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.

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.

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.

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:

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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:

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.

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.

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.

The Rude Pundit Answers Readers' Questions, Part 2:
As part of his Fifth Anniversary Reader Shakedown Spectacular, the Rude Pundit is not just soliciting for bucks. Oh, no. He's invited the readers to write in with questions, selecting one or two a day to answer.

Today, we have one from across one of those oceans that don't protect us any longer. Rude reader Robbie from jolly ol' England asks, "What do you think (if anything) of British politics/current political figures? I have a (morbid?) fascination with American politics, but I can't really find any enthusiasm for the politics of my home country so it would be interesting to see if you follow things on this side of the pond at all."

Well, Robbie, if Keeley Hazell counts as a political figure, then the Rude Pundit is keenly interested in the UK's affairs. Otherwise, like many Americans, he is only selfishly interested in what you think of us. Or, for instance, what perverse twist of brain chemicals and blackmail made Tony Blair and George W. Bush buddies.

But this myopic view of the internal workings of other nations does mean that the Rude Pundit has followed how the British press and government have handled things like the war(s), Gitmo, and torture. In other words, he wants to see how badly we've fucked up your country, too, so he knows just what to apologize for when he visits.

Note: You don't need to donate to ask the Rude Pundit questions. But if you wanna toss some cash into the hat, click on the side or right here, buddy:

Notes on the Crisis: A Few Observations Regarding These Frantic Days:
1. Watching President Bush last night, the Rude Pundit finally figured out what really happened this past week. Bush had the drawn, pale look of a man who either just found out he was sentenced to ten years in a Turkish prison or just ran out of toilet paper while having burning diarrhea or, you know, both (god, that'd suck so bad). Here's why: he gambled that this collapse of the investment banks would hold off until he was out of office. And he lost.

No, the Rude Pundit has no evidence to back that up. Except that the warning signs have been there for over a year and that they knew it was coming at some point because the plan the administration released had been in the works. But the original bailout proposal was a contingency plan. That's why it was such a bullshit document. The hope was that the Jenga pieces would tilt and teeter but stay up for another four months, and then, adios, motherfuckers, enjoy the new depression.

If one was conspiracy-minded, one could say it's the perfect Rovean way to fuck over what has long-expected to be a winning Democratic candidate for president. You wanna set up, say, Jeb for 2012? Make Obama into Hoover. Instead, like a teenaged boy stumbling to get his ex-babysitter's bra off, the whole thing blew up prematurely. And thus instead of getting to do the fucking, Bush is just sticky with his own spooge.

2. And John McCain took some of it in his left eye yesterday, apparently. The Republican candidate's bullshit statement about suspending his campaign has to be the final self-degradation for anyone who still had any thought that this was an honorable or capable person.

For, see, McCain's self-righteous insertion of himself into the bailout process that was well underway was just a way to shiv Obama. Here's how this played out: Obama, in one of those charmingly rational but ultimately naive ways of his, reached out to McCain in the hopes of doing something truly bipartisan (even if it was nonsense that it would be "above politics") and release a perfectly innocuous joint statement saying, well, nothing really, but, still, it was something to do. So McCain's people decided there's no way that cocksucker Obama is gonna look all presidential and shit, so they dicked Obama around and then sent out McCain, left eye sagging with Bush jizz residue, to say he's the one who's above it all and invited Obama to do what McCain did.

But if anything can be done in a stumblefuck bad way, it's McCain's campaign. By putting the debate on the line, they pushed it too far. What might have appeared honorable now just looks like a pussy way out of being kicked in the balls by Obama on Friday in Mississippi. Obama, to his credit, didn't take the bait, but, really, in his press conference, he should have spanked McCain's saggy butt hard. At this point, McCain is like some bloody-thighed heroin addict crawling around in shit and garbage because he can't find anyone to give his pathetic ass a fix, the kind of scabby bitch you wouldn't let blow you, but you might say, "Hey, eat this bug and I'll give you a buck," and that motherfucker'd do it.

And, you know, it would have helped if McCain had actually suspended his campaign. But other than giving McCain a day off and pulling some ads, you can still contribute to the campaign and Palin is still skipping around the nation, acting like she understands shit.

3. Regarding Palin, that chick's a goddamn idiot. Watching her interview with Katie Couric, the Rude Pundit wanted to say, "Katie, tell her not to go full retard." But, of course, Palin can't help it. It's hilarious, like when you see a particularly spastic spider monkey leaping between trees and then it hits a branch that breaks and plunges into a crocodile-filled lake. Oh, nature is a bitch, innit?

When Couric asked Palin whatever the fuck John McCain has ever done about the banking industry and Palin answered, "He's also known as the maverick though, taking shots from his own party, and certainly taking shots from the other party. Trying to get people to understand what he's been talking about - the need to reform government" and, when pressed for actual, you know, things, "I'll try to find you some and I'll bring them to you," that wasn't just jumping the shark. That was fuckin' jumping Jaws 1 to 4.

4. The thing missing from Bush's speech and from most discussion here is who to blame. Not, as the President said, "the irresponsible actions of some." Not "predatory lenders." No. Give us fucking names. Sometimes the villagers need to know which castle to burn down.

Fifth Anniversary Reader Shakedown Spectacular, Day 3:
Oh, sweet readers, the economy may be teetering on the edge of a cliff like Wile E. Coyote awaiting his puffy doom on the desert floor far below, but your generosity to the Rude Pundit is sky high. He's feelin' the love like a young stud who finds an old queen to take care of him. And don't worry. The Rude Pundit gives reacharounds.

This being the end of five years of rude punditry, this ancient blog is having a fundraiser, with money going to equipment, books, internet connectivity, and tequila, lots of tequila. Donations big and small have come in, but let's keep this party going until Monday, the real and actual date of rude origin. Give out of love and desire, and give out of hate and vengeance. Press that Paypal button on the side or right here:

The Rude Pundit is also taking questions from readers, some of which he'll answer this afternoon. And he's kicking the podcasting into gear.

So here's today's audio funspot: the Rude Pundit talks to New York Times writer David Carr about the first day of the RNC. It's a couple of weeks old at this point, but somehow, Carr's remarks have become true again:

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Briefly: The President's Message on the Economy:
Man, there's been bloody-nosed cokeheads reading cue cards on Saturday Night Live who were more reassuring than President Bush tonight.

Goddamnit, Eliot Spitzer, why'd you have to haggle with a hooker when your country needed you so badly?

The Rude Pundit Answers Your Questions:
As part of his Fifth Anniversary Reader Shakedown Spectacular, the Rude Pundit is answering reader questions. Today's comes from longtime rude reader Daphne C:

"Why are you apparently so fond of sexual metaphors/similes/analogies? Ithink they work wondrously but I'm not sure I know why I think that. Why do you think they're so apt to compare to politics?"

Dearest Daphne, you think they work wondrously because when the Rude Pundit uses such an analogy, it sweeps you away into an incredible world of concupiscent possibilities, where the fucking can simply be the delicate tease of a cock rubbed against a cunt before gently, but firmly plunging in. Or where a Tom of Finland-looking motherfucker will fist your ass while wearing a spiked leather wrist band. Either way.

They work so well for politics because so much of sex is about who has power, who has control, who is giving it, who is taking it. Sometimes it's a socialist democracy, sometimes it's a fascist dictatorship, sometimes it's just tyranny of the titties. Wait...what did you ask?

Photos That Make the Rude Pundit Want to Eat Caribou Eyeballs While Snorting Poppy Pollen:


There they are. Lambchop and Pinocchio, one with a hand shoved into her furry ass and the other who would fall to the ground in a heap if his strings were cut. Gams McGee and, apparently, Ben Kingsley only allowed 29 seconds of their meeting to be witnessed by a CNN producer. It was peep show politics - almost see some tit or pussy before the window shade comes down and you gotta pump more quarters into the machine.

Yeah, we all got quite the insight into how Republican vice presidential candidate Sarah Palin would deal with foreign policy. It seemingly involves getting felt up by Henry Kissinger, seeing if being VP means one can get quality blow for Todd and Bristol from Colombian President Alvaro Uribe, and sharing a delicious danish with the President of Afgh- well, at least Kabul, Hamid Karzai.

And what did Palin talk about with Karzai in order to impress the country with her understanding of the crises afflicting Afghanistan? Karzai's son and how his name means "The Light of the House," to which Palin exclaimed, "Oh, nice." The media, which was so cute because it pretended to revolt against the ludicrous limitations that the McCain campaign was placing on it as regards McCain and Palin, was then shuffled to somewhere else to bide their time while, one might assume, Palin and Karzai sat awkwardly for a few minutes until it seemed long enough for the governor of Alaska to claim to have absorbed some kind of knowledge from Karzai.

Really, all that happened yesterday was part of Palin's makeover into the McCain campaign's whore. You see, as every skeevy brothel owner in Bangkok will tell you, you gotta fuck the whore into the girls you sell. So McCain invited Kissinger, Uribe, and Karzai to pop that Palin-foreign leader cherry. So fuckin' sweet when you get to be the first on top of a virgin. Holy shit, Kissinger must have found her asshole tight (for, indeed, a Republican rite of passage is to get your anus firmly fingered by Nixon's war criminal Secretary of State) as he talked about the endless projection of power, at any cost. How Uribe must have called her wet snatch part of the Coalition of the Willing. How Karzai must have begged her to use her mouth make his impotent cock hard.

Yes, McCain was pleased, even as his incompetent stumblefuck staff almost ruined the day by getting all aggro with the media. It takes time and a lot of fucking before a prostitute is good and ready to take on all the johns in the press.

You might be able to actually pity Palin if she wasn't such a pitiless figure herself. She should have said, "No" to McCain like most rational people without any goddamn experience would have done. Men and women have to know their limitations. And those who pretend to have none are the ones who are doomed to failure.

Fifth Anniversary Reader Shakedown Spectacular, Day 2: Toss Some Change in the Hat:
Oh, people, people, don't crowd, there's plenty of room on the corner to hear that rude man tell everyone that it's all gloom and doom, motherfuckers, unless you take this world in your hands and mold that bastardly ball like it's Play-Doh and you're some kind of mad god with ADD.

It's been five years since the Rude Pundit rose out of the hinterlands of disempowered Idiot America to proclaim that the only way to take the country back is for rudeness to take its rightful place in the left wing. So, to celebrate, the Rude Pundit has put out the threadbare silk derby and asked for donations so he cna buy equipment, whiskey, and love, man, just love.

So far, people have contributed from Australia to Austin, in amounts surprisingly large and hearteningly small. Join the party by clicking on that Paypal link over there on the side, or right here:

And the Rude Pundit's taking your questions, about life, issues, the hotness of your favorite politician or media person, whatever. He'll start answering later today. You can send yours to "rudepundit(at)yahoo(dot)com".

Finally, this week, the Rude Pundit is featuring special tasty audio treats every day, part of the launch of the "where the fuck has it been?" podcasting he's been promising. Here's another clip from the Rude Pundit's March 29, 2008 show in Philadelphia. It's called "Naked World Leader House":

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Note: A snail mail address will be up this week for Paypal haters.

In Brief: Just Sayin'...:
You know, the Rude Pundit realizes there's only so many ways to describe a dire situation, but, really, and, c'mon, is it all not a variation on the same tune?

From the statement by President Bush on September 22, 2008 on the current economic crisis and the possible bailout: "Failure to act would have broad consequences far beyond Wall Street."

From Bush's speech explaining why he needed war authorization for Iraq, October 7, 2002: "Failure to act would embolden other tyrants, allow terrorists access to new weapons and new resources, and make blackmail a permanent feature of world events."

2008: "It would threaten small business owners and homeowners on Main Street."
2002: "He would be in a position to threaten America."

2008: "Americans are watching to see if Democrats and Republicans, the Congress and the White House, can come together to solve this problem with the urgency it warrants."
2002: "We have an urgent duty to prevent the worst from occurring."

It's all lessons from childhood: If you cry wolf often enough, you may just ignore it when that toothsome fucker is carrying away your infants and livestock. You say the sky is falling and it's not, then next time there better be clouds around your ass.

Five Years of Rude Punditry: Toss Some Money into the Top Hat in Front of the Soap Box:
Jesus fuckin' Christ. Some days it's hard to be the crazy guy ranting on the corner that the world's a-gonna end.

Look over at that long ass list of archive dates over there. This week marks the end of five years of bloggery on this street corner. That's like 300 or so years in human terms. The Rude Pundit is slowly transforming this postage stamp of pavement into a multimedia atoll of rudeness, with the addition of video shit and with (at long last) Rude Pundit podcasts underway. He has other ideas (including a special feature starting this week), so he's doing one of his once or twice a year fundraising pushes.

Call this the Fifth Anniversary Reader Shakedown Spectacular. Or maybe a bailout. It's a little way to give some love. And it'll be a self-esteem boost, like getting it on with that 18 year-old who works at the front desk, if you think you're buying the Rude Pundit a beer or a fancy new MP3 recorder with two mikes instead of one (that's on the wish list).

Click on that Paypal thing over on the side there. Or right here:

This'll roll until next Monday, the start of the sixth year of fucking with the right.

And, it being a fifth anniversary, which is, you know, the one where you get wood, let's open this fucker up for questions, too. What do you want to know? Ask the Rude Pundit. He'll post the best queries with answers over the next week. You know the address: rudepundit(at)yahoo(dot)com (goddamn spambots).

And, hey, there'll be treats too. Like this one: it's from the RNC protest a couple of weeks ago, where the Rude Pundit met the Missile Dick Chicks.

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The Bailout Con Game:
The Rude Pundit is not going to pretend he knows the ins and outs of the economics behind the Wall Street apocalypse. But he does know crooks, clowns, and con artists, and this fucked-up bailout is rank with all three. It's a fuckin' grift. It's a goddamn fixed poker game where the buy-in is $700 billion, but the mob guys runnin' the table think you're stupid enough to hock everything to keep playing.

Why is the Rude Pundit so sure? The easy answer is because the Bush administration is jonesing for it like a broke junkie trying to convince his dealer to let him have one more fix. But, shit, why just say that when five minutes of research proves the point. From a press conference, July 27, 2007, when Tony Snow, currently starring in Hell in the hit show, Hey, Demons With Spur-Tipped Dicks, Let's Rape Tony Snow, was being questioned about the United States teetering on an economic bubble blowing up like a fart in a bathtub:

"Tony, there are chain-reaction effects to what's happening on the sub-prime market. We've got some of the biggest companies, like Bear Stearns and others, that are really facing a potential blowout. And these are firms that are too big to fail, as they used to say. And if something happens in that -- now people are talking about a credit crunch, talking about blowout in the markets -- as a chain reaction of the inflation, the loans in the housing markets can affect the entire system. Now, the President didn't cause that problem, but it's going to be on his plate, and it's going to be on his plate soon. And I'm sure there's some discussions going on with regard to that. And the question is, what is he prepared to do -- there are some things he can do."

In other words, "Financial Institution Collapses Determined to Strike in U.S." It's shit that was out there. That many, many were predicting. And the administration preached sunshine and rainbows. They fucking knew, just like they knew that Saddam Hussein had no WMDs.

Answered Snow, "It is important to realize that the President does believe in fiscal responsibility. He also believes in trying to keep the economy growing, so that people will have options and will have income streams and will have strong futures, and furthermore, that you've got a Treasury team that continues to look at these and many more issues to try to maintain the strength of the American economy. And despite the sort of cataclysmic scenario you've just laid out, we've just gotten a report that indicates that there's, in fact, extraordinary strength in the American economy." You lie so grossly when you know you're lying.

Remember the way a con works: you have to convince people that there's something they not only need, but that they need right now, something that if they miss out on, it will wreck their lives. You can only get this deal now. If you don't do it, you'll regret it. The world will fucking fall apart unless you pony up. It's the same whether you're callin' Granny for her savings or the American people for their Treasury.

When you tell a con artist to slow down for a minute so you can think, the grifter will just up the intensity. You gotta be willing to walk away from the deal. If Democrats don't look Henry Paulson and George W. Bush in the eye and say, "Go fuck yourselves" to the deal in its current form, we will be fucked by this for a generation. As William Greider puts it in The Nation, "Government can apply killer leverage to the financial players: accept our objectives and follow our instructions or you are left on your own--cut off from government lending spigots and ineligible for any direct assistance. If they decline to cooperate, the money guys are stuck with their own mess." But that's not what the Bush administration wants.

No, right there in Section 8 of the proposed bailout legislation is the fiduciary nut kick of a power grab: "Decisions by the Secretary pursuant to the authority of this Act are non-reviewable and committed to agency discretion, and may not be reviewed by any court of law or any administrative agency." So the White House wants its Secretary to have total power over the funds, however much that ends up being. In other words, the White House wants to take the power of the purse away from Congress in this matter and center it in the executive branch.

How is this different from the other power grabs the administration has accomplished? At what point is this legislation, if passed in its current form, manipulated and legalesed into absurd over-reaches, like the Patriot Act or the authorization for the use of force against al-Qaeda?

No, bullshit. Fuck this. Something needs to be done, yes, but there needs to be hell to pay from the financial sector in the form of regulation. Wall Street should be littered with the corpses of financial "advisors" and executives leaping out of buildings to their deaths. But, alas, we no longer live in such honorable times.

The only good that can come from the whole situation is that this marks the gruesome death of economic Reaganism. Let's celebrate the end of that ideology by digging up his bones and tossing them into a volcano outside Paulson's office.

Weekend Multimedia Fun, Part 2: Iraq-Enactors:
In another video from Shoot the Messenger, a stage show from Daily Show creator and former Air America host Lizz Winstead, we see how some choose to celebrate the Iraq war:


Wake Up World is the mock morning news show for the mock news network 24/7. For other videos, including some where the Rude Pundit contributed, check out the show's website.

And on September 29, the show will feature a live onstage interview with Bill Moyers. On October 6, Sarah Silverman.

Weekend Multimedia Fun, Part 1: The Wall Street Journal's John Fund Is Not Gay:
Below is the long-promised video of the Yes Men's Mike Stark confronting WSJ stooge John Fund at the "Defending the American Dream" conference in Austin back in July. The Rude Pundit told Fund and Stark he'd post it unedited, thus it is below in all it's crappily-filmed glory.

All the Rude Pundit will say is that, yes, as the person filming, he should have realized that the camera's mike alone would suck for sound (hence the helpfully-provided transcript by Stark). Let's add that because of the sound, the Rude Pundit did not realize that Stark was trying to get Fund to admit that he had gay sex with Grover Norquist. Stark was on a mission, and the Rude Pundit was there to record it, even if it ended up fucking up the Rude Pundit's mission. (Oh, yeah, and he was distracted by this hot chick walking by. You'll see.)

And should you get upset at Stark's O'Reilly-like tactics, remember: Fund's a dick, and he could have just walked away and didn't:

Why Does Conservative Spoogebucket Kevin McCullough Want His Father to Fuck Him? (With Two Unrelated Notes Below):
Here's a little touch of schadenfreude for the end of an unbelievably awful week. The Rude Pundit has had his, let's say, difficulties with conservative bag of douche Kevin McCullough. The columnist, radio host, and leader of the Musclehead Revolution writes more about latent gay male desire masked as belief in "God" and machismo than any other of the legion of latently gay males in the evangelical right. He viciously attacks women who support women's rights. He degrades liberal males with such smiting violence that you can tell: this is a guy who wants some cock. No, no. This is a guy who wants lots of cock. Wait, wait. No, this is a guy who wants to bathe himself in a cock shower of jizz.

In his latest book, The Kind of Man Every Man Should Be, McCullough addresses the dudes in the house, explaining how God wants men to act masculine and showing how. The problems? Why, feminism, gays, and liberals. And atheists. Castrating fuckers, all.

In an effort to reach out to his readers, McCullough shares a bit about his life, how his real father left his mother when he was two. How his mother remarried a man who he loved and who prayed with him when McCullough decided he was a sinner and needed him some Jesus. How his mother died of breast cancer when he was 15. None of this is terribly funny. And then...

Around about page 64, McCullough describes his adoptive father's decline into a morass of sin after the death of his mother. How he spent time with friends who were "actively engaged in homosexual behavior" (which must mean arguing over which live Judy Garland performance is best), how his father's "sensitivity" was exploited by these friends: "that tenderness became a weakness by which immoral behavior was seeded, planted, and watered."

(It should be noted here that the Rude Pundit is not making up any of these quotes or stories.)

Then his father called to inform McCullough that he was gay. McCullough, showing Christ-like compassion, tells us, "Nothing I could say would change his mind. Nothing God had already said counted. His mind had been deceived, and his heart was now hardened." You know what happened next: prayer, motherfuckers, lots of it. But apparently, even God can't overcome the desire for tight jeans, leather chaps, and a willing ass: "Dad's choice to live in immorality eventually led to an unholy sexual union with another man." Oh, Kevin, there were certainly some holes involved.

Being a man who believes in Jesus, forgiveness, and all that shit, do you think McCullough forgave his stepfather his sins? Nope. McCullough called up Dad and tried to convince him to give up the gay. When Dad said, "No" (or, the Rude Pundit would like to think, "Are you fucking insane? I just finally let myself be who I really am, and now I'm supposed to lie because you have a cross shoved so far up your ass that Christ's nailed feet are tickling your uvula?"), McCullough says he told his father he loved him, would be there for any reconciliation, but, and he actually admits he told his father this, "I reminded him that the apostle Paul instructs us to cut off fellowship with those who choose to live willfully immoral lives."

Then, protesting way, way too much, McCullough follows this tale of his father's descent into the well of the homosexual with this take on temptation: "I'm a red-blooded man who appreciates beautiful women and the joyous, near-rapturelike pleasure of sex as much as anyone else does."

And the Rude Pundit simply says about all his allegations regarding McCullough: "Case fuckin' closed."

A Couple of Unrelated Notes Regarding Markets and Palin:
Markets: Umm, can someone please tell us all again about the wonders of unregulated, free market capitalism? And how we're not a socialist nation? Somewhere, the owner of a restaurant who invested too much in the decor and not enough on the chef is wondering where the hell her bailout is. Somewhere, an uninsured man with diabetes is wondering how much that universal health care would cost.

Palin: Truly, the second half of Sarah Palin's interview with Sean Hannity is so gut-wrenchingly nauseating that you wonder if it's possible to vomit up organs and if that would be such a bad thing. The finest moment? No, not when she says she thought, when her son was about to leave for Iraq, "[Y]ou know, I'm like, man, thank God for this voluntary military that we have with America's finest." No, not when Hannity gives her another pass at the Bush Doctrine question and she still doesn't say what it is. Not any of the other lies perpetuated and mooseshit tossed. It was when she pointed to her belly and said she told her staff, "I said, you see this? You think this is just baby fat, right, from having Trig four months ago. No, it's some thick skin in there also."

Which led to the amazingly wonderful New York Daily News headline, "Sarah Palin shows off her thick hide in Fox News interview."

Hannity Goes Down on Palin:
Fox "news" host Sean Hannity knew he had quite the task in front of him when he first gazed at Republican vice presidential candidate Sarah Palin's snatch. Not that there was anything unusual about the actual genitalia itself - everything seemed to be in its right place - but it was the length of time he had challenged himself to give head to the Alaska governor. During the course of an interview that would last a pair of nights on his show, he would have to bring out all the tricks he had, walking that delicate line between keeping her satisfied and getting her to come too soon. But if any man was up to the task, why, Sean Hannity was that man.

Hannity had worked out his manly jaw and tiny tongue in the days leading up to the interview, gnawing on the bones of his co-host, doing smaller cunnilingual actions on Lynne Cheney and Karen Hughes, but those were mere warm-ups. He felt ready, even with his obvious disadvantage of lacking lips, even if he needed to be a bit more spitty for lubrication with Cheney.

Led into the room in Cleveland, he was offered a pillow, which he spurned. No, he needed nothing to keep him energized and comfortable. Palin seemed to leer as she lifted her skirt, she might have even winked, although it was hard to tell if that was just a twitch from her natural sneer of contempt. Hannity kneeled down in front of her. Palin said, "You better be good at this, or I'm bringing O'Reilly in here." The dark-haired personality-less personality assured her that he would be good. Then he told the producer to make sure the mikes were hot and start rolling.

Hannity parted the self-proclaimed hockey mom's legs a bit more and started ever so slowly, tenderly, even, using his tongue to get a feel for these labia, for this clit. He asked, in reference to her snap decision to accept John McCain's offer, "Was there time to huddle and have a hockey team meeting?"

Hannity sucked a little on her clit's hood so that he didn't even notice when she lied, "It was a time of asking the girls to vote on it, anyway. And they voted unanimously, yes. Didn't bother asking my son because, you know, he's going to be off doing his thing anyway, so he wouldn't be so impacted by, at least, the campaign period here." Yes, yes, Palin thought, this one knows how, this one has some skill, not like that Gibson who glanced at her cooter and gave it an unenthusiastic finger or two.

Pulling his tongue across her taint, ever so teasingly hitting the rim of her anus and moving back, Hannity began to get a feel for the ex-mayor's clit, a bit bigger than many, but not as monstrously huge as he had been told. Moving it up and down, asking about the meltdown on Wall Street, rotating it a bit, which made her get a bit defensive about John McCain saying "the fundamentals of the economy are sound," he got the moan he was looking for with an X-shaped motion, which was when he asked, "Is Senator Obama then using what happened on Wall Street this week? Is he using it for political gain? Is there a danger of a presidential candidate is saying to the world that America's situation of economic crisis is the worst that we've seen in decades — which was words that he was using yesterday — is there a danger in terms of the world hearing that?"

Palin, sucking her cheeks in, adjusting her ass ever so slightly, leaning in to Hannity's skilled tongue (although, truth be told, she did miss lips on her lips), her talking points flowed out of her like juice from a ripe plum: "Well, there is a danger in allowing some obsessive partisanship to get into the issue that we're talking about today. And that's something that John McCain too, his track record, proving that he can work both sides of the aisle, he can surpass the partisanship that must surpassed to deal with an issue like this."

God, god, empty, empty, such obviously empty rhetoric, and Hannity didn't care, didn't ask follow-ups, it was, in a word, amazing, Palin thought. This bastard just wants to give my pussy even more of ride than First Dude does.

Hannity, for his part, knew he had to be careful. He couldn't let her come early, however excited she seemed, however engorged she became. He nipped her clit to indicate a calming moment as he probed deeper and deeper into her, hands on her ass cheeks, just massaging now, not grabbing. "How do you make this happen? Look how partisan it is in Washington right now. How do you get that accomplished?" he asked, referring to government reform and the supposedly non-partisan way John McCain had in his career.

Sucking her pinkie and wanting Hannity to go back to working her clit, maybe using his nubby fingers on her, she said, "John McCain tapped me to be a team of mavericks, of independents coming in there without the allegiances to that cronyism, to that good ole' boy system." On the word "maverick," she bucked like riding a bull, and Hannity obligingly started to finger fuck her while kissing and biting at her thighs.

On and on it went. Hannity keeping his pace fast and then slow, asking her about giving money back to the citizens of Alaska (with which they could have, you know, paid for a bridge to anywhere in their state without bugging the federal government), through to what she supposedly accomplished in Alaska to what her duties as vice president might be. "Yes," Palin cried, again and again, letting Hannity know that each move he made was the one she needed, the one that kept her on script.

The closest she came to exploding in screaming orgasm was when Hannity started asking her about drilling in ANWR. Really, who wouldn't? All that talk about boring into just a small patch on an entire body as Hannity practically lifted her off the seat, nearly growling as his own animal desire was taking over, index finger in her asshole, tongue practically wrapped around her pulsating clit. But, no, no, not yet, there was still more to go, another whole night to fill.

Hannity brought it back to energy independence, and, hair tousled, chest heaving, Palin responded, "We sort of have a 'do nothing Senate' right now where nobody's wanting to really pick up the ball and run with it and take the steps that we have to take to become more energy independent. And it's going to take a whole change in leadership in order to really crush that gridlock and get going on this."

Sean Hannity didn't even see the irony in a Republican talking about "a whole change in leadership." There was Palin pussy to eat. Virginal to Fox "news." He just hoped that at the end, she'd let him jack off on her glasses. But even if she didn't, it'd be okay. He was a man with a job to do, and he knew how to do it well. Indeed, if ever a man was made for oral deference to a Republican, it was Hannity.

John McCain: The Town Hall Stalker (Updated):
Let us say, and why not, that you're a guy, a gay one and single, living in DC, and you go to a party at a friend's place in Dupont Circle. It's a fun, low-key gathering, mixed crowd, but lots of people worth talking about. Someone points out to you the kind of creepy-looking dude who has a lot of people hanging around him. Says he's a good guy, nice to talk to, will treat you right, maybe you oughta talk to him. So you, being open-minded, head over to his corner, introduce yourself, and, while he seems harmless enough, there's no click and, well, truly, he's kind of creepy, a cross between a molesting priest and a partner-beater.

You want out of the conversation, and as you make excuses for heading to the bar, creepy-but-seemingly-harmless guy - hell, let's give him a name, like "Sean" - says you two should go out sometime. Wanting to get back to the others, and maybe, in a friendly sense, half-meaning it, you say, "Sure, let's do that." You see where this is going, no? You, dear, kind gay guy, have set off a chain of events that'll leave you curled up in a corner and wishing that the whole city would just disappear into the slime-covered swamp it's built on.

Creepy Sean starts calling you, asking you when you're gonna go out. After being nice about it, putting him off, hoping he'll get the idea, like most normal people would, you let voicemail get him. And then you just block his number, thinking that will be that. But then you hear that Creepy Sean has been bad mouthing you, telling others how you don't keep your promises. Then he takes it further, making shit up about you, saying you've got herpes, maybe even HIV, saying you like to fuck young teenage boys unprotected so you can infect them, saying how you stabbed in the back the last guy you had a relationship with and robbed his mom. Your friends, they know Creepy Sean's a fucking asshole. But people who don't know you? They start to eyeball you at clubs and restaurants, wondering if you are the monster Creepy Sean describes.

Finally, you see Creepy Sean on the street. You walk up to him and confront him. What the fuck? Creepy Sean just looks at you placidly, taking you in up and down, and says, "Hey, if you'd have gone out with me, none of this would have happened."

John McCain and his lackeys keep bringing up the idea that Barack Obama should tour with McCain on a series of town hall meetings, and that it is Obama's refusal to do so that has made the campaigns go negative. McCain brought it up Monday on Morning Joe on MSNBC, saying to Morning Mika while accusing her of being Obama's bitch, "I still say to you, and I know you're a supporter of Senator Obama, if you would urge him -- if you would urge him to come and do town hall meetings with me as I've asked him to do time after time, the whole tenor of the campaign would change." Rudy "My Relevance Is Back Where It Should Have Always Been" Giuliani said on Meet the Press regarding negative ads, "I think the main reason for that is that Senator Obama has refused to debate in these town hall meetings every week with Senator McCain."

At a speech Monday in Orlando, McCain was downright pathetic in begging Obama to town hall it with him: "I have urged Senator Obama on time after time after time, why don't you come down here with me, why don't you come with me and we'll both do town hall meetings together and we'll pick whatever audience that anybody can take. And let's do the town hall meetings. A lot of the people don't like the tenor of this campaign and a lot of the back and forth. I guarantee you, I know that if you stand on the same stage with your opponent and you hear from the American people and the American people hear from you, a lot of that negative stuff disappears. So the next time you run into one of your Democrat friends, would you say, look, why don't you urge Senator Obama. We've got a long time to go...So why don't we do that, Senator Obama? Why don't we stand together on the stage around this country. I'll even pay for the airplane. And I promise not to fly it, but I'll pay for it."

Christ, McCain sounds like a cheap coke whore wandering a bar looking for one more cock to suck so she can afford some rock.

So what the McCain campaign is saying is that they'd stop the negative ads if Obama would give in to McCain's demands. And that it's Obama's fault because he won't say yes. Well, that's very Republican, isn't it? Blaming the victim? Luckily, Obama's not playing. He gave in to the stalking that Bill O'Reilly did for an interview, and that got him nowhere.

Here's the thing: if you finally give in to Creepy Sean and go on that date, Creepy Sean won't want it to stop at that. Because Creepy Sean will have figured out how to get to you, and pretty soon he'll be demanding your ass on satin sheets. The solution? Well, you can talk smack about Creepy Sean, get his friends to abandon him, throw parties where he's not invited. But that takes time. Sometimes you gotta give in to that id, man, and kick Creepy Sean's ass so hard his buttocks become earmuffs.

Update: Nothing actually new. The Rude Pundit just noticed something else in that John McCain quote from his Orlando speech. How he promises not to fly the plane. Is that a tee-hee-I've-crashed-so-many-times-I-oughta-be-tortured-for-it joke?

Photos That Make the Rude Pundit Want to Down a Jug of Akpeteshie While Smoking Hash:


That's George W. Bush, the only president we've got, apparently in his role as Scar in a production of The Lion King that was done at the White House last night. The occasion? President John Kufuor of Ghana was visiting. And there's nothing a foreigner likes more than a bastardized and Westernized version of his own culture, complete with songs by Elton John. Look at that strained, patronizing smile on Kufuor's face.

One imagines that the state dinner featured white missionaries getting boiled in a giant pot while palm-frond-skirted, coal-darkened black people danced around, going "Booga-booga." Followed, of course, by Bush riding in to enslave the natives and sell them at an auction in the Rose Garden. Dick Cheney bought a half dozen and no one dared tell him it was supposed to be fake. They're picking his cotton today. Oh, a splendid time for all.

Banks collapsing? War still going? The Gulf coast once again ravaged and rotting in the sun? Circle of life, motherfuckers, circle of life.

A Brief Proposition: Attacking Sarah Palin Is Not a Sexist Act (Featuring Gratuitous Use of the Word "Bitch"):
Let's tread into some dangerous waters here, shall we?

On his HBO show last week, Bill Maher attacked Wall Street Journal spoogebag John Fund for defending Sarah Palin's idiotic answers during her interview with Charlie Gibson. Maher said that Fund and others like him were cynics because they believe they can put one over on the stupid people and take advantage of their stupidity. Fund, that goddamn smirk smeared across his face, kept telling Maher and the other guests criticizing Palin, "Keep it coming," because, in his world, criticizing Palin gets her (and, to a lesser extent, McCain) votes.

But let's take it just a bit further. Choosing Sarah Palin as a running mate was not just a cynical political move by the McCain campaign; no, it was a repugnantly sexist move. "What the fuck?" you may ask. "How can it be sexist? She's a chick and that means by definition it's not sexist." And the Rude Pundit would say: "Read on."

You can bet that somewhere, in some office in DC or elsewhere, while trying to figure out which non-Lieberman to pick for VP, some Republican operative said something like, "Hey, get a load of this crazy bitch. Seriously, this Alaska bitch is the looniest bitch we could find, the kind of bitch who'll fuck the whole football team and then say she's still got time for the lacrosse guys to run a train on her and then find Jesus a week later. Motherfuckers at Obama Central won't know what to do with this bitch. The awesome thing about our bitch is the way we can say we love all the bitches. And we'll trick bitches into actually voting for this bitch." That may not be verbatim, but it's probably pretty fuckin' close.

The sexist act is in believing that a large number of women in this country are so stupid and beaten down by the nation's innate sexism that they'll vote for a woman, no matter who she is or what she believes, as long as she seems "like them." It's sexist because if Sarah Palin had a penis (and, frankly, with all the lies coming from the McCain camp, even that's up for discussion) we'd only be talking about her if we lived in Alaska or were getting upset about her Mussolini-like way of leading her state.

(And don't bring up Hillary Clinton. The comparison fails in nearly every way.)

What's sexist is that Palin is being used because of her sex. There are plenty of men McCain could have chosen to shore up the base, most of whom would have sucked it up and voted for him anyways as long as he didn't go all Jewy and pro-choice. Palin is nothing more than the eye candy a con artist uses to distract the marks while he robs them blind. So it's not sexist to go after the woman who will set things back for women in horrific ways. The bottom line is that there's a responsibility to take her down, incumbent upon the media, to proclaim that she's not only a garden variety Republican hypocrite, but a barely educated ideologue who wants to reign with an idiot's understanding of the world.

Palin exists as a candidate to offer another narrative in order to take the focus off Obama as insurgent. As a cyncial political move, as the Rude Pundit's said, it's rather brilliant. And it shows a depth of powermongering in John McCain that'd make Attila the Hun go, "Whoa, there, old man, that's a bit too far." Because even barbarians know that you don't do shit that'll come back and bite you in the ass. Palin is Frankenstein's monster in a JC Penney executive skirt. Obama has to stop trying to reclaim the old narrative and create a new one.

We've begun to hear the refrain that Sarah Palin is someone women (and men) want to have a beer with, the kind of shit we heard with Bush. But you know what? At the end of the night, whoever the Rude Pundit has had a beer with, he'd rather the designated driver take him home.

Late Post Today:
Back in a bit with why it's not sexist to attack Sarah Palin.

Weekend Multimedia Fun, Part 2: Sarah Silverman on How You Can Support the War(s):
From Shoot the Messenger, Lizz Winstead's new stage show, featuring the mock morning newser Wake Up World (and with the Rude Pundit as one of the many writers, although not on this piece):



Check out the other videos from the show. The Rude Pundit'll post a few more. And, hey, spread this one around, like a cold or some...virus, yeah, that's right.

If you're in NYC, Silverman will be a guest on the show on October 6. And Bill Moyers on September 29. No, really.

Weekend Multimedia Fun: Tom Morello of Rage Against the Machine in Minneapolis:
On September 2, at the Parkway Theatre in Minneapolis, Morello explains what happened when the police tried to stop Rage Against the Machine from playing for protesters.

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(Yeah, yeah, the Rude Pundit's still figuring out the spacing issues. Oh, and this is also available at http://rudepundit.podbean.com/, and soon at iTunes.)