in your bed's a great guy and everyone else is just trying to dick you over."
Monday, October 13, 2008
Columbus Day: Which Candidate Gives a Damn About Indians?:
The only time the Rude Pundit ever celebrated Columbus Day, other than making Pinta macaroni art, was by accident. He was sitting at an outdoor cafe' in the North Beach section of San Francisco, drinking wine with friends on a gorgeous October mid-day in 1992, when, well into the third bottle, we noticed that the streets were suddenly lined with people. We had been about to get the check, but instead, we ordered another bottle of red, slapped our foreheads, thinking, "Oh, fuck, it's Columbus Day and we're in Little Italy," and leaned back to watch the parade.
It was the 500th anniversary of Columbus's blind trust that God existed just to make sure that he would get rich and dark people would be slaves. And down at Fisherman's Wharf, a different event was going on, the Native American protest of Columbus and his not-so-merry band of drunk, white, greedy sodomizers sailing the ocean blue. We headed in that direction, hearing louder and louder chants as we got closer. Finally, down at the waterfront, we were blocked from going further, but we saw that the riot police had headed in to stop the protesters from stopping the parade and its organizers' effort to re-enact Columbus's landing. By that point, the white people had met the indigenous people (and their sympathizers, who way outnumbered anyone who descended from anyone actually native) and, as usual, things were not going to go well.
So, on this election year Columbus Day, a mere 516 years since Chris C. fucked up a perfectly nice beach in the Dominican Republic, let's take just a sec to see how the election is playing in Indian country.
A quick check of the campaign websites pretty much tells the entire story: Obama's got an entire section of his dedicated to Indian issues. He's hired Wizi Garriott as his campaign's First Americans vote director, who has been working with young Native leaders on outreach to engage the tribal communities in the election. And Obama's been endorsed by the councils and leaders of many tribes.
McCain? Well, he's got a page that says how long he's been on relevant committees. Which is cool since there's 20 tribes in Arizona, but some are dubious about McCain's record of accomplishment, other than holding hearings now and then. In an ironic twist, considering his love of the dice, McCain has been quite the advocate for tighter regulation on Indian casinos, which doesn't sit well with many a native. Shit, casinos have been a nice, slow Indian vengeance on white people for a couple of decades now (and a place for income for intensely poverty-stricken ares). They don't want him to fuck with that. It's a naked play for evangelical votes and an obvious attempt to distance himself from Ralph Reed and Jack Abramoff.
Bottom line: even though Indians traditionally vote Democratic, the party is not taking those votes for granted. Republicans? Like so many others throughout history, they've pretty much just written the tribes off.
The only time the Rude Pundit ever celebrated Columbus Day, other than making Pinta macaroni art, was by accident. He was sitting at an outdoor cafe' in the North Beach section of San Francisco, drinking wine with friends on a gorgeous October mid-day in 1992, when, well into the third bottle, we noticed that the streets were suddenly lined with people. We had been about to get the check, but instead, we ordered another bottle of red, slapped our foreheads, thinking, "Oh, fuck, it's Columbus Day and we're in Little Italy," and leaned back to watch the parade.
It was the 500th anniversary of Columbus's blind trust that God existed just to make sure that he would get rich and dark people would be slaves. And down at Fisherman's Wharf, a different event was going on, the Native American protest of Columbus and his not-so-merry band of drunk, white, greedy sodomizers sailing the ocean blue. We headed in that direction, hearing louder and louder chants as we got closer. Finally, down at the waterfront, we were blocked from going further, but we saw that the riot police had headed in to stop the protesters from stopping the parade and its organizers' effort to re-enact Columbus's landing. By that point, the white people had met the indigenous people (and their sympathizers, who way outnumbered anyone who descended from anyone actually native) and, as usual, things were not going to go well.
So, on this election year Columbus Day, a mere 516 years since Chris C. fucked up a perfectly nice beach in the Dominican Republic, let's take just a sec to see how the election is playing in Indian country.
A quick check of the campaign websites pretty much tells the entire story: Obama's got an entire section of his dedicated to Indian issues. He's hired Wizi Garriott as his campaign's First Americans vote director, who has been working with young Native leaders on outreach to engage the tribal communities in the election. And Obama's been endorsed by the councils and leaders of many tribes.
McCain? Well, he's got a page that says how long he's been on relevant committees. Which is cool since there's 20 tribes in Arizona, but some are dubious about McCain's record of accomplishment, other than holding hearings now and then. In an ironic twist, considering his love of the dice, McCain has been quite the advocate for tighter regulation on Indian casinos, which doesn't sit well with many a native. Shit, casinos have been a nice, slow Indian vengeance on white people for a couple of decades now (and a place for income for intensely poverty-stricken ares). They don't want him to fuck with that. It's a naked play for evangelical votes and an obvious attempt to distance himself from Ralph Reed and Jack Abramoff.
Bottom line: even though Indians traditionally vote Democratic, the party is not taking those votes for granted. Republicans? Like so many others throughout history, they've pretty much just written the tribes off.
Saturday, October 11, 2008
Weekend Multimedia Fun:
From Shoot the Messenger, an ad about John McCain and Sarah Palin's favorite new energy source, clean coal:
From Shoot the Messenger, an ad about John McCain and Sarah Palin's favorite new energy source, clean coal:
Friday, October 10, 2008
In Defense of Bill Ayers, Part 2: Repentance Is Not an Option:
Perhaps a man who killed children by bombing civilian villages in the Vietnam War ought not call others "terrorists." Just sayin'.
Several people have written in to the Rude Pundit to praise Bill Ayers, the University of Illinois, Chicago professor of education who was once a member of the radical 60s and 70s group the Weather Underground and whose vague association with Barack Obama has become the last all-in of the McCain campaign. McCain is now talking openly about the Ayers/Obama connection and has put out an ad that questions the judgment of Obama because of Ayers.
Probably one should question Robert McNeil and Jim Lehrer, who featured Ayers as an expert on education in Chicago on their PBS news show in 1995 without mentioning the Weathermen. So when Barack Obama was first meeting him, it was as that expert on education. Far from being a "washed-up terrorist," as McCain called him, Ayers is actually a beloved and important teacher, one who has probably done more positive things for more people on balance than the aforementioned child bomber and his sportscaster running mate.
But don't take it from the Rude Pundit. Here's what people who know Bill Ayers said:
Sharon H. writes, "I pal around with terrorists. I consider Bill Ayers a friend. This thing on Bill has been blown way, way out of proportion. It is not relevant to America today...I first met Bill Ayers when I was completing a degree in education in Chicago. I was not a student at UIC but really wanted to sit in on Bill's classes. I had read practically everything he had written and found that our philosophy of education in the lives of children were pretty much the same.
"So I sat in on his class. After class I told Bill that I wanted to continue to sit in and he invited me to sit in on both of his classes that semester. His lectures were brilliant and thought-provoking. Moreover, he not only encouraged everyone to engage in the dialogue, he found value in what you, as his student had to say...
"Later, in 2005 when I managed a summer recruitment program for pre-service teachers at Chicago Public Schools, I called upon Bill to talk to 200 soon-to-be teachers. He did so willingly and asked for nothing in return. He spoke for over ninety minutes and answered questions. too. The students were mesmerized by his intelligence, depth of knowledge and passion for education and his wit. Yes, they were very impressed with Bill Ayers and indicated so on their program exit surveys. Nowadays, our paths cross at the various educational and volunteer functions around the city. As far as arrogance, I've never seen it. When we see each other around town, I'm always greeted by him with a hug and a kiss. Then he talks lovingly amount his grandchild and his growing older, and then asks about mine."
John K. says, "I'm a former student of Bill Ayers. In 2003, I was returning to teaching after 25 years in advertising and had to take a couple courses to bring my certificate up to date. One of the courses I took at UIC was called 'Improving Learning Environments,' taught by Ayers.
"I remember his comments in class as being a little more political than your friend does, but that could be explained by the fact that I took this class 5 years ago, rather than the 10 or so of your friend. Bush had started to fuck things up, we invaded Iraq that semester, and – perhaps – I was a tad more attuned to Ayers' history...
"You see, I had met Ayers back in the day. He and a bunch of SDS-ers had come to Northern Illinois University in the late '60s to talk about a recent trip to Cuba. While I don't remember too much of the talk, I do remember that – even though I was in the SDS back then, too – they all struck me as being just a little bit too far gone on the 'true-believer' spectrum for my comfort...
"[Ayers] is an excellent teacher, dedicated to what he does, and comes across as
spectacularly sincere (there's that true believer stuff again) about making schools more responsive to the needs of students, especially those in impoverished, urban areas. He didn't talk too much about the 'old days,' but he did apply the same world view that led him to the Weathermen to events going on that semester."
As far as that past, here's Ayers himself in an August 1996 interview on the PBS Newshour: "I'm sure there are people who think that the opposition to the war was wrong and would like to re-write that history, but the opposition to the war was right, and the opposition came from all quarters, and those who opposed it should be proud of that and should say they're proud of that. To apologize for that opposition would be, I think, a perversion. To apologize for militantly opposing racism, which I think is needed now more than ever, to me is a perversion. On a personal level, are there things that I did wrong like every human being? There are thousands of things that you might do differently, you might re-think after the fact. But in terms of throwing oneself against the war in the 1960's and 70's, that was the right thing to do."
Finally, Ayers' wife, Bernadine Dohrn, herself a professor, told a reporter from the Toronto Star in October 2003 when a film on the Weathermen was opening, "I think the substance of what we stood for was absolutely right...The tactics, and some of our rhetoric, those are different questions."
For any reasonable member of the media who took, say, five minutes to look at who Bill Ayers is, Obama's association with him would not only make sense, but, considering how active the two of them were in the same issues in Chicago, unavoidable.
Ayers' story is a powerful one - from activist revolting against the system to activist learning to use the system so he can cause change. What pisses off conservatives is that he's unrepentant. He hasn't begged forgiveness from the public. He hasn't admitted regret for his actions. He has simply decided that bombs weren't the way to create revolution. That it can happen by teaching teachers to show their students, especially kids in poverty, how to be active, engaged citizens, which in these days of sheep-like complacency is revolutionary indeed. And terrifying to those currently holding power.
Correction: Dohrn's first name is Bernadine, not Bernadette, as first posted.
Perhaps a man who killed children by bombing civilian villages in the Vietnam War ought not call others "terrorists." Just sayin'.
Several people have written in to the Rude Pundit to praise Bill Ayers, the University of Illinois, Chicago professor of education who was once a member of the radical 60s and 70s group the Weather Underground and whose vague association with Barack Obama has become the last all-in of the McCain campaign. McCain is now talking openly about the Ayers/Obama connection and has put out an ad that questions the judgment of Obama because of Ayers.
Probably one should question Robert McNeil and Jim Lehrer, who featured Ayers as an expert on education in Chicago on their PBS news show in 1995 without mentioning the Weathermen. So when Barack Obama was first meeting him, it was as that expert on education. Far from being a "washed-up terrorist," as McCain called him, Ayers is actually a beloved and important teacher, one who has probably done more positive things for more people on balance than the aforementioned child bomber and his sportscaster running mate.
But don't take it from the Rude Pundit. Here's what people who know Bill Ayers said:
Sharon H. writes, "I pal around with terrorists. I consider Bill Ayers a friend. This thing on Bill has been blown way, way out of proportion. It is not relevant to America today...I first met Bill Ayers when I was completing a degree in education in Chicago. I was not a student at UIC but really wanted to sit in on Bill's classes. I had read practically everything he had written and found that our philosophy of education in the lives of children were pretty much the same.
"So I sat in on his class. After class I told Bill that I wanted to continue to sit in and he invited me to sit in on both of his classes that semester. His lectures were brilliant and thought-provoking. Moreover, he not only encouraged everyone to engage in the dialogue, he found value in what you, as his student had to say...
"Later, in 2005 when I managed a summer recruitment program for pre-service teachers at Chicago Public Schools, I called upon Bill to talk to 200 soon-to-be teachers. He did so willingly and asked for nothing in return. He spoke for over ninety minutes and answered questions. too. The students were mesmerized by his intelligence, depth of knowledge and passion for education and his wit. Yes, they were very impressed with Bill Ayers and indicated so on their program exit surveys. Nowadays, our paths cross at the various educational and volunteer functions around the city. As far as arrogance, I've never seen it. When we see each other around town, I'm always greeted by him with a hug and a kiss. Then he talks lovingly amount his grandchild and his growing older, and then asks about mine."
John K. says, "I'm a former student of Bill Ayers. In 2003, I was returning to teaching after 25 years in advertising and had to take a couple courses to bring my certificate up to date. One of the courses I took at UIC was called 'Improving Learning Environments,' taught by Ayers.
"I remember his comments in class as being a little more political than your friend does, but that could be explained by the fact that I took this class 5 years ago, rather than the 10 or so of your friend. Bush had started to fuck things up, we invaded Iraq that semester, and – perhaps – I was a tad more attuned to Ayers' history...
"You see, I had met Ayers back in the day. He and a bunch of SDS-ers had come to Northern Illinois University in the late '60s to talk about a recent trip to Cuba. While I don't remember too much of the talk, I do remember that – even though I was in the SDS back then, too – they all struck me as being just a little bit too far gone on the 'true-believer' spectrum for my comfort...
"[Ayers] is an excellent teacher, dedicated to what he does, and comes across as
spectacularly sincere (there's that true believer stuff again) about making schools more responsive to the needs of students, especially those in impoverished, urban areas. He didn't talk too much about the 'old days,' but he did apply the same world view that led him to the Weathermen to events going on that semester."
As far as that past, here's Ayers himself in an August 1996 interview on the PBS Newshour: "I'm sure there are people who think that the opposition to the war was wrong and would like to re-write that history, but the opposition to the war was right, and the opposition came from all quarters, and those who opposed it should be proud of that and should say they're proud of that. To apologize for that opposition would be, I think, a perversion. To apologize for militantly opposing racism, which I think is needed now more than ever, to me is a perversion. On a personal level, are there things that I did wrong like every human being? There are thousands of things that you might do differently, you might re-think after the fact. But in terms of throwing oneself against the war in the 1960's and 70's, that was the right thing to do."
Finally, Ayers' wife, Bernadine Dohrn, herself a professor, told a reporter from the Toronto Star in October 2003 when a film on the Weathermen was opening, "I think the substance of what we stood for was absolutely right...The tactics, and some of our rhetoric, those are different questions."
For any reasonable member of the media who took, say, five minutes to look at who Bill Ayers is, Obama's association with him would not only make sense, but, considering how active the two of them were in the same issues in Chicago, unavoidable.
Ayers' story is a powerful one - from activist revolting against the system to activist learning to use the system so he can cause change. What pisses off conservatives is that he's unrepentant. He hasn't begged forgiveness from the public. He hasn't admitted regret for his actions. He has simply decided that bombs weren't the way to create revolution. That it can happen by teaching teachers to show their students, especially kids in poverty, how to be active, engaged citizens, which in these days of sheep-like complacency is revolutionary indeed. And terrifying to those currently holding power.
Correction: Dohrn's first name is Bernadine, not Bernadette, as first posted.
Thursday, October 09, 2008
In Defense of Bill Ayers: He's a Professor:
The right-wing and the McCain campaign continue to push the Barack Obama-Bill Ayers association because, truly, it is the last desperate, craven move they can make to slow the Obama train before it smashes them like a herd of deer on the tracks at the wrong time. It's an idiotic move because, unlike every other specious attempt to take down a Democrat with lies and insinuation, it doesn't involve an actual action by the candidate. Think about it: Willie Horton? Well, Michael Dukakis did support the furlough program as governor. Bill Clinton? Well, he did get blown by that woman. Max Cleland? Well, he did want union protection for Homeland Security employees. It was all spin and bullshit, yes, but it was at least based on things the actual candidates actually did.
Not so with Ayers. As Keith Olbermann and Obama flack Robert Gibbs have shown, once you start to go down the road of "people what you know," that way lies madness.
But these bastards are not letting it go. The McCain campaign released an online ad that flatly asserts that Obama is unfit to be president because he knows William Ayers, even quoting such unbiased sources as the National Review to impugn Obama's work on a charitable organization. Dick "Hooker Toe Sucker" Morris and Eileen McGann say that "Barack Obama should have run screaming at the sight of William Ayers" in the mid-1990s. Morris and McGann also say that the only reason Ayers and his wife didn't go to jail for the bombings they were involved in as part of the Weather Underground was that the charges were thrown out for illegal FBI evidence gathering. They leave out the fact that Ayers turned himself in.
In fact, by the mid-1990s, when Obama encountered him, Ayers was a major figure in the field of education, a professor at the University of Illinois, Chicago, who was routinely praised by Chicago Mayor Richard Daley for his work on elementary and early childhood education. In other words, in the dark ages before the Google began working its stalker-like miracles, who the fuck cared who Ayers was? He was the dude who wrote books on empowering students in the classroom and on problems with the juvenile justice system.
The Rude Pundit has a friend who was a student in one of Ayers' classes during the time Barack Obama was working with Ayers, over a decade ago. So he called up the friend and asked about the crazy ass bomber. This is what the friend had to say:
"There was nothing radical about Ayers. He did not talk about radical political beliefs in the class. He was a reformer, not a revolutionary. He didn't say anything anti-American. In fact, he didn't mention the government or economics or anything that didn't have to do with research and education.
"He never brought up his past. He did not talk about his radical days. I'd say 95% of the students didn't know anything about him other than he was a great professor. Students were told by other students to take him. They raved about him. And he was a brilliant, smart guy. A captivating teacher. We were in awe of him, of his charisma, and we just sat there listening to him talk about his teaching experiences and research. He filled the room.
"He kept pushing our creativity. He didn't want us to do boring projects. And he encouraged dialogue in the classroom. He practiced what he preached. Even now, when I see him, he remembers me and the work I did in his class."
And lest you think that the Rude Pundit's friend is just ready to drop to his knees and give Ayers a hummer, he adds, "He had the biggest ego and he was a name dropper who thrived on attention. A very self-centered guy. While I think he's trying to stay out of things right now, I know he's loving all of this." Can you hold those two thoughts in your head at once: egomaniac and great teacher? Can you hold these two: former violent radical and important scholar/citizen?
Oh, yeah. Big bad radical bomber William Ayers just got elected to the faculty senate at UIC. No doubt when he votes on changes to the prerequisites for computer science courses, it'll be with an itchy trigger finger.
Anyone else out there a student now or a former student of Bill Ayers? Tell the Rude Pundit your story, good or bad. Send it to "rudepundit[at]yahoo[dot]com". Let's try to end this insanity.
The right-wing and the McCain campaign continue to push the Barack Obama-Bill Ayers association because, truly, it is the last desperate, craven move they can make to slow the Obama train before it smashes them like a herd of deer on the tracks at the wrong time. It's an idiotic move because, unlike every other specious attempt to take down a Democrat with lies and insinuation, it doesn't involve an actual action by the candidate. Think about it: Willie Horton? Well, Michael Dukakis did support the furlough program as governor. Bill Clinton? Well, he did get blown by that woman. Max Cleland? Well, he did want union protection for Homeland Security employees. It was all spin and bullshit, yes, but it was at least based on things the actual candidates actually did.
Not so with Ayers. As Keith Olbermann and Obama flack Robert Gibbs have shown, once you start to go down the road of "people what you know," that way lies madness.
But these bastards are not letting it go. The McCain campaign released an online ad that flatly asserts that Obama is unfit to be president because he knows William Ayers, even quoting such unbiased sources as the National Review to impugn Obama's work on a charitable organization. Dick "Hooker Toe Sucker" Morris and Eileen McGann say that "Barack Obama should have run screaming at the sight of William Ayers" in the mid-1990s. Morris and McGann also say that the only reason Ayers and his wife didn't go to jail for the bombings they were involved in as part of the Weather Underground was that the charges were thrown out for illegal FBI evidence gathering. They leave out the fact that Ayers turned himself in.
In fact, by the mid-1990s, when Obama encountered him, Ayers was a major figure in the field of education, a professor at the University of Illinois, Chicago, who was routinely praised by Chicago Mayor Richard Daley for his work on elementary and early childhood education. In other words, in the dark ages before the Google began working its stalker-like miracles, who the fuck cared who Ayers was? He was the dude who wrote books on empowering students in the classroom and on problems with the juvenile justice system.
The Rude Pundit has a friend who was a student in one of Ayers' classes during the time Barack Obama was working with Ayers, over a decade ago. So he called up the friend and asked about the crazy ass bomber. This is what the friend had to say:
"There was nothing radical about Ayers. He did not talk about radical political beliefs in the class. He was a reformer, not a revolutionary. He didn't say anything anti-American. In fact, he didn't mention the government or economics or anything that didn't have to do with research and education.
"He never brought up his past. He did not talk about his radical days. I'd say 95% of the students didn't know anything about him other than he was a great professor. Students were told by other students to take him. They raved about him. And he was a brilliant, smart guy. A captivating teacher. We were in awe of him, of his charisma, and we just sat there listening to him talk about his teaching experiences and research. He filled the room.
"He kept pushing our creativity. He didn't want us to do boring projects. And he encouraged dialogue in the classroom. He practiced what he preached. Even now, when I see him, he remembers me and the work I did in his class."
And lest you think that the Rude Pundit's friend is just ready to drop to his knees and give Ayers a hummer, he adds, "He had the biggest ego and he was a name dropper who thrived on attention. A very self-centered guy. While I think he's trying to stay out of things right now, I know he's loving all of this." Can you hold those two thoughts in your head at once: egomaniac and great teacher? Can you hold these two: former violent radical and important scholar/citizen?
Oh, yeah. Big bad radical bomber William Ayers just got elected to the faculty senate at UIC. No doubt when he votes on changes to the prerequisites for computer science courses, it'll be with an itchy trigger finger.
Anyone else out there a student now or a former student of Bill Ayers? Tell the Rude Pundit your story, good or bad. Send it to "rudepundit[at]yahoo[dot]com". Let's try to end this insanity.
Wednesday, October 08, 2008
The Nashville Debate: The Impotent Always Lose Out to the Virile:
Last night's debate was not unlike watching a grown man and his elderly friend on a vacation hire a couple of high-priced hookers in Vegas to come over to their suite at the Wynn. The old guy, call him "Sidney," keeps talking about how bad he wants to fuck some young 'tang; the younger guy, who, what the fuck, let's call "Barry," - hey, he's cool with whatever goes down. The women arrive, and, after a few drinks, a couple of dances, a little stripper action, Barry takes one of the whores back to his bedroom and shuts the door. Sidney, sitting there with this hot young piece of ass, keeps telling her what to do, to grab his crank, to go down on him some, but he can't get it up. He's popped Viagra, snorted coke, and the best he can get is a mushy half-mast prick that couldn't penetrate pudding.
He can hear Barry, obviously fucking away, his hooker's cries seeming almost real. And that just pisses Sidney off. He blames the girl, he blames the room, he blames the whiskey, getting angrier and angrier. He keeps trying to bang his pussy-for-hire, but that just makes him seem weaker and weaker. Finally, diminished, flaccid, and tired, Sidney gives up. "I am so very old now," he tells the hooker, who knows when it's time to move to comfort mode, checking her watch and hearing her friend still getting nailed, thinking about heading into the other room for a threesome.
So it was that Barack Obama demonstrated, again and again, that he can't be shaken. It was, after a while, kind of pathetic, as John McCain again and again threw shit at Obama, who was Zen-like in his ability to swat it all away like so many flies. One of the only honest things McCain said the entire evening was "Americans are angry, they're upset, and they're a little fearful." That being so, who do you think they want to tell them it's gonna be okay? The frantic, snapping, gnarled pseudo-dwarf or the soothing-voiced, elegant tall man? McCain was so bizarre and scary that if he had said, "Free beer for all," it would have seemed like a threat.
Obama walked through this debate. Like Biden last week, he knew he only had to hold the ball or whatever useful sports metaphor you wanna insert there. He didn't reveal anything new. He was there to offer, as he has been this whole time, "a steady hand on the tiller," as McCain said we need in America. But also a steady hand that's steering the ship in a different direction. His one blatant punch, accusing McCain of being an irrational hothead in foreign affairs, with "this is the guy who sang, 'Bomb, bomb, bomb Iran,' who called for the annihilation of North Korea. That I don't think is an example of 'speaking softly,'" landed hard, a gut punch from which McCain didn't recover the rest of the evening.
Some damn talking head on CNN or MSNBC (they blur after a while) said that by not bringing up all the Bill Ayers nonsense that Sarah "Witchcraft-Free Since 2005" Palin was pissing out of her mouth all weekend, McCain was in essence distancing himself from his running mate and couldn't be that vicious. Bullshit. The only reason McCain didn't bring up Ayers is because he didn't have an opening. And as much of a dick as McCain is, he at least had sense enough not to repeat Palin's "fuck you" to the questions. But McCain's rage and impotence on display made him seem like a grandpa trying to keep up with his grade school grandson while playing tennis on a Wii.
In the course of repeating talking points, which they both did, which made the debate pretty fucking boring for anyone who has paid attention, you could almost hear America roll its collective eyes every time McCain asserted his maverickiness in voting against his own party or with his repetition of the earmarks canard. It was over. McCain no longer had any charm. He got no laughs for his little digs or self-effacing remarks. And by the time he nearly went all Jack Nicholson on Obama, with his "that one" line (which was about who voted on an energy bill), the election was, for all intents and purposes, done.
At the end of the evening, McCain was a defeated man. He knew it as he got the fuck off the stage as soon as possible and as Obama stayed behind to talk to individuals in the audience. In military terms, that's called "ceding territory" or "retreat" or "surrender."
Last night's debate was not unlike watching a grown man and his elderly friend on a vacation hire a couple of high-priced hookers in Vegas to come over to their suite at the Wynn. The old guy, call him "Sidney," keeps talking about how bad he wants to fuck some young 'tang; the younger guy, who, what the fuck, let's call "Barry," - hey, he's cool with whatever goes down. The women arrive, and, after a few drinks, a couple of dances, a little stripper action, Barry takes one of the whores back to his bedroom and shuts the door. Sidney, sitting there with this hot young piece of ass, keeps telling her what to do, to grab his crank, to go down on him some, but he can't get it up. He's popped Viagra, snorted coke, and the best he can get is a mushy half-mast prick that couldn't penetrate pudding.
He can hear Barry, obviously fucking away, his hooker's cries seeming almost real. And that just pisses Sidney off. He blames the girl, he blames the room, he blames the whiskey, getting angrier and angrier. He keeps trying to bang his pussy-for-hire, but that just makes him seem weaker and weaker. Finally, diminished, flaccid, and tired, Sidney gives up. "I am so very old now," he tells the hooker, who knows when it's time to move to comfort mode, checking her watch and hearing her friend still getting nailed, thinking about heading into the other room for a threesome.
So it was that Barack Obama demonstrated, again and again, that he can't be shaken. It was, after a while, kind of pathetic, as John McCain again and again threw shit at Obama, who was Zen-like in his ability to swat it all away like so many flies. One of the only honest things McCain said the entire evening was "Americans are angry, they're upset, and they're a little fearful." That being so, who do you think they want to tell them it's gonna be okay? The frantic, snapping, gnarled pseudo-dwarf or the soothing-voiced, elegant tall man? McCain was so bizarre and scary that if he had said, "Free beer for all," it would have seemed like a threat.
Obama walked through this debate. Like Biden last week, he knew he only had to hold the ball or whatever useful sports metaphor you wanna insert there. He didn't reveal anything new. He was there to offer, as he has been this whole time, "a steady hand on the tiller," as McCain said we need in America. But also a steady hand that's steering the ship in a different direction. His one blatant punch, accusing McCain of being an irrational hothead in foreign affairs, with "this is the guy who sang, 'Bomb, bomb, bomb Iran,' who called for the annihilation of North Korea. That I don't think is an example of 'speaking softly,'" landed hard, a gut punch from which McCain didn't recover the rest of the evening.
Some damn talking head on CNN or MSNBC (they blur after a while) said that by not bringing up all the Bill Ayers nonsense that Sarah "Witchcraft-Free Since 2005" Palin was pissing out of her mouth all weekend, McCain was in essence distancing himself from his running mate and couldn't be that vicious. Bullshit. The only reason McCain didn't bring up Ayers is because he didn't have an opening. And as much of a dick as McCain is, he at least had sense enough not to repeat Palin's "fuck you" to the questions. But McCain's rage and impotence on display made him seem like a grandpa trying to keep up with his grade school grandson while playing tennis on a Wii.
In the course of repeating talking points, which they both did, which made the debate pretty fucking boring for anyone who has paid attention, you could almost hear America roll its collective eyes every time McCain asserted his maverickiness in voting against his own party or with his repetition of the earmarks canard. It was over. McCain no longer had any charm. He got no laughs for his little digs or self-effacing remarks. And by the time he nearly went all Jack Nicholson on Obama, with his "that one" line (which was about who voted on an energy bill), the election was, for all intents and purposes, done.
At the end of the evening, McCain was a defeated man. He knew it as he got the fuck off the stage as soon as possible and as Obama stayed behind to talk to individuals in the audience. In military terms, that's called "ceding territory" or "retreat" or "surrender."
Tuesday, October 07, 2008
What Obama Should Say (Rude Version), Part 2:
If, at tonight's debate in Nashville, when Tom Brokaw or some undecided voter asks Barack Obama about his association with former Weather Underground member and current Distinguished Professor of Education at the University of Illinois - Chicago William Ayers, and the Democratic candidate doesn't say, "Oh, fuck me, really? Okay, fine. You want me to talk about this shit? Here ya go: he's a dude on my street who held a coffee get-together for me years ago when I was gonna run to be the state senator of his 'hood. And we served at the same time on the board of the Woods Fund. You know what the Woods Fund does? It tries to help community organizers in Chicago get shit done for the poor, you know, like education, housing, and jobs. Now, Sarah Palin may think that community organizers don't do jack shit, but we did the work the government wouldn't or couldn't do. So, yeah, Ayers was there. But 'pal around' with him? Motherfucker, we followed Robert's Rules of Order together. Maybe for people who scream at and abuse their friends that counts as being 'pals,' but for most of us, it ain't even an 'acquaintance.' Dude, Johnny, you signed a confession that degraded America when you were over in 'Nam. And I'm the traitor?
"You really think people give a fat rat's fuck about William Ayers and what he did 40 years ago? Goddamn, Johnny Maverick, you must be shitting yourself so much that Cindy's gotta change them Depends every hour or you'll smell like you're rotting from the inside. You know what it means when all you got to throw at a candidate is people he's met? It means you're fuckin' frightened, man, and it means that you've maxed out your bullshit card - no one's buyin' what you're sellin', Johnny Maverick; just send that worthless shit back to the Republican warehouse of lies next to trickle-down and WMDs and commie spies in Hollywood.
"So you can have your Muppet-sounding idiot VP bitch out there in front of crowds, talkin' smack about me and gettin' people to yell, 'Kill him,' and you can try to convince everyone I'm a terrorist. Fuck, talk about Tony Rezko and Reverend Wright. Drag those corpses up there and cut new holes in 'em to try to show you can fuck 'em different than others have. But you know and I know that you're desperate. Motherfucker, you tied yourself to Reagan and Bush and now that ideology is sinkin' like cement shoes on a mob snitch. Drown, motherfucker, drown.
"I faced down Bill and Hillary Clinton, Johnny Mac. They pulled all that shit on me. They raped and beat me like new prison meat. Do you honestly think that your gimpy ass and that dimwitted attack cunt with you are gonna lay a hand on me?
"And you're in the shit now. 'Cause I've been waitin' for this moment, you fuckin' senile old fuck. I was waitin' until I could see the whites of your twitchy fuckin' eyes to pull the trigger on the Keating Gatling gun I've been holdin'. You wanted to take the gloves off. Then why are your hands shakin', bitch? You can send your people out there to say that you were cleared, but the name sticks, doesn't it? 'Keating Five'? I wasn't gonna go there, but you teed up the ball. I just swung the fuckin' club. Now, lemme ask you somethin'. What's more important - that some guy who did some shit four decades ago once said, 'Hi' to me or that you are one of the reasons that the federal government had to bail out the savings and loan industry? Moral equivalence doesn't work, does it, Johnny Mac?
"You stupid cocksucker, get your head out of your piss hole in the Hanoi Hilton. There's people out there killing themselves because they can't pay the mortgage. Jobs are disappearing faster than liver spots are popping up on your skin. Pakistan's about to go nutzoid, and they have actual nukes, not hallucinated ones like you thought Iraq had. And you actually think that anyone cares about Ayers other than the backward ass redneck country fucks who are so fuckin' retarded that they think Sarah Palin is smart. America's scared, man. You can't scare it any more than it is already.
"You decided to go from nasty to evil. You decided to make this personal. So when it's over, Johnny Mac, when your decrepit, crippled little body finally gives out on you after you lose this election, I want you to have to watch the TV and see me out there, livin' your dream, this Negro terrorist liberal elitist lawyer. I want the last thing you see on this earth to be me, standin' in the Rose Garden, smilin' at reporters and know that I'm smilin' at you, Johnny Maverick, knowin' that I'm right where you thought you would be" then the debate will be worthless.
If, at tonight's debate in Nashville, when Tom Brokaw or some undecided voter asks Barack Obama about his association with former Weather Underground member and current Distinguished Professor of Education at the University of Illinois - Chicago William Ayers, and the Democratic candidate doesn't say, "Oh, fuck me, really? Okay, fine. You want me to talk about this shit? Here ya go: he's a dude on my street who held a coffee get-together for me years ago when I was gonna run to be the state senator of his 'hood. And we served at the same time on the board of the Woods Fund. You know what the Woods Fund does? It tries to help community organizers in Chicago get shit done for the poor, you know, like education, housing, and jobs. Now, Sarah Palin may think that community organizers don't do jack shit, but we did the work the government wouldn't or couldn't do. So, yeah, Ayers was there. But 'pal around' with him? Motherfucker, we followed Robert's Rules of Order together. Maybe for people who scream at and abuse their friends that counts as being 'pals,' but for most of us, it ain't even an 'acquaintance.' Dude, Johnny, you signed a confession that degraded America when you were over in 'Nam. And I'm the traitor?
"You really think people give a fat rat's fuck about William Ayers and what he did 40 years ago? Goddamn, Johnny Maverick, you must be shitting yourself so much that Cindy's gotta change them Depends every hour or you'll smell like you're rotting from the inside. You know what it means when all you got to throw at a candidate is people he's met? It means you're fuckin' frightened, man, and it means that you've maxed out your bullshit card - no one's buyin' what you're sellin', Johnny Maverick; just send that worthless shit back to the Republican warehouse of lies next to trickle-down and WMDs and commie spies in Hollywood.
"So you can have your Muppet-sounding idiot VP bitch out there in front of crowds, talkin' smack about me and gettin' people to yell, 'Kill him,' and you can try to convince everyone I'm a terrorist. Fuck, talk about Tony Rezko and Reverend Wright. Drag those corpses up there and cut new holes in 'em to try to show you can fuck 'em different than others have. But you know and I know that you're desperate. Motherfucker, you tied yourself to Reagan and Bush and now that ideology is sinkin' like cement shoes on a mob snitch. Drown, motherfucker, drown.
"I faced down Bill and Hillary Clinton, Johnny Mac. They pulled all that shit on me. They raped and beat me like new prison meat. Do you honestly think that your gimpy ass and that dimwitted attack cunt with you are gonna lay a hand on me?
"And you're in the shit now. 'Cause I've been waitin' for this moment, you fuckin' senile old fuck. I was waitin' until I could see the whites of your twitchy fuckin' eyes to pull the trigger on the Keating Gatling gun I've been holdin'. You wanted to take the gloves off. Then why are your hands shakin', bitch? You can send your people out there to say that you were cleared, but the name sticks, doesn't it? 'Keating Five'? I wasn't gonna go there, but you teed up the ball. I just swung the fuckin' club. Now, lemme ask you somethin'. What's more important - that some guy who did some shit four decades ago once said, 'Hi' to me or that you are one of the reasons that the federal government had to bail out the savings and loan industry? Moral equivalence doesn't work, does it, Johnny Mac?
"You stupid cocksucker, get your head out of your piss hole in the Hanoi Hilton. There's people out there killing themselves because they can't pay the mortgage. Jobs are disappearing faster than liver spots are popping up on your skin. Pakistan's about to go nutzoid, and they have actual nukes, not hallucinated ones like you thought Iraq had. And you actually think that anyone cares about Ayers other than the backward ass redneck country fucks who are so fuckin' retarded that they think Sarah Palin is smart. America's scared, man. You can't scare it any more than it is already.
"You decided to go from nasty to evil. You decided to make this personal. So when it's over, Johnny Mac, when your decrepit, crippled little body finally gives out on you after you lose this election, I want you to have to watch the TV and see me out there, livin' your dream, this Negro terrorist liberal elitist lawyer. I want the last thing you see on this earth to be me, standin' in the Rose Garden, smilin' at reporters and know that I'm smilin' at you, Johnny Maverick, knowin' that I'm right where you thought you would be" then the debate will be worthless.
Monday, October 06, 2008
Karl Rove's Folly:
In the basement of his house, late at night, long after most people have gone to bed, Karl Rove sits at his computer, ready for another session. He's got a bowl of Doritos and a cold beer on the desk near his mouse pad. He's got a small vibrator shoved into his asshole, just enough to tickle but not put pressure on his prostate. Turned on high, he gets hard almost immediately. He is not wearing pants. Rove clicks on the YouTube clip he's got ready to go. And he grabs his erect dick, not much bigger than a ten year-old's thumb, and starts yanking as soon as Sarah Palin's voice begins.
Yeah, yeah, he says as he hears Palin accuse Barack Obama of "palling around with terrorists." Goddamn beautiful. Sure, it's complete and utter bullshit. Hell, if anyone gave a shit about truth, someone oughta say that William Ayers turned himself in for his crimes, ready to go to be punished. It just so happened that the FBI fucked up the case against him, so he walked. But truth is for losers who live in a real world. Palin is a dreamer on a win streak.
Oh, she's amazing, Rove thinks, slowing down, not wanting to come just yet, squeezing his balls to pain and turning the vibrator down.
Of course, McCain will lose this time, Rove knows. Now that Keating's come back, he's done. And as the top of the ticket, with two more debates for him to shake and sputter and fuck up, he's doomed. Schmidt blew it right after the convention, that idiot child. But that's not the point. The country's an impatient beast. Four years of Obama and a Democratic Congress trying to clean up the mess left behind by the Bush administration trashing the country like Keith Moon on a whiskey bender in an L.A. hotel suite, and it's over. How much can get done in such a short period? And who will be blamed in 2012? People will be begging for Republicans to come in and save the day. And Rove will be there, with Palin as his front, ready to storm the White House once more.
Palin is the perfection of Rovean cynicism. She is George W. Bush without the sense of royal privilege that wealth imparts. She is all context without substance. He watches her sneer at the notion that Obama, this high yellow intellectual with his faggoty ways, could dare be the man that John McCain is, that she is. Yes, as a thinker, she is a tabula rasa, but he will be Svengali to her Trilby some day. He will mold her skill at wielding the hunting knife and show her that the point is not to treat your opponent like a moose to be gutted, but like a pig waiting to be bled. He will hand her the scalpel; he will then give her the axe.
Rove clicks on a video of Palin at the debate, winking in slow motion, again and again, her lips parted just enough for rough insert of his dick, and he turns the vibrator back up, leaning into it more, trying to press it against his prostate, and he begins to viciously jack it, finally spewing stinking spooge all over the screen, all over Palin's 2-dimensional face and glasses.
He leans forward, sweaty, balls aching, asshole throbbing, and kisses Palin, rubbing his face against his own semen and against her cheek. "You are untamed and wild," he whispers to her phantom image, "but you exist only because of me."
In the basement of his house, late at night, long after most people have gone to bed, Karl Rove sits at his computer, ready for another session. He's got a bowl of Doritos and a cold beer on the desk near his mouse pad. He's got a small vibrator shoved into his asshole, just enough to tickle but not put pressure on his prostate. Turned on high, he gets hard almost immediately. He is not wearing pants. Rove clicks on the YouTube clip he's got ready to go. And he grabs his erect dick, not much bigger than a ten year-old's thumb, and starts yanking as soon as Sarah Palin's voice begins.
Yeah, yeah, he says as he hears Palin accuse Barack Obama of "palling around with terrorists." Goddamn beautiful. Sure, it's complete and utter bullshit. Hell, if anyone gave a shit about truth, someone oughta say that William Ayers turned himself in for his crimes, ready to go to be punished. It just so happened that the FBI fucked up the case against him, so he walked. But truth is for losers who live in a real world. Palin is a dreamer on a win streak.
Oh, she's amazing, Rove thinks, slowing down, not wanting to come just yet, squeezing his balls to pain and turning the vibrator down.
Of course, McCain will lose this time, Rove knows. Now that Keating's come back, he's done. And as the top of the ticket, with two more debates for him to shake and sputter and fuck up, he's doomed. Schmidt blew it right after the convention, that idiot child. But that's not the point. The country's an impatient beast. Four years of Obama and a Democratic Congress trying to clean up the mess left behind by the Bush administration trashing the country like Keith Moon on a whiskey bender in an L.A. hotel suite, and it's over. How much can get done in such a short period? And who will be blamed in 2012? People will be begging for Republicans to come in and save the day. And Rove will be there, with Palin as his front, ready to storm the White House once more.
Palin is the perfection of Rovean cynicism. She is George W. Bush without the sense of royal privilege that wealth imparts. She is all context without substance. He watches her sneer at the notion that Obama, this high yellow intellectual with his faggoty ways, could dare be the man that John McCain is, that she is. Yes, as a thinker, she is a tabula rasa, but he will be Svengali to her Trilby some day. He will mold her skill at wielding the hunting knife and show her that the point is not to treat your opponent like a moose to be gutted, but like a pig waiting to be bled. He will hand her the scalpel; he will then give her the axe.
Rove clicks on a video of Palin at the debate, winking in slow motion, again and again, her lips parted just enough for rough insert of his dick, and he turns the vibrator back up, leaning into it more, trying to press it against his prostate, and he begins to viciously jack it, finally spewing stinking spooge all over the screen, all over Palin's 2-dimensional face and glasses.
He leans forward, sweaty, balls aching, asshole throbbing, and kisses Palin, rubbing his face against his own semen and against her cheek. "You are untamed and wild," he whispers to her phantom image, "but you exist only because of me."
Friday, October 03, 2008
Joe Biden Beats Up a Woman With Glasses:
Christ Almighty, could Republicans just stop pretending here? Regarding the debate between Joe Biden and Sarah Palin, David "Where's the Salad Bar, Applebee's?" Brooks, with his deep understanding of "real" people, actually said in the New York Times that Palin was "vibrant and tactically clever." In the Wall Street Journal, Peggy Noonan proclaimed, "She killed...She is the political equivalent of cardiac paddles" to the McCain campaign. All over, conservatives were tripping on each others' tongues trying to proclaim Palin triumphant. Except they leave out one crucial factor. She lost the debate.
No, no. Let's take this further. Joe Biden kicked Sarah Palin's perky ass from one end of that stage to another. It was humiliating, watching the bizarro display of Palin, this talking points automaton set on "spunk," absolutely failing to impart any cogent thoughts or cohesive answers or even string together the surprisingly full sentences she spoke into anything like a policy. Here's just a few observations:
1. Joe Biden never, not once in the whole debate, referred to Palin as just "Sarah." It was the perfect rhetorical strategy, to show respect to her office and also not allowing her to keep claiming how she's just an ordinary person. Nope, she's a "governor" and therefore a politician. Also, his smile at Palin could have been interpreted as almost fatherly. But it seemed like he realized that she really was just a dipshit in lipstick and he could put himself on cruise control.
2. She called herself or McCain "mavericks" at least half a dozen times. You know how to prove you're not a "maverick"? By saying you're a maverick. (And Biden had the definitive answer to the whole line with his "He has not been a maverick" rant.)
3. The debate was more or less over when Palin declared to Biden when the Republican hadn't given a response to a question about deregulation, "I may not answer the questions the way that either the moderator or you want to hear." That meant that, for Palin, it wasn't a debate. It was a stump speech. It's one thing for a candidate to repeat lines from campaign appearances. It's quite another to declare you're just not gonna engage. Noonan saw this as a positive: "As far as Mrs. Palin was concerned, Gwen Ifill was not there, and Joe Biden was not there. Sarah and the camera were there."
It's like going to a Chinese restaurant and demanding Argentinean food. It's absurd. Go to the right fucking restaurant. It's like paying a hot hooker to give you a blow job at your place, but she just wants to drink your liquor and steal your iPhone. Well, you can surmise, lesson learned.
4. In fact, let's take a couple of examples here. When she was asked what her "Achilles' heel" was as a candidate (a stupid fucking question, by the way), she didn't even make a pass at it, only rambling through her qualifications. And she went off on a strange education-related tangent when she and Biden were talking about general middle class-related issues. She wanted to cram in what she had memorized about McCain's education policies and, goddamnit, no one's gonna stop her. How many times did she say, "I wanna talk about" shit?
5. Several times, Palin scolded Biden for daring to blame the Bush administration for their fuck-ups, saying, "[T]here's just too much finger-pointing backwards." Yet she claimed about McCain, "He knows to learn from the mistakes and blunders we have seen in the war in Iraq." Now, the Rude Pundit's no genius of linguistic parsing, but, well, fuck, isn't that the same fucking thing? And what kind of fucking idiot doesn't think it's important to acknowledge what causes climate changes in order to solve climate changes? "Hey, you've got HIV, but we're not gonna study anything to see how the virus works, we're just gonna inject you with a bunch of shit and hope for the best."
You know what? Forget it. The Rude Pundit's disgusted talking about this nothing, this nobody, this perfect amalgamation of Machiavelli and Chauncey Gardiner. She's sound and fury, motherfuckers, sound and fury with a funny accent. If she's the future of American politics, then we are goddamned. Biden wiped the floor with her. Facts trump bullshit folksiness. Don't let anyone tell you different.
Correction: An earlier version of this post quoted Sarah Palin, from the CNN transcript of the debate, as saying, "I may not answer the questions that either the moderator or you want to hear." However, Palin's exact wording was "I may not answer the questions the way that either the moderator or you want to hear." The text above has been corrected. But the point still stands: she refused to answer the actual questions that were asked her, she didn't give a shit if she answered them, and she's a fucking dimwit.
Christ Almighty, could Republicans just stop pretending here? Regarding the debate between Joe Biden and Sarah Palin, David "Where's the Salad Bar, Applebee's?" Brooks, with his deep understanding of "real" people, actually said in the New York Times that Palin was "vibrant and tactically clever." In the Wall Street Journal, Peggy Noonan proclaimed, "She killed...She is the political equivalent of cardiac paddles" to the McCain campaign. All over, conservatives were tripping on each others' tongues trying to proclaim Palin triumphant. Except they leave out one crucial factor. She lost the debate.
No, no. Let's take this further. Joe Biden kicked Sarah Palin's perky ass from one end of that stage to another. It was humiliating, watching the bizarro display of Palin, this talking points automaton set on "spunk," absolutely failing to impart any cogent thoughts or cohesive answers or even string together the surprisingly full sentences she spoke into anything like a policy. Here's just a few observations:
1. Joe Biden never, not once in the whole debate, referred to Palin as just "Sarah." It was the perfect rhetorical strategy, to show respect to her office and also not allowing her to keep claiming how she's just an ordinary person. Nope, she's a "governor" and therefore a politician. Also, his smile at Palin could have been interpreted as almost fatherly. But it seemed like he realized that she really was just a dipshit in lipstick and he could put himself on cruise control.
2. She called herself or McCain "mavericks" at least half a dozen times. You know how to prove you're not a "maverick"? By saying you're a maverick. (And Biden had the definitive answer to the whole line with his "He has not been a maverick" rant.)
3. The debate was more or less over when Palin declared to Biden when the Republican hadn't given a response to a question about deregulation, "I may not answer the questions the way that either the moderator or you want to hear." That meant that, for Palin, it wasn't a debate. It was a stump speech. It's one thing for a candidate to repeat lines from campaign appearances. It's quite another to declare you're just not gonna engage. Noonan saw this as a positive: "As far as Mrs. Palin was concerned, Gwen Ifill was not there, and Joe Biden was not there. Sarah and the camera were there."
It's like going to a Chinese restaurant and demanding Argentinean food. It's absurd. Go to the right fucking restaurant. It's like paying a hot hooker to give you a blow job at your place, but she just wants to drink your liquor and steal your iPhone. Well, you can surmise, lesson learned.
4. In fact, let's take a couple of examples here. When she was asked what her "Achilles' heel" was as a candidate (a stupid fucking question, by the way), she didn't even make a pass at it, only rambling through her qualifications. And she went off on a strange education-related tangent when she and Biden were talking about general middle class-related issues. She wanted to cram in what she had memorized about McCain's education policies and, goddamnit, no one's gonna stop her. How many times did she say, "I wanna talk about" shit?
5. Several times, Palin scolded Biden for daring to blame the Bush administration for their fuck-ups, saying, "[T]here's just too much finger-pointing backwards." Yet she claimed about McCain, "He knows to learn from the mistakes and blunders we have seen in the war in Iraq." Now, the Rude Pundit's no genius of linguistic parsing, but, well, fuck, isn't that the same fucking thing? And what kind of fucking idiot doesn't think it's important to acknowledge what causes climate changes in order to solve climate changes? "Hey, you've got HIV, but we're not gonna study anything to see how the virus works, we're just gonna inject you with a bunch of shit and hope for the best."
You know what? Forget it. The Rude Pundit's disgusted talking about this nothing, this nobody, this perfect amalgamation of Machiavelli and Chauncey Gardiner. She's sound and fury, motherfuckers, sound and fury with a funny accent. If she's the future of American politics, then we are goddamned. Biden wiped the floor with her. Facts trump bullshit folksiness. Don't let anyone tell you different.
Correction: An earlier version of this post quoted Sarah Palin, from the CNN transcript of the debate, as saying, "I may not answer the questions that either the moderator or you want to hear." However, Palin's exact wording was "I may not answer the questions the way that either the moderator or you want to hear." The text above has been corrected. But the point still stands: she refused to answer the actual questions that were asked her, she didn't give a shit if she answered them, and she's a fucking dimwit.
Thursday, October 02, 2008
What Biden Ought To Say (Rude Version):
If at tonight's debate, Gwen Ifill asks Democratic vice presidential candidate Joe Biden whether he thinks Republican vice presidential candidate Sarah Palin is qualified to be president, and he doesn't say, "Gwen, let me speak for the vast majority of people in this country when I say, frankly and honestly, 'What the fuck?' No, really, What. The. Fuck. I mean, everyone's seen this goddamned idiot over here running around and playing national candidate dress-up. And isn't it embarrassing? Isn't it just so depressingly, godforsakenly embarrassing? C'mon, Republicans, you gotta hate yourselves for having to constantly defend her when she says something utterly incomprehensible or just plain friggin' dumb. You gotta hate yourselves for how far you've devolved.
"Really, what the fuck? And don't gimme that fuckin' little sour-faced sneer, Sarah, where you look like just sucked a sweaty hobo's cock. 'Cause you know it's true and every time you get asked a question that stumps you, which is every fuckin' question, and you get that look in your eyes like the deer laying on the road way after the headlights have gone by, you gotta wonder, 'What the fuck?' yourself. You're in over your head, and there ain't no life preserver here.
"Last week, we all had to watch while John McCain treated Barack Obama like he had just fucked McCain's daughter's lily-white snatch with his big black dick. Barack Obama fought for months to win the votes of his party to win the nomination. What the fuck did you do, Sarah? You ran a town that's the size of a Super Wal-Mart? You're a governor? Of fuckin' Alaska? Jesus fuckin' Christ, that means your only job is to see how much you can get away with fucking up the environment to squeeze a little more filthy oil lucre out of the wheezing earth so you can please the corporations that fuckin' own your state and to see how much you can afford to bribe the citizens there with Exxon's profits. And you're on stage with me? At best, you should be the second focus group-ready questioner in a townhall meeting, you know, the crazy Christian chick from a rural state no one gives a fuck about but we all have to pretend matters because of the electoral college.
"And you wanna make fun of me? Saying you were in 2nd grade when I was first in the Senate? Fuck you. You know what I was doing then while your daddy was showing you how to rip the intestines out of a moose or some such shit? I was trying to stop the Nixon administration from blowing the fuck out Cambodia. And when you were sashaying your ass around a stage in a swimsuit and heels, wondering if you could just handjob the judges backstage, I was facing down Ronald Reagan for his insane policies, including in Lebanon. But that'd be history and that requires you to think about more than whatever talking points John McCain has been jamming up your twat and down your throat for the last couple of months, which is the only time you've given a shit about more than how to use your office to get jobs for friends, take revenge on ex-in-laws, and get pretty, shiny presents.
"I don't wanna fuckin' hear about this dink anymore. I don't wanna know about how she went to five different safety schools before squeezing out a vanity degree like a turd from a constipated old man. I don't wanna hear about her retarded baby. I don't wanna hear about her knocked-up teenage daughter. I don't wanna hear about her fuckin' redneck husband. Fuck them. They are the ones who need to be led, not the ones who need to be leading. So I don't give a fuck about what Bush with boobs here has to say about jack shit. And you know what else? I don't wanna hear about the wisdom of small town America. You know where the Founders spent their time? In the cities. In Paris. In London. Small towns? That's called 'isolation.' And it's bullshit political talk for 'white,' Gwen. Oh, do I sound elitist? If it's elitist to want to elect people who actually have a thought in their head about more than whether or not to name the next child 'Remington' or 'Colt,' then, fine, fuck me, it's elitist.
"This ain't a fuckin' game, Gwen. It ain't a fuckin' beauty pageant where you can give a cross-eyed hummer to a flute and charm your way to second place. We already played let's-put-the-idiot-in-charge. How'd that work out, huh? So it ain't funny that we are actually having a serious discussion about someone who is caught off guard when asked for a newspaper she reads. It's not funny. Not when the top of her ticket is Old Geezer Grumpy McStrokeEye. So, no, Gwen, even if the economy was so good that everyone was knee deep in cash and pussy or cock, even if Osama bin Laden told all his people to go back to goat fucking and then killed himself, even if all of a sudden we discovered we could all power our cars cleanly with pig shit, even if the streets were paved with gold, Gwen, this fuckin' idiot, who couldn't discuss a foreign policy even though her soldier son's life depends on it and who couldn't even name the Exxon Valdez case, fer chrissake, oughta be arrested if she sets foot in Washington, DC," then the whole thing will be worthless.
If at tonight's debate, Gwen Ifill asks Democratic vice presidential candidate Joe Biden whether he thinks Republican vice presidential candidate Sarah Palin is qualified to be president, and he doesn't say, "Gwen, let me speak for the vast majority of people in this country when I say, frankly and honestly, 'What the fuck?' No, really, What. The. Fuck. I mean, everyone's seen this goddamned idiot over here running around and playing national candidate dress-up. And isn't it embarrassing? Isn't it just so depressingly, godforsakenly embarrassing? C'mon, Republicans, you gotta hate yourselves for having to constantly defend her when she says something utterly incomprehensible or just plain friggin' dumb. You gotta hate yourselves for how far you've devolved.
"Really, what the fuck? And don't gimme that fuckin' little sour-faced sneer, Sarah, where you look like just sucked a sweaty hobo's cock. 'Cause you know it's true and every time you get asked a question that stumps you, which is every fuckin' question, and you get that look in your eyes like the deer laying on the road way after the headlights have gone by, you gotta wonder, 'What the fuck?' yourself. You're in over your head, and there ain't no life preserver here.
"Last week, we all had to watch while John McCain treated Barack Obama like he had just fucked McCain's daughter's lily-white snatch with his big black dick. Barack Obama fought for months to win the votes of his party to win the nomination. What the fuck did you do, Sarah? You ran a town that's the size of a Super Wal-Mart? You're a governor? Of fuckin' Alaska? Jesus fuckin' Christ, that means your only job is to see how much you can get away with fucking up the environment to squeeze a little more filthy oil lucre out of the wheezing earth so you can please the corporations that fuckin' own your state and to see how much you can afford to bribe the citizens there with Exxon's profits. And you're on stage with me? At best, you should be the second focus group-ready questioner in a townhall meeting, you know, the crazy Christian chick from a rural state no one gives a fuck about but we all have to pretend matters because of the electoral college.
"And you wanna make fun of me? Saying you were in 2nd grade when I was first in the Senate? Fuck you. You know what I was doing then while your daddy was showing you how to rip the intestines out of a moose or some such shit? I was trying to stop the Nixon administration from blowing the fuck out Cambodia. And when you were sashaying your ass around a stage in a swimsuit and heels, wondering if you could just handjob the judges backstage, I was facing down Ronald Reagan for his insane policies, including in Lebanon. But that'd be history and that requires you to think about more than whatever talking points John McCain has been jamming up your twat and down your throat for the last couple of months, which is the only time you've given a shit about more than how to use your office to get jobs for friends, take revenge on ex-in-laws, and get pretty, shiny presents.
"I don't wanna fuckin' hear about this dink anymore. I don't wanna know about how she went to five different safety schools before squeezing out a vanity degree like a turd from a constipated old man. I don't wanna hear about her retarded baby. I don't wanna hear about her knocked-up teenage daughter. I don't wanna hear about her fuckin' redneck husband. Fuck them. They are the ones who need to be led, not the ones who need to be leading. So I don't give a fuck about what Bush with boobs here has to say about jack shit. And you know what else? I don't wanna hear about the wisdom of small town America. You know where the Founders spent their time? In the cities. In Paris. In London. Small towns? That's called 'isolation.' And it's bullshit political talk for 'white,' Gwen. Oh, do I sound elitist? If it's elitist to want to elect people who actually have a thought in their head about more than whether or not to name the next child 'Remington' or 'Colt,' then, fine, fuck me, it's elitist.
"This ain't a fuckin' game, Gwen. It ain't a fuckin' beauty pageant where you can give a cross-eyed hummer to a flute and charm your way to second place. We already played let's-put-the-idiot-in-charge. How'd that work out, huh? So it ain't funny that we are actually having a serious discussion about someone who is caught off guard when asked for a newspaper she reads. It's not funny. Not when the top of her ticket is Old Geezer Grumpy McStrokeEye. So, no, Gwen, even if the economy was so good that everyone was knee deep in cash and pussy or cock, even if Osama bin Laden told all his people to go back to goat fucking and then killed himself, even if all of a sudden we discovered we could all power our cars cleanly with pig shit, even if the streets were paved with gold, Gwen, this fuckin' idiot, who couldn't discuss a foreign policy even though her soldier son's life depends on it and who couldn't even name the Exxon Valdez case, fer chrissake, oughta be arrested if she sets foot in Washington, DC," then the whole thing will be worthless.
Wednesday, October 01, 2008
Photos That Make the Rude Pundit Want to Smoke Meth While Downing Moonshine:
That sign was defaced in Abingdon, Virginia. It's kind of par for the course this year.
Just in the last month: In Fulks Run, Virginia, someone painted the letters "KKK" on an Obama for President sign. For a really charming take, check out what the yahoo puke savages at some godforsaken discussion board for the deluded and self-defecating have to say. The best phrase? Put the article through "your jewspeak translator."
In Pittsfield Township, Michigan, just south of college town Ann Arbor, on an Obama billboard, "Black spray paint was used to draw three swastikas, Klan hoods, a poorly rendered Confederate flag; and to write 'KKK,' 'Rebel' and two racial slurs." The Rude Pundit loves the idea of a couple of drunk, racist fucktards trying to figure out how to draw a Confederate flag at 3 in the morning.
In Cookeville, Tennessee, another sign, another defacing. This one in the middle of the town. A friend tells the Rude Pundit that it was up for maybe a day before someone painted "nigger" and "KKK" on it.
In Edmond, Oklahoma, same story, different landscape. And in Spokane, Washington. And in Sacramento, California. In Upper Arlington, Ohio, the variation was to spray paint "Death Obama" on the house that had a sign in the yard.
This, of course, is not to mention the Oregon incident of the cardboard Obama hanged in effigy.
Yeah, most of these are just a couple of knuckle-dragging idiot teenagers or college students looking to do something stupid because they can't smoke enough basement meth to quell the despair in their lives or maybe they wanna impress some other shithead or whatever. But it still bespeaks a sorrowful, shameful infection that will never be cut out or cured. And that has to be actively ignored in this political season because there ain't enough time to address it.
Just a short reminder here today of what exactly we're up against.
That sign was defaced in Abingdon, Virginia. It's kind of par for the course this year.
Just in the last month: In Fulks Run, Virginia, someone painted the letters "KKK" on an Obama for President sign. For a really charming take, check out what the yahoo puke savages at some godforsaken discussion board for the deluded and self-defecating have to say. The best phrase? Put the article through "your jewspeak translator."
In Pittsfield Township, Michigan, just south of college town Ann Arbor, on an Obama billboard, "Black spray paint was used to draw three swastikas, Klan hoods, a poorly rendered Confederate flag; and to write 'KKK,' 'Rebel' and two racial slurs." The Rude Pundit loves the idea of a couple of drunk, racist fucktards trying to figure out how to draw a Confederate flag at 3 in the morning.
In Cookeville, Tennessee, another sign, another defacing. This one in the middle of the town. A friend tells the Rude Pundit that it was up for maybe a day before someone painted "nigger" and "KKK" on it.
In Edmond, Oklahoma, same story, different landscape. And in Spokane, Washington. And in Sacramento, California. In Upper Arlington, Ohio, the variation was to spray paint "Death Obama" on the house that had a sign in the yard.
This, of course, is not to mention the Oregon incident of the cardboard Obama hanged in effigy.
Yeah, most of these are just a couple of knuckle-dragging idiot teenagers or college students looking to do something stupid because they can't smoke enough basement meth to quell the despair in their lives or maybe they wanna impress some other shithead or whatever. But it still bespeaks a sorrowful, shameful infection that will never be cut out or cured. And that has to be actively ignored in this political season because there ain't enough time to address it.
Just a short reminder here today of what exactly we're up against.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Portrait of a Very Small Man in a Very Big Crisis:
Look at him there, with Ukrainian President Viktor Yushchenko yesterday. It's just after the Wall Street bailout - oh, wait, sorry - rescue bill failed because Republicans just don't give a happy monkey fuck about his opinions anymore. Look at him. He looks like nothing so much as the kid with spina bifida who everyone feels sorry for while he wheels around the high school cafeteria. Hunched over, suit rumpled, as Nixonian as any politician could look without actually being Nixon. And, remember, this is the official White House photo of the event.
Here's what he looked like in a Reuters picture, more manic depressive who just got out of bed than, say, leader of the free world, if such phrases have meaning anymore:
This morning when he spoke, he may as well have just said, "Can we just have the election tomorrow so I can get the hell out of here? Really, I'm just in the way," and, truly, would anyone have argued with him? Instead, he spouted nonsense like, "Producing legislation is complicated, and it can be contentious" and held to his standard lines no matter what the scenario, "The sooner we address the problem, the sooner we can get back on the path of growth and job creation." These were not words of comfort. They were words of utter diminution and defeat. He may as well have just walked out to the lectern and vomited.
The people of the United States do not want this bill. They do not want this bailout, and that's for so many reasons: we've been told for the last couple of decades how wealth equals wisdom, even if it's not Bill Gates-type wealth where somebody made something and sold it; we've been told that government only gets in the way of the free market; we've been told to invest in shit that's so complicated that we need fuckin' PhDs in post-fordist macroeconomic theory just to have a chance to understand our 401Ks; and we have completely lost faith in the small man in the White House, the man who made himself small and insignificant in the eyes of the people by design so that he may creep around and commit his crimes in the shadows. In times when we demand a benevolent giant, we have a syphilitic dwarf, mad Rumplestiltskin in a suit.
Another kind of leader might have truly realized the magnitude of what may happen if financial institutions are not stabilized (and let's not be fooled by yesterday's megadrop in the stock market - that's a fuckin' shell game - it's already up nearly 250 as this is written). That other kind of leader, even one who has made all the same mistakes as this one, might have pushed aside thoughts of himself and his legacy, been honest with people, and said, "Okay, look, you are all right about me. I fucked up. I fucked it all up. Iraq, Katrina, Afghanistan, the environment, whatever you wanna name. I should have never been president in the first place. But you gotta understand: it's real this time. The weapons have been found and they're about to go off under your feet and there's no one to torture to find out how to stop them from detonating." Oh, that such Jimmy Stewart fantasy moments were real.
He needed to level with us and speak to us straight, not with childish bullshit like, "That, no question, is a large amount of money. We're also dealing with a large problem." That's like reading us My Pet Goat instead of talking to us like we have a stake in whatever happens. He'll be gone in less than four months, rich and obligated to no one. He can go live in a mansion and wipe his ass with gold-leaf toilet paper for the rest of his years.
Once more, we needed him to stand tall. Once more, he did not. He could not. It's not his nature. Instead, he has opted to become even smaller, trying, as the picture there shows, to disappear into himself. And hoping that we don't even notice. He shouldn't worry. We stopped noticing him a long time ago.
Look at him there, with Ukrainian President Viktor Yushchenko yesterday. It's just after the Wall Street bailout - oh, wait, sorry - rescue bill failed because Republicans just don't give a happy monkey fuck about his opinions anymore. Look at him. He looks like nothing so much as the kid with spina bifida who everyone feels sorry for while he wheels around the high school cafeteria. Hunched over, suit rumpled, as Nixonian as any politician could look without actually being Nixon. And, remember, this is the official White House photo of the event.Here's what he looked like in a Reuters picture, more manic depressive who just got out of bed than, say, leader of the free world, if such phrases have meaning anymore:
This morning when he spoke, he may as well have just said, "Can we just have the election tomorrow so I can get the hell out of here? Really, I'm just in the way," and, truly, would anyone have argued with him? Instead, he spouted nonsense like, "Producing legislation is complicated, and it can be contentious" and held to his standard lines no matter what the scenario, "The sooner we address the problem, the sooner we can get back on the path of growth and job creation." These were not words of comfort. They were words of utter diminution and defeat. He may as well have just walked out to the lectern and vomited.
The people of the United States do not want this bill. They do not want this bailout, and that's for so many reasons: we've been told for the last couple of decades how wealth equals wisdom, even if it's not Bill Gates-type wealth where somebody made something and sold it; we've been told that government only gets in the way of the free market; we've been told to invest in shit that's so complicated that we need fuckin' PhDs in post-fordist macroeconomic theory just to have a chance to understand our 401Ks; and we have completely lost faith in the small man in the White House, the man who made himself small and insignificant in the eyes of the people by design so that he may creep around and commit his crimes in the shadows. In times when we demand a benevolent giant, we have a syphilitic dwarf, mad Rumplestiltskin in a suit.
Another kind of leader might have truly realized the magnitude of what may happen if financial institutions are not stabilized (and let's not be fooled by yesterday's megadrop in the stock market - that's a fuckin' shell game - it's already up nearly 250 as this is written). That other kind of leader, even one who has made all the same mistakes as this one, might have pushed aside thoughts of himself and his legacy, been honest with people, and said, "Okay, look, you are all right about me. I fucked up. I fucked it all up. Iraq, Katrina, Afghanistan, the environment, whatever you wanna name. I should have never been president in the first place. But you gotta understand: it's real this time. The weapons have been found and they're about to go off under your feet and there's no one to torture to find out how to stop them from detonating." Oh, that such Jimmy Stewart fantasy moments were real.
He needed to level with us and speak to us straight, not with childish bullshit like, "That, no question, is a large amount of money. We're also dealing with a large problem." That's like reading us My Pet Goat instead of talking to us like we have a stake in whatever happens. He'll be gone in less than four months, rich and obligated to no one. He can go live in a mansion and wipe his ass with gold-leaf toilet paper for the rest of his years.
Once more, we needed him to stand tall. Once more, he did not. He could not. It's not his nature. Instead, he has opted to become even smaller, trying, as the picture there shows, to disappear into himself. And hoping that we don't even notice. He shouldn't worry. We stopped noticing him a long time ago.
Monday, September 29, 2008
Fifth Anniversary Reader Shakedown Spectacular, Final Day:
Here we are. The official fifth anniversary date. Do you feel the universe heave an orgasmic sigh?
This afternoon, more answers to readers' questions. And if you wanna subscribe to the Rude Pundit's new podcast (and where you can find all the audio from last week), head on over to Podbean. You can even do it through your iTunes.
And today is the last day the hat'll be shaking on this street corner. If you wanna toss some cash into it, click over on the side or right here:
Oh, and tonight the Rude Pundit will be at Shoot the Messenger here in NYC, which will feature the morning news show parody Wake Up World and Lizz Winstead interviewing Naomi Wolf, stepping in for Bill Moyers.
Here we are. The official fifth anniversary date. Do you feel the universe heave an orgasmic sigh?
This afternoon, more answers to readers' questions. And if you wanna subscribe to the Rude Pundit's new podcast (and where you can find all the audio from last week), head on over to Podbean. You can even do it through your iTunes.
And today is the last day the hat'll be shaking on this street corner. If you wanna toss some cash into it, click over on the side or right here:
Oh, and tonight the Rude Pundit will be at Shoot the Messenger here in NYC, which will feature the morning news show parody Wake Up World and Lizz Winstead interviewing Naomi Wolf, stepping in for Bill Moyers.
John McCain's Pen Is "Kind of Old" and Other Observations at the First Presidential Debate:
1. Jim Lehrer's constant attempts to get the candidates to look at and speak to each other were just creepy, kind of like a gay porn director working with a couple of first-timers: "No, no, John, you have to look at Barack while you jack each other off."
2. John McCain looked like nothing so much as a plantation owner just after the end of the Civil War forced to have a conversation with one of his freed slaves. There's no way he was gonna look that nigger in the eye and allow him to think they're equals. Used to be you could lynch a darkie for addressing a white man by his first name. Now, they think they can talk to you like they're humans.
3. One surefire way to get that ever-elusive youth vote? Tell the young guy he doesn't understand the shit you're talking about. Seriously, McCain campaign, make sure the pissed-off old man keeps saying that Obama is naive. It makes him look so hip and in touch and ready to consider all ideas. Hey, how about adding this: "Senator Obama's music is too loud and I don't like his friends"? And keep using words like "festoon," as in "It was festooned with Christmas tree ornaments." Try "betokens" next debate.
4. The Rude Pundit has finally figured out what the strongest pro-war lobby is: the bracelet-making industry. More dead soldiers means more bracelets, and they come in pro-war relative and anti-war relative models.
5. When Barack Obama smiles at an attack, McCain's people ought to be shitting themselves. It was after one of those smiles that Obama pronounced his list of "Stuff What Johnny Maverick Was Wrong About As Regards Iraq." It was the law professor seeing an opening in a student's presentation to go in and gut him teach him a lesson.
6. Conversely, McCain should never, never smile. It is a truly chilling sight, akin to seeing a gang of zombie dwarfs with knives coming at you when you are cornered in an alley. McCain attempting charm is like a child molester trying to offer makeup tips at toddler beauty pageants - it's wrong, and it should never be allowed to happen.
7. Conversely, what the fuck was with McCain's Popeye-like under his breath muttering? That was McCain's slight pressure valve release for, surely, Obama twice almost made McCain blow up like a blocked cannon. You could look at McCain and see that he was picturing some NVA guy taunting him after a beating and that McCain recalled all those fantasies of crawling surreptitiously out of his cage to slit his captor's throat and bathing in the arterial spray. When Obama and McCain went to town over what Henry Kissinger said, McCain almost hulked out. Well, actually, it was more like that Looney Tunes short where Elmer Fudd drinks some Jekyll/Hyde formula. (Actually, Elmer Fudd and Bugs Bunny's not a bad analogy.)
8. Would Obama please point out that John McCain is only mavericky when he agrees with Democrats? And that most of that maverick shit happened over a decade ago? Otherwise, he's just another Republican stooge lining up to happily suckle from Bush's nipples, even longer than most. Motherfucker's been nursing even though those teats went dry a couple of years ago.
9. While Obama didn't beat up an old man, even if few old men have ever deserved to have their hips splintered in public worse than John McCain, he outdid Kerry and Gore by simply refusing to take any shit from McCain. You can complain, and you should, that he said McCain was right too often. And there were so many times Obama could have called McCain a "liar" or have said something like, "You'd follow bin Laden to the gate of Hell, but not Pakistan? Man, Pakistan must be harsh." Still, overall, Obama was Obama, cool, unflappable, and dignified. A motherfucking President, in case you can't remember what that's like. And McCain was McCain, a crazed coot who doesn't know who the fuck he is anymore. The most annoying guy at the nursing home.
10. Oh, yeah. On substance? Whatever. They each said shit that was true, shit that was false, shit that was spin. They each made in-the-moment gaffes (although McCain's history of Pakistan was, to put it mildly, dumb). People don't remember that, though. Remember: America is stupid. We don't actually care what they say. We care how they say it. And, as the Rude Pundit said a long time ago when he said everyone should wait for the debates before they get all worried about Obama, America doesn't wanna listen to a raspy, s-whistling Methuselah in training for the next four to eight years.
1. Jim Lehrer's constant attempts to get the candidates to look at and speak to each other were just creepy, kind of like a gay porn director working with a couple of first-timers: "No, no, John, you have to look at Barack while you jack each other off."
2. John McCain looked like nothing so much as a plantation owner just after the end of the Civil War forced to have a conversation with one of his freed slaves. There's no way he was gonna look that nigger in the eye and allow him to think they're equals. Used to be you could lynch a darkie for addressing a white man by his first name. Now, they think they can talk to you like they're humans.
3. One surefire way to get that ever-elusive youth vote? Tell the young guy he doesn't understand the shit you're talking about. Seriously, McCain campaign, make sure the pissed-off old man keeps saying that Obama is naive. It makes him look so hip and in touch and ready to consider all ideas. Hey, how about adding this: "Senator Obama's music is too loud and I don't like his friends"? And keep using words like "festoon," as in "It was festooned with Christmas tree ornaments." Try "betokens" next debate.
4. The Rude Pundit has finally figured out what the strongest pro-war lobby is: the bracelet-making industry. More dead soldiers means more bracelets, and they come in pro-war relative and anti-war relative models.
5. When Barack Obama smiles at an attack, McCain's people ought to be shitting themselves. It was after one of those smiles that Obama pronounced his list of "Stuff What Johnny Maverick Was Wrong About As Regards Iraq." It was the law professor seeing an opening in a student's presentation to go in and gut him teach him a lesson.
6. Conversely, McCain should never, never smile. It is a truly chilling sight, akin to seeing a gang of zombie dwarfs with knives coming at you when you are cornered in an alley. McCain attempting charm is like a child molester trying to offer makeup tips at toddler beauty pageants - it's wrong, and it should never be allowed to happen.
7. Conversely, what the fuck was with McCain's Popeye-like under his breath muttering? That was McCain's slight pressure valve release for, surely, Obama twice almost made McCain blow up like a blocked cannon. You could look at McCain and see that he was picturing some NVA guy taunting him after a beating and that McCain recalled all those fantasies of crawling surreptitiously out of his cage to slit his captor's throat and bathing in the arterial spray. When Obama and McCain went to town over what Henry Kissinger said, McCain almost hulked out. Well, actually, it was more like that Looney Tunes short where Elmer Fudd drinks some Jekyll/Hyde formula. (Actually, Elmer Fudd and Bugs Bunny's not a bad analogy.)
8. Would Obama please point out that John McCain is only mavericky when he agrees with Democrats? And that most of that maverick shit happened over a decade ago? Otherwise, he's just another Republican stooge lining up to happily suckle from Bush's nipples, even longer than most. Motherfucker's been nursing even though those teats went dry a couple of years ago.
9. While Obama didn't beat up an old man, even if few old men have ever deserved to have their hips splintered in public worse than John McCain, he outdid Kerry and Gore by simply refusing to take any shit from McCain. You can complain, and you should, that he said McCain was right too often. And there were so many times Obama could have called McCain a "liar" or have said something like, "You'd follow bin Laden to the gate of Hell, but not Pakistan? Man, Pakistan must be harsh." Still, overall, Obama was Obama, cool, unflappable, and dignified. A motherfucking President, in case you can't remember what that's like. And McCain was McCain, a crazed coot who doesn't know who the fuck he is anymore. The most annoying guy at the nursing home.
10. Oh, yeah. On substance? Whatever. They each said shit that was true, shit that was false, shit that was spin. They each made in-the-moment gaffes (although McCain's history of Pakistan was, to put it mildly, dumb). People don't remember that, though. Remember: America is stupid. We don't actually care what they say. We care how they say it. And, as the Rude Pundit said a long time ago when he said everyone should wait for the debates before they get all worried about Obama, America doesn't wanna listen to a raspy, s-whistling Methuselah in training for the next four to eight years.
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Fifth Anniversary Weekend Treats:
The Rude Pundit is celebrating five years of deep, thrusting bloggery this week, posting audio clips and answering questions from readers. And today's offerings give a taste of the yin and yang, the sturm und drang, the Abbott and Costello bifurcation and symbiosis that's kept this blog a-runnin' lo this half-decade:
Today's question is a simple, forthright, and honest one from rude reader JellyRoll M., who asks, "Would you do Sarah Palin?"
Oh, dearest JellyRoll, in theory, the Rude Pundit would do at least two, if not three, of the people running for high office. (No way on McCain, and Biden, only if in a long dry spell and he was all that was around.)
However, the voice is one of the most sexually-appealing attributes of a lover, from low, intoned murmurs to high-pitched but throaty moans to dirty talk of all sorts, and, frankly, however attractive a person she might be, the idea of hearing Sarah Palin say, "Oh, yeah, cum on my tits and rub it in with your dick" is enough to make the Rude Pundit prefer masturbating to an Ecuadoran website dedicated to porn featuring one-legged burn victims.
Now, on the other end of the taste spectrum, is another audio clip from this month's protest march at the RNC in St. Paul. In this one, the Rude Pundit speaks with the sister of a Marine recently returned from Iraq as she marches with her family:
You can subscribe to the Rude Pundit's podcast. And if you wanna donate money for the Fifth Anniversary Reader Shakedown Spectacular (which ends Monday), you can it on the side or down here:
The Rude Pundit is celebrating five years of deep, thrusting bloggery this week, posting audio clips and answering questions from readers. And today's offerings give a taste of the yin and yang, the sturm und drang, the Abbott and Costello bifurcation and symbiosis that's kept this blog a-runnin' lo this half-decade:
Today's question is a simple, forthright, and honest one from rude reader JellyRoll M., who asks, "Would you do Sarah Palin?"
Oh, dearest JellyRoll, in theory, the Rude Pundit would do at least two, if not three, of the people running for high office. (No way on McCain, and Biden, only if in a long dry spell and he was all that was around.)
However, the voice is one of the most sexually-appealing attributes of a lover, from low, intoned murmurs to high-pitched but throaty moans to dirty talk of all sorts, and, frankly, however attractive a person she might be, the idea of hearing Sarah Palin say, "Oh, yeah, cum on my tits and rub it in with your dick" is enough to make the Rude Pundit prefer masturbating to an Ecuadoran website dedicated to porn featuring one-legged burn victims.
Now, on the other end of the taste spectrum, is another audio clip from this month's protest march at the RNC in St. Paul. In this one, the Rude Pundit speaks with the sister of a Marine recently returned from Iraq as she marches with her family:
You can subscribe to the Rude Pundit's podcast. And if you wanna donate money for the Fifth Anniversary Reader Shakedown Spectacular (which ends Monday), you can it on the side or down here:
Friday, September 26, 2008
A Quick Observation on Tonight's Activity:
If Obama had nudged McCain just a little bit more, either on climate issues or on meeting with foreign leaders, McCain would have exploded like a beached World War II mine bumped by an old man with a metal detector.
More on the debate on Monday. Tomorrow, more fifth anniversary fun.
If Obama had nudged McCain just a little bit more, either on climate issues or on meeting with foreign leaders, McCain would have exploded like a beached World War II mine bumped by an old man with a metal detector.
More on the debate on Monday. Tomorrow, more fifth anniversary fun.
What Obama Should Say (Rude Version):
If at tonight's debate, Jim Lehrer asks Barack Obama, "How do you answer your critics who say you lack the experience necessary to be President?" and the Democratic candidate doesn't say, "Experience? Are you fucking kidding me, Jim? Let's get that out of the way real quick. The Crypt Keeper over there chose as a running mate a fucking idiot who couldn't find Pakistan on a map even if it had a giant cock-shaped neon arrow pointing at it saying, 'It's here, bitch.' A fucking moose-slaughtering tool who thinks that Russia gives a happy monkey fuck about Alaska. So let's just shove that thought aside. And as for experience, that dead Eisenhower-looking motherfucker's been around DC for three decades, and his party had no holds barred power for six of the last eight. Where did that get us? No, no, fuck that.
"Now lemme say somethin' here directly to Johnny Maverick. Your America failed. Your version of this country, where we go and fight bullshit wars and where rich people are gonna be all generous with their money and where businesses will take care of themselves, that shit failed. It's done, Johnny Maverick. And this fuckin' wreckage is owned by the Republican president and the Republican Congress, and that includes you, motherfucker. You still stink of this shit, and no matter how hard you try to run, those gimpy little legs can't get you far enough away so that you don't smell like Uncle Sam just took a dump on you. You own this. You think you can just put it aside like some out-of-wedlock baby and wait for the DNA test to make you pay child support? No, motherfucker. You broke it, you bought it, you gotta carry it around with you. Every time you got down on those broken knees in front of George W. Bush and was first in line to take his dick in your mouth, you owned another piece of it, and now that he's come, you wanna spit? Fuck you. Swallow that shit, bitch.
"Goddamn, it must suck to be you right now. I mean, look around you, Johnny Maverick. Look at what the fuck is happening. People are losing their houses, businesses are gonna shutter up, jobs are disappearing, Afghanistan is falling apart, Iraq's only being held together by duct tape and the American military, Pakistan is fuckin' shooting at our soldiers, and China's just waitin', man, waitin' to step up and say, 'Hey, Russia, wanna dance on the grave of the United States?' And why is this happening? Because of every fucking thing that you believe in, Johnny Maverick. Aw, shit. That's gotta hurt.
"So many fuckin' things that you were wrong about in your life, from asking to go into combat in Vietnam to wanting to play with the big boys by getting involved with Charles Keating to being Mr. Deregulation and Monsieur Laissez-Faire to jumping on the Bush train when it was speeding into Iraq to letting your campaign become just an extension of everything you once claimed you hated. It's all been wrong. The sum total of your vast experience is to demonstrate what not to do. The nation's gonna crumble, motherfucker, and all you have to offer is how many dicks you're gonna suck because you think you're the one to get us out of the mess you made. It's like a rapist asking the woman whose apartment he broke into and beat to near unconsciousness before fucking her in the ass if he can pick up some milk for her at the corner grocery.
"But you keep suckin' away, Johnny Maverick, showin' all that shiny fuckin' experience, as you take 'em all, the cock of the evangelical right, the cock of Karl Rove, the cocks of lobbyists lined up around the block. Yeah, no wonder your cheeks are so goddamn stretched out, from trying to fit two or three in there at the same time. Oh, I'm sorry, Jim, did I offend a war hero? Was I too uppity? Kiss my black ass," then the debate will be useless.
If at tonight's debate, Jim Lehrer asks Barack Obama, "How do you answer your critics who say you lack the experience necessary to be President?" and the Democratic candidate doesn't say, "Experience? Are you fucking kidding me, Jim? Let's get that out of the way real quick. The Crypt Keeper over there chose as a running mate a fucking idiot who couldn't find Pakistan on a map even if it had a giant cock-shaped neon arrow pointing at it saying, 'It's here, bitch.' A fucking moose-slaughtering tool who thinks that Russia gives a happy monkey fuck about Alaska. So let's just shove that thought aside. And as for experience, that dead Eisenhower-looking motherfucker's been around DC for three decades, and his party had no holds barred power for six of the last eight. Where did that get us? No, no, fuck that.
"Now lemme say somethin' here directly to Johnny Maverick. Your America failed. Your version of this country, where we go and fight bullshit wars and where rich people are gonna be all generous with their money and where businesses will take care of themselves, that shit failed. It's done, Johnny Maverick. And this fuckin' wreckage is owned by the Republican president and the Republican Congress, and that includes you, motherfucker. You still stink of this shit, and no matter how hard you try to run, those gimpy little legs can't get you far enough away so that you don't smell like Uncle Sam just took a dump on you. You own this. You think you can just put it aside like some out-of-wedlock baby and wait for the DNA test to make you pay child support? No, motherfucker. You broke it, you bought it, you gotta carry it around with you. Every time you got down on those broken knees in front of George W. Bush and was first in line to take his dick in your mouth, you owned another piece of it, and now that he's come, you wanna spit? Fuck you. Swallow that shit, bitch.
"Goddamn, it must suck to be you right now. I mean, look around you, Johnny Maverick. Look at what the fuck is happening. People are losing their houses, businesses are gonna shutter up, jobs are disappearing, Afghanistan is falling apart, Iraq's only being held together by duct tape and the American military, Pakistan is fuckin' shooting at our soldiers, and China's just waitin', man, waitin' to step up and say, 'Hey, Russia, wanna dance on the grave of the United States?' And why is this happening? Because of every fucking thing that you believe in, Johnny Maverick. Aw, shit. That's gotta hurt.
"So many fuckin' things that you were wrong about in your life, from asking to go into combat in Vietnam to wanting to play with the big boys by getting involved with Charles Keating to being Mr. Deregulation and Monsieur Laissez-Faire to jumping on the Bush train when it was speeding into Iraq to letting your campaign become just an extension of everything you once claimed you hated. It's all been wrong. The sum total of your vast experience is to demonstrate what not to do. The nation's gonna crumble, motherfucker, and all you have to offer is how many dicks you're gonna suck because you think you're the one to get us out of the mess you made. It's like a rapist asking the woman whose apartment he broke into and beat to near unconsciousness before fucking her in the ass if he can pick up some milk for her at the corner grocery.
"But you keep suckin' away, Johnny Maverick, showin' all that shiny fuckin' experience, as you take 'em all, the cock of the evangelical right, the cock of Karl Rove, the cocks of lobbyists lined up around the block. Yeah, no wonder your cheeks are so goddamn stretched out, from trying to fit two or three in there at the same time. Oh, I'm sorry, Jim, did I offend a war hero? Was I too uppity? Kiss my black ass," then the debate will be useless.
Fifth Anniversary Reader Shakedown Spectacular, Day 4:
Cash from France, from Japan, from Salt Lake City, from New Jersey has been pouring into the Rude Pundit's porkpie hat as it's passed around the crowd. No, people, this ain't no church. It's just a little slab o' concrete in the big city of Left Blogsylvania with a guy on a box and a megaphone. But right now - do you feel it? - it's like a cathedral of rudeness.
The Rude Pundit's celebrating five years of spreading the good word like a large-headed lesbian has to open up the legs of her lover. And he's raising money because, well, shit, there's software upgrades and research and vodka, really good shit from Poland, all of which the Rude Pundit uses to bring you your daily hit.
So give because it hurts so good, like the tenth or so slap on your bare ass. Click on the side or tap the fire down below:
The Rude Pundit's also answering your questions and posting lots of audio shit this week. If ya got a question, send it on to: rudepundit(at)yahoo(dot)com. Today's question and audio treat'll be up this afternoon.
Cash from France, from Japan, from Salt Lake City, from New Jersey has been pouring into the Rude Pundit's porkpie hat as it's passed around the crowd. No, people, this ain't no church. It's just a little slab o' concrete in the big city of Left Blogsylvania with a guy on a box and a megaphone. But right now - do you feel it? - it's like a cathedral of rudeness.
The Rude Pundit's celebrating five years of spreading the good word like a large-headed lesbian has to open up the legs of her lover. And he's raising money because, well, shit, there's software upgrades and research and vodka, really good shit from Poland, all of which the Rude Pundit uses to bring you your daily hit.
So give because it hurts so good, like the tenth or so slap on your bare ass. Click on the side or tap the fire down below:
The Rude Pundit's also answering your questions and posting lots of audio shit this week. If ya got a question, send it on to: rudepundit(at)yahoo(dot)com. Today's question and audio treat'll be up this afternoon.
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