Eat a Turkey For Jesus, Contribute Advice To the Democrats:
The Rude Pundit is taking the weekend off. He craves the triptophan. He wants to sleep gently in a triptophan-induced coma and wake up in a world where there's no Rumsfelding, no Bush, no nothing, but sweet, sweet opiates like triptophan. And, well, Vicodin. Back on Monday. Meanwhile, read below to try to help the wayward children of the Democratic party.


Advice To the Democrats From the Rude Pundit:

If you’re in a street fight and you are playing by the Marquis of Queensbury rules, you shouldn’t be surprised if your opponent kicks you in the nuts and then beats the shit out of you while you’re down on the ground, punching you in the throat, gouging your eyes, smacking you with everything that he can get his hands on, really just all the shit that goes on when you’re in a fight. In short, if you’re gonna bother fighting, fight to win, to be the one who walks away. The guy on the ground is only fit to be pissed and spit on by the gathered crowd.

See, Republicans understand this. They know that you don’t bring a knife to a gun fight. They understood this when they went after Bill Clinton. They threw everything they possibly could at him, ignoring problems like, say, terrorism, in their blood lust to not only destroy Clinton's presidency, not only to bring virtually every cabinet office to a grinding halt, but to change the discourse about Clinton: he's the guy who got an Oval Office hummer, not the guy who, for good or ill, led the country into years of prosperity and job growth, and myriad other accomplishments. You've got to remember that for every James Carville on the Democrats' side, the Republicans have ten Lee Atwaters or Karl Roves.

And now the Republicans are continuing these vicious alley fight tactics. Witness the House of Representatives vote on Medicare "reform." The Democrats believed that the Republicans would abide by tradition, like the Queensbury rule that says, "The rounds [are] to be of three minutes duration and one minute time between rounds," and that the majority would give the traditional 17 minutes or so for a vote. Nope. Instead, the evil Tom DeLay, the corpulent Dennis Hastert, and others conspired to leave the voting open until the Republicans had enough votes to win, twisting arms, threatening wives, sending goons out to place guns at the heads of the baby daughters of Republican reps who would not toe the party line. The Democrats were incensed. How dare the rules be so stretched? How dare tradition be set aside? But that's the wrong thinking. That's the kind of thinking that gets you shanked in the ribs. And that's what's happened, as the Senate passed the Medicare "reform" bill today. There you go. Now the President can campaign on a lame ass prescription drug benefit, bringing out the still breathing corpses of elderly people who got extra thorazine to parade in front of the cameras. Bill Frist may as well have been standing over the curled-into-a-fetal-position still warm corpse of Tom Daschle, wiping his shiv on his pants and cackling madly as he disappered into the White House.

The advice to Democrats is this: the rules are that there are no rules. When you have a President and opposition party that is willing to destroy people like Max Cleland, willing to question your patriotism because you think the war in Iraq is a bad idea, willing to degrade you and lie about you and use proxies to do their dirty work, you are not dealing with an opponent who will give a rat's ass if you say that he is breaking the rules. You have an opponent who will say that your opposition to Medicare "reform" means you want to dump seniors in an alley and watch them slowly die, who says that your opposition to the energy bill, loaded with pork for energy corporations, will lead to a long, cold, dark winter, who says that your opposition to the war means that you want Saddam Hussein to come to this country and rape your children while you sit with a ball gag and beaten and bruised face to watch the maiming and slaughter of them. They will stop at nothing to demonize you, Democrats, and they will smile at you and call you friend even as they slice off your nuts.

It's time to not question all the hate against Republicans that's going around. Embrace that anger. Channel it into a real opposition. Republicans will suckle at the teat of Richard Mellon Scaife-funded foundations until they are engorged to bursting with filthy fascist lucre, but they bleat like castrated lambs when George Soros donates money to MoveOn.org. You'll want to talk about the economy and they'll say you want gay marriage so who cares what your economic policies are. So you can't win. Instead, degrade them. Make them seem like the corporate lackeys and hate mongers that they are.

You want a commercial? Here it is, free of charge, from the Rude Pundit: Circus-like music plays as we see scenes of George W. Bush landing on that aircraft carrier. Then a graphic: "Number of WMDs found in Iraq: 0." Show W. in front of the "Mission Accomplished" Banner. Graphic: "Number of Americans killed in Iraq since George W. Bush landed here: X" (with X=to whatever the number is). Show W. on the deck of the ship, in his flight suit, looking all goofy and shit. Graphic: "Cost of playing soldier: Priceless." Then whoever for President. Run the ad so many times that no matter what, when the electorate sees Bush, all it thinks about is him in that goddamn flight suit, with circus music behind him.

So to all viable candidates, Dean, Clark, Gephardt, Edwards, Kerry: fuck the Republicans up. Badly. And if anyone tells you to play nice, to abide by the rules of conflict, you kick them in the nuts and tell them to go fuck themselves. You have the backing of many, like Paul Krugman here.

And, because so much is at stake, the Rude Pundit is opening this up. If you have any other rude advice for Democrats, send it to rudepundit@yahoo.com. The rudest and best will be posted. If you're all lame, he won't post anything but himself.


Why Ann Coulter Is Still a Cunt, Part 6:
Because at the end of her recent "column" (and that would be assuming a lot, since an editorial column is, right or wrong, usually a well-reasoned, rational attempt at some kind of point of view, not simply the mad rantings of someone who, by all rights, should be getting sodomized regularly by the underpaid orderlies at a mental ward) Coulter calls for violence against the Democrats. Yep, that's right kids. This is after a long, fart-filled shit of a column where she reduces every Democratic candidate for President to his or her grotesque caricature, including a section we'll just call "Fun With Jews."

In this part, Coulter cites the ways that several candidates assert Jewish street cred: "There's Joe Lieberman: Always Jewish. Wesley Clark: Found Out His Father Was Jewish in College. John Kerry: Jewish Since He Began Presidential Fund-Raising. Howard Dean: Married to a Jew. Al Sharpton: Circumcised." Now, leaving out the obvious question of why skinny white Ann Coulter is thinking about the shape of Al Sharpton's black cock, one has to ask if she (or any conservative columnist, for that matter) would ever make a list of Republicans and cite how they scramble to out-Christian each other to the point where you think they wanna take the nails out of Jesus and lick his wounds. One might want to ask that, but, then again, one would have to be dealing with a sane person, not a woman who is so batshit out of her mind and full of said batshit that she lumps Israel-loving Lieberman in with those who want "to disguise the fact that the Democrats would allow the state of Israel to perish as Palestinian suicide bombers slaughter Jewish women and children." 'Cause, you know, you always want Ann Coulter on your side to give your movement credibility.

Which brings us to the last line that this odious whore writes: "If the Democrats start extolling you – get a gun." The assumption here, of course, is that it's okay to kill Democrats (which is just logical in Coulterworld, since Treason was the title of her last "book," and it's a crime punishable by death in America). So, like, if someone, say, like, drags Coulter by her blonde roots out into an alley and puts three bullets in the back of her skull, that'd be just jim-fucking-dandy and hunky-goddamn-dory by the parameters she has set. And while blood soaks her designer clothes, the gunperson can just look at Coulter and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, was that whole killing thing a joke?"


Brief Sequel to the Dancing Monkey:
The Rude Pundit is taking the weekend off. He once again needs to purge his mind of images of George Bush throwing his own shit at the Queen, Orrin Hatch ejaculating on Patrick Leahy, Leni Riefenstahl in hell, and lynch mobs. He will return on Monday once his anger at the Republicans in the House over the end run passage of the Medicare bill dies down to something akin to a simmering rage. For now, enjoy one last story about Mr. Monkey President dancing his way merrily through England.


Dance, Mister Monkey President, Dance:
There he was, our fearless leader, George W. Bush, visiting England, the first official state visit by an American president since, like Woodrow Wilson. Yep, there he was, all decked out in tails, standing next to the Queen, looking like nothing so much as a monkey next to the hurdy-gurdy man. And there he was again, giving a speech on the "war" on terror and foreign policy, saying such funny monkey things, like "The people have given us the duty to defend them, and that duty sometimes requires the violent restraint of violent men." Then he repeated his tossing of his own shit at the rest of Europe by saying that the U.N. was "choosing its own irrelevance" by not following him in his charming little dance for political peanuts in Iraq. Of course, monkeys always go too far. They end up jacking off in public or drinking their own pee. So when Bush declared that European countries "should withdraw all favor and support from any Palestinian ruler who fails his people and betrays his cause, " he was sadly, predictably, met with silence, crickets, nothing.

Then, of course, you put a monkey at a press conference, and he's gonna do something to embarass you, like Bush did when standing next to Tony Blair, the President stated that he was willing to send more troops into Iraq if necessary. In a wonderful "D'oh" moment, the White House was forced to correct the impression that more troops might be sent by saying that no more troops would be sent. Oh, funny monkeys and the funny things they do when you let them off the little leash. Like Bush visiting the families of the British war dead when he hasn't visited any American families of war dead. Like demonstrating to the British public just what a little bitch Tony Blair is by not giving any quarter on the British citizens being held at Guantanamo. Do you think he understood a word of what he was talking about, Bush? Or was it like the mad jabbers of a tiny monkey, screeching in your ear?

Of course, all of this is mighty tough talk from a man who was kept in a hermetically-sealed bubble, without a sense of noblesse oblige towards any of the protests, including the one yesterday involving over 100,000 people. Nope. The President is a turn tail and run pussy, as his AWOL status showed so long ago. As the vast numbers of security around him that prevented him from every having to dirty his view with protesters showed. A bubble of ignorance, arrogance, denial.

Goddamn, the ghost of Republican colonizer Teddy Roosevelt must want to shove a large stick up Bush's ass. At least Roosevelt had the balls to fight for his raping of the world. Jesus, even former president, now book end, Ronald Reagan, had the guts to go out in public after he had been fucking shot. Not our Bush, though. Anything to keep him in the dark. Anything to assure us he continues to lead us and Great Britain into the darkness of the 21st century. No self-respecting zoo should have such a pathetic species of vermin-ridden monkey on display.


Because Nothing Matters as Much as Michael Jackson's Penis:
Let's be clear: in the larger scheme of things, whether Michael Jackson fucked a child, a monkey, or Latoya does not matter. It doesn't matter to you unless you are that child, monkey, or Jackson or someone emotionally or economically linked to the "molested" or to said self-destructed "entertainer." Even if Michael Jackson loves to have his dick massaged by a twelve year-old who calls him the "King of Cock," it doesn't matter. It is a distraction. And the media will make sure it distracts you. As Anderson Cooper pointed out, in a rare moment of ironic self-awareness, on his CNN show 360 Degrees last night (scroll down to the end):

"Today's announcement of charges against one of the most successful, famous and infamous entertainers in the world could affect TV news even more than the O.J. Simpson trial did. The coverage and journalistic resources involved will be simply staggering. Already producers across the nation are clearing their slates. Network bookers are desperately seeking anyone who ever knew Michael Jackson, begging Uri Geller and Bubbles the Chimp to please call them back.

"So before it's too late, we wanted to take just a quick moment to say goodbye to some of the stories that, as far as the media are concerned, have breathed their last. So, so long coverage of lingering questions about regulatory oversight of the nation's securities industries. We'll miss you. Goodbye, in-depth scrutiny of the future of Medicare. Farewell debate over the new military and its role in a changing world. We hardly knew you."

Then, and the Rude Pundit is not shitting you, Cooper took a bagged 40 and poured it out on the set, like a curb, and said, " This is for you, and all the other homies we lost today. We'll be with you again some day, on the other side."

Now, this is begging the question as to whether or not any of those things would have been covered in any depth, along with the issues on a scrolling list behind Cooper (including "Campaign 2004"), but the point was made: clear your guest rosters - it's time for all-Michael, all the time - until the next Kobe hearing, and, well, the Peterson trial.

(Of course, history has a way of insisting on being heard, even among the din of Michael, Kobe, Scott, Paris, et al, when more bombs went off in Turkey. Goddamnit, some producer must have said, don't terrorists understand the arc of the news cycle?)

Tomorrow: Bush puts on a suit and monkey dances for the Queen of England. Stay tuned.


We'll Have Gay Old Time:
Goddamn, what a jubilee of jouisance must have been going on in the White House last night. What a hoedown of hate. And, in the absence of the prude-in-chief, Karl Rove must have allowed the staff to raid the locked liquor cabinets. What a fucking day yesterday was for the Republicans. Nothing this good has happened for them since September 11, 2001. Not only did they work out a deal on the prescription drug bill, but the Massachusetts Supreme Court said that the state could not deny the civil right of marriage to gay couples. Man, when that decision came down, there must have been quite the game of joyous grab-ass between Scott McLellan and Rove. Christ, they thought they were going to have to go into the election year talking about war and the economy, but not anymore. Because the Republican party is going to gamble that the only things Americans hate more than war casualties and job losses are fags.

See, you're going to hear the term "wedge issue" from the media a lot over the next few months. For one thing, this is shorthand for "We're too fucking lame to actually explain to you complex issues like the prescription drug bill, the mutual fund scandals, the move to 'democracy' in Iraq, and the like, and it's a lot easier to ook you out with images of gay people holding hands in front of priests and it's a helluva lot more fun to have people on the air spewing hate against fags, 'cause we know that fags freak you out, makin' you all giggly, uncomfortable and filled with hidden desire." Yep, the hate's started already. Check it out here. And here. And here. But what wedge issue really means is that Republicans are going to use the threat of gays marrying to turn the debate away from the things that really matter and toward issues of "morality" that have little to do with the day-to-day life of the average American. Get it? They're gonna "wedge" it up our asses whether we care or not.

Let's posit that Average American. Let's make it a man. Let's say Joe USA earns the average income, about 30-40 grand, has a wife, two kids. Tax breaks don't matter worth a good long shit to him. A break on health insurance might. Joe USA is constantly at risk at his lower middle-class wage job of being laid off, so he kowtows, works lots of extra hours, which might be cut because he's an assistant supervisor, and that can be re-categorized as management and lose overtime, according to proposed Bush administration rules. His environment sucks, his kids probably have a high risk for asthma, his wife is exhausted from working a minimum wage job to add a little extra income. What might matter to Joe? A raise in the minimum wage, national health insurance, cleaner air and water, job security in a strong economy, a strong union, and on and on. In other words, things that Democrats stand for. But Republicans know this, and they're going to appeal to Joe's much-abused "Christian" values. Sure, Joe likes to relax by getting drunk, watching porn with his buddies, fantasizing about the stripper at the club near work. "But, fuck those fags," he thinks because he's been bldugeoned with a Bible into thinking so, "they're weakening marriage which weakens America. Fuck the fact that decaying schools, lack of health care, mistreatment of immigrants, and increasing poverty is actually what undermines our 'society.' We hate fags, and we won't vote for anyone who likes the fags. That faglover can't fight the war on terror." That's what Bush and his buds are counting on.

In fact, the President issued a statement from London saying that the Massachusetts decision "violates" the "principle" that a marriage should be between a man and woman. While the Rude Pundit thinks "Violate the Principle" sounds like a good high school motto, certainly there's more important things for the President and the country to be worried about.

Meanwhile, somewhere in a closet, in a backroom of the Senate Chambers, Orrin Hatch sobbed in happiness, thinking that someday his barely repressed lust for Patrick Leahy will come to fruition, how the tension over judicial nominees was just sublimated gay desire. Oh, how Orrin jacked off in Mormon masturbatory glee, thinking, soon, oh, soon, my bald-headed nemesis across the aisle will be mine, and Hatch came as he thought about pulling his cock out of Leahy's bright white ass and shooting his load across the Vermont Democrat's hairy back. Then Hatch wiped himself on Arlen Specter's coat sleeve, zipped up his pants, thanked Jesus and Brigham Young for his still virile seed, and left the closet to go hate some more.


A Whore Is a Whore - It's Just a Question of Price:
The annals of media whoredom are dank with examples of hypocrisy. See the zeal with which our "free" press destroyed the candidacy of Al Gore while giving obvious amateur George Bush a pass. The most recent example of this constant parade of hypocrisy is the to-do over CNN's Rock the Vote Democratic debate. It seems that, in an attempt to demonstrate how hip CNN is, or, in other words, how disgustingly low it can slime itself in order to pander to some goddamn audience that isn't watching Fox "News," CNN created a much-quoted question from the debate: "PC or Mac?" Now, obviously the correct answer to that is: Who the fuck cares, you fucking geek, get a fucking life, and you could see that that's what Carol Moseley Braun was thinking. But, see, the student questioner actually wanted to ask about how the candidates would promote technology in their fantasy administrations. And she went public with CNN's manipulation. CNN fessed-up the fuck up, and you'd think, "Well, that's done. Hell, the President said his last two press conferences were scripted."

But, no, Fox "News" analyst, Fred Barnes, on the strangely queer porn named show The Beltway Boys, was apoplectic about CNN's scripting moment. And, fine, all's fair when the whores are scratching each other's eyes out on the street corner. Except for the fact that Fox wasn't playing fair. Prior to the 40-hour Senate windbagathon over stalled judicial nominees, a Republican Party apparatchik understandably believed Fox "News" was in the party's back pocket. Elizabeth Keys sent a memo to an aide to Senate Majority Leader, Republican cat dissector Bill Frist, essentially asking for the Republicans in the Senate to choreograph their entrance to the debate to coincide with the beginning of the evening "news" program with pockmark-ridden whore Brit Hume. The march didn't happen, but where did Keys get the idea, and, really, c'mon, what's worse? The planting of a single innocuous and vacuous question in a debate or the expectation that a political party will bend to your mediated whims?

In the end, this is a question of which whore would you rather fuck? The whore with the slightest remaining bit of self-respect who won't do double penetration or scat sex? Or the diseased, scabby whore who'll let you do anything to her, for cheap? Which "news" network is which in this analogy? Oh, fuck, does it matter?

Down in Hell, the pitchfork-sodomized soul of Leni Riefenstahl is a-smiling. ("Adolf, baby, could you get the storm troopers to scootch a bit to your right at the rally? It'll make the frame perfect.")
A History Lesson For Conservatives:
Zell Miller, long gone insane Democrat by choice only, former governor of Georgia, and currently a soon-to-be retired Senator from that state, has compared the Democrats' opposition to conservative African-American female judicial nominee Janice Rogers Brown to "lynching." To be precise, he said that Democrats are essentially telling Brown, "Gal, you will be lynched" if she pursues her Rove-chosen nomination (for maximum divisiveness, no doubt) to a U.S. Appeals Court. Conservative columnist Thomas Sowell (sorry not to use the well-worn "Uncle" there) trotted out his blackness for all to see when he said of Brown's opponents "A Lynch Mob Gathers." Sowell, never one to be concise when demonstrating obsequiousness to his white masters, takes three columns to defend Brown.

Okay, gang. The Rude Pundit is only going to say this once. This is a lynching which, conveniently, took place right near where the President has his "ranch":
"His name was Jesse Washington, a 17-year-old black youth who was born in rural Texas in 1897. He worked on a farm outside Waco which belonged to George and Lucy Fryer. In May, 1916, Washington was convicted in City Court of murdering Lucy Fryer. During the proceedings, he apologized and confessed to the crime. At the end of the trial, Washington was sentenced to death by hanging. Residents, however, were already in an uproar over the crime. A black man who attacked a white woman in any way whatsoever during that era in the South evoked little sympathy from the public. Within five minutes of the sentencing, dozens of court spectators jumped the railing, fought with officials and seized the terrified defendant. He was immediately set upon by a vicious gang using clubs, shovels and bricks. He was stripped naked and dragged kicking and screaming to the lawn directly in front of City Hall. Townspeople had already built a giant bonfire underneath a large tree. The crowd was later estimated to be as large as 15,000 people. Included in the cheering multitude was the Police Chief and the Mayor of Waco. Other police officers also stood by during the sickening ordeal which played out in the symbolic shadow of City Hall. Washington was immersed in coal oil, hoisted up onto the tree and slowly lowered into the fire. Some of the spectators cut off fingers and toes from the corpse as souvenirs. His remains were dumped into a burlap bag and hung from a pole while many in the crowd cheered." Check out the photos and other graphic details here.

Now, whiny pussy ass conservative blathering Bush bitch whores aside, with Janice Rogers Brown, who believes that the New Deal was the triumph of "socialist revolution" in the United States and sees government as destroying communities and families and believes that the elderly "cannibalize their grandchildren" , we have the possible denial of a lifetime judicial appointment. Man, that really seems like small change compared to being immersed in coal oil and burned to death. Or is integrity in the judiciary and the protection of civil rights like a rope around the neck of the conservative movement in this country?


Of Daisy Chains and Economic Conferences: A daisy chain is a beautiful thing - it's just a geometrical shape of bodies all fucking each other. A perfect daisy chain is closed: everyone is fucking and getting fucked. But most gorgeous is the true daisy chain, as known by sorority girls across the nation. See, unlike the male circle jerk, where a bunch of Abercrombie and Fitch-model lookin' jack asses stand around and masturbate, not touching each other, 'cause, you know, that'd be gay, a daisy chain has no such pretensions of purity. The real, true, wonderful daisy chain is a woven, symmetrical, alive creation, where one woman is on her back, legs open, splayed vagina ready for the moist, giving lips and tongue of another woman, on her stomach, her own ass and labia on the face of a third woman, whose splayed vagina . . . and on and around with however many women happen to be there, forming a rhombus, hexagon, or the high-degree of difficulty dodecahedron (an even number is ideal, or someone's gettin' a nose full of ass), until the first woman has a mouth on a pussy. There you have it. An ideal machine, full of awe-inspiring odors and squishy-love sounds, moans and grunts. You can throw in vibrators, toys, ben-wah balls, what have you, but ultimately the heaving fuck circle is devoted to getting pleasure while giving pleasure, everyone pleasing each other. So it is that President Bush has convened a grand conference of economists, CEOs, and small business owners for two-days of, well, conferring about how to "secure" "our" economic "future." They'll be dealing with such weighty items with open-minded titles and listings like "Tax and Regulatory Burdens," "The High Cost of Lawsuit Abuse," and "the need for spending discipline," with participants ranging from the President to his cabinet to Mike Carter, owner of Monroe Rubber and Gasket of Monroe, Louisiana. Mike'll be attending the session on lawsuit abuse, one of the two that Bush will attend, because, see, he's being sued for using asbestos in gaskets prior to 1986, and, well, shit, the big companies are bankrupt and can't be sued. He'll be joined by Hilda Bankston, who blames the Phen-Fen lawsuits for the loss of both her husband and their Fayette, Mississippi drugstore. These are tragic or potentially tragic tales of large lawsuits gone awry. (Although, the Bankstons were cleared of any liability and the government investigated whether or not the case was abusively prosecuted.) Hilda Bankston, in fact, has become a kind of poster child for tort reform for small businesses. And, surely, with Philip K. Howard, author of The Collapse of the Common Good: How America's Lawsuit Culture Undermines Our Freedom, and George Priest, a Yale economist and American Enterprise Institute member who opposed all campaign finance reform and found the Supreme Court's Bush v. Gore decision unremarkable, small business owners will hear a smorgasbord of options, from limiting punitive damages to limiting actual damages. That's the point, innit? All this pretense of "study" and the imprimatur of academic reasoning? You get a panel together with Tim Penny, a Cato Institute member who co-wrote the December 10 editorial, "This Plan To Reform Social Security Makes Sense" (Penny, a former Democratic Representative, is a real whore for the Bush chowder because he used to be a big damn supporter of balanced budgets) and James E. Glassman of JP Morgan Chase, a cheerleader for the "economic recovery" and said back in 2003 that the Bush administration is "not at all" responsible for the state of the economy when it was so clearly in the toilet. And then, since everyone involved is just going to daisy chain it up, eating each other out by agreeing with one another, you release what all these smart people say and make it seem as if there's been a real discussion. Damn, if people like Sandy Jaques of the unfindable organization "Women for a Sound Social Security Choice" support it, it must be good. All you have to do is ignore all the screaming coming from economists that there is no "problem" with Social Security. Ignore bipartisan proposals, like the 2003 tort reform move by Senator Dianne Feinstein, so moved by Hilda's tale of heart attacks and woe, where Feinstein (and Orrin Hatch, among others) put forth the idea that large class action suits ought to be moved to federal court. (Hilda was blindsided because of "forum shopping" by attorneys looking for a plaintiff-friendly state.) Just set up the conference with the implicit understanding that all the problems listed exist, and fuck dissent, as usual. Fuck the exchange of ideas. That'd fuck up the daisy chain, man, and nobody'd be gettin' off. Back in the sorority houses, there's often regret after the daisy chain is over. Sure, some of the girls are proud, devilish, secretive. But others, oh, they'll say they were drunk or high, they didn't know what they were doing. Back-peddling, back peddling. Feeling guilty for all the happy fucking. On the other end of the spectrum, the Rude Pundit heard a tale about a male who once got to stand in the middle of an octagon of daisy chaining females. He stood there proudly looking around, just masturbating away, ejaculating three, four times, shooting his spunk on the women, who just went right on fucking each other. Remember that when Bush gives his closing remarks tomorrow.


Taking a Mulligan:
It's the weekend, and the Rude Pundit is going to drink himself into a sweet, sweet, blissful dream of peace, free of images of Bill O'Reilly fucking Paris Hilton, George Bush fucking weasels, Donald Rumsfeld masturbating while thinking about an injured Jessica Lynch, and the like. He'll return Monday, fresh, ready to be consumed by the bile that is American politics. Meanwhile, for your viewing "pleasure," check out these pictures of O'Reilly selling his "book" in New York City. From the first picture that looks like a tombstone for the "book," to the photo of his fans actually pretending to read it, to the one of O'Reilly showing how large a stick he has shoved up his ass, it's nothing but fun from beginning to end.


Weekly Reason Bill O'Reilly Should Be Sodomized With a Microphone - Number 5:
Here's O'Reilly on his Fox "news" show this week, talking about the Paris Hilton sex video: The Factor has obtained that video, but we're not going to show it to you because of taste issues. These stills will give you an idea of what is on the tape. So let's put aside for a moment the image of Bill O'Reilly breaking out the hand lotion in his office, calling out to his producer to hit the remote because he's too busy massaging his balls with one lubed-up hand and fellating a Ronald Reagan doll, playing the tape and watching that 19 year-old piece of rich trash ass getting fucked three ways to Sunday by a 30 year-old. Put aside that image. Don't embellish it with the obvious layer of class resentment that runs through O'Reilly's work - don't think of him smacking his cock on his desk, yelling, "Yeah, take that, you dye-blonde cunt. Daddy can't buy you out of this one, can he?" Don't think about that.

O'Reilly used the tape as an example of internet privacy violations and the way in which things can be quickly spread on the web. But, and here's the deal, in condemning the video and violation of privacy, he showed the fucking stills and he made sure all of his viewers knew they could download the goddamn thing. So, to really state the obvious, he whored himself to the latest gossip scandal for ratings and participated in its continuation as a story.

The final straw: as all things O'Reilly go, he brought it back to himself. Late in the interview with a security expert, O'Reilly talks about "parody" sites that say things like "Kill O'Reilly" (or, perhaps, sodomize him). Ah, how small the world is when you are its axis and all revolves around you.

Of course, O'Reilly's always willing to beat a dead horse until it splits in two and the gooey insides come out. Tonight, Friday, on his show, Paris Hilton gets brought up again, in the context of Bill Clinton and Hugh Grant, "famous for their X-rated exploits." Man, it's good to be the standard bearer of good taste in this country. No sin at all on you. No sin at all.
George Bush Fucks Weasels:
What a skeevy weasel fucker George Bush and his cronies are. What hubris, arrogance, assholishness they diplay on an almost daily basis. See, everything they do is designed so they can say, "We did this" even if the "this" is nothing more than a nod in the direction that something exists. Take the Clear Skies Initiative, which guts pollution regulation. But notice they can say, "We know there's pollution" without doing a goddamned thing about it and, in fact, making it worse. So it goes, so it goes.

The same kind of bullshit is at work in the White House's "agreement" to allow only a few members of the 9/11 commission access to the President's Daily Briefing only after it's been extensively edited. So, in other words, nobody's learning jackshit about the classified material the president has summarized for him each day (and which he no doubt scans and says, "Dick, just give me the gyst of it"). But they're crafty fuckers, the White House spin machine. Scott McClellan can stand in front of reporters and repeat, "The White House is cooperating with the commission, but it will not do anything that threatens national security." And then he can say it over and over until the "media" finally know they have nothing except that spin.

Take the trip to London. At first, the White House storm troopers were trying to intimidate the Brits into limiting protest to places where Bush would never actually see a protester, but the police chief of London said, in essence, fuck you, we'll do what we want, go fuck yourselves, Yanks. And now we hear that Bush welcomes the protests, saying it won't rattle his Christ-addled, Xanax-filled brain. Bring 'em on, indeed.

It's all about the story, baby. Whether it's limiting access to the media in covering funerals of soldiers at Arlington or pretending that a Democratic filibuster on three or four radical judges is a breakdown in democracy, the story is controlled to the point that we who watch no longer have a sense of dissent, no longer believe that there's any story except the one we're force-fed constantly. After a while, someone will find a smoking gun, a corpse, and Bush's fingerprints, but all we'll think is, "It was for the good of the country. This America that we used to live in."
From Rude Two: Federal Employees Are People, Too, Until They Go To War:
"You not only have a former Guardsman in the White House, you have a friend," President Bush declared during a 2001 visit to an Air National Guard base, according to a report on ArmyTimes.com. The former "Guardsman" (the AWOL coward/fortunate son variety; check out his note getting asking to be excused from duty four months after he stopped showing up to fulfill his commitment to the country) and the rest of the Republican War Machine refuse to compensate the otherwise federally employed reserve soldiers for time and income lost while serving in Iraq.
An estimated 23,000 people won't be receiving regular paychecks from their normal jobs because they were called to active duty in the name of the Bush family fortune. That's $80 million in withheld funds that will instead go to "rebuilding Iraq," or whatever the fuck is going on over there that continues to look more and more like fucking Vietnam, except with fewer reasons and somehow, miraculously, more homeland support (for now).

The message here is clear: You are serving us now, bitch. Stop questioning your government and get in the goddamned bread line with the rest of your ilk.

But let's be fair to President Bush and Dick Cheney and house negro Condi Rice. Let's not forget Donald Rumsfeld, who encouraged and applauded private employers for providing the very same benefits and provisions the United States won't cough up. The truthful message Bush should send to all soldiers is simple: "Fellas, if you're too fucking stupid to get out of active duty and/or obtain untaxed money from the private sector while working for the government, you're
sure as shit not getting any from me. Now, go forth and bring me the tender flesh of an Iraqi child, dipped in warm, delicious crude oil."

Meanwhile, the Great Oil Jihad of 2003 shows no signs of ending, regardless of the fact that it's been over for months. The silver lining in all of this is that it's just one more goddamned nail in the coffin of the huge, lumbering Republican bullshit machine. Somebody get a hammer.


President Bush Wouldn't Know a Veteran If One Spit in His Face:
What a sad, strange little man our President is. Did you see him on Veteran's Day, at the National Cemetery in Arlington, hand on his heart, people in uniform all around him, looking for all the world like a third grader about to giggle when he says, "Invisible" instead of "Indivisible" during the Pledge of Allegiance? What do you think he's thinking about in that moment? Is it a slight bit of shame to be surrounded by honest-to-god veterans who faced bombs, bullets, and tanks so that his granddaddy could get richer? Or is it his speech that he's about to do, where he lies bald-faced about the sacrifices in Iraq being for a greater cause than enriching Dick Cheney and his cronies? Or do you think he's thinking about last night's pie and wondering if there's any left in the White House fridge or did those damn El Salvadoran cooks throw it out?

It's really pathetic, watching him. It's depressing and soul-sapping. He won't face protesters. He won't answer questions. Every action he takes contradicts every word he speaks, especially when it comes to soldiers and veterans; if this was a playground, we'd have forced him to the ground and made him eat dirt by now. Instead, he speaks before the convservative lapdogs at the Heritage Foundation, a group of fascists so eager to blow the President that they wrestle each other nude, covered in Alaskan oil, for the privilege of a presidential tea-bagging. And there he spouts more gloom and doom, violence mixed with lies - about the number of "foreigners" fighting in Iraq, about the influence of Al-Qaeda. So much hate and cowboy bullshit that the corpses of MacArthur and Patton must want to crawl out of the grave and tear Bush's yummy heart and tiny brain into bits and drag his heaving soul back to hell with them.

But this is an ironic world, and, as the President was speaking, Iraq continued its horrific descent into chaos, with bombs going off right after Bush spoke. And the CIA, eager to fuck up Cheney's shit, has declared that the situation in Iraq is going to deteriorate, what with the roughly 50,000 insurgents fighting against the "coalition."

So we get to stare at this demi-man who asserts himself as America's leader, the kind of man who would watch a group of frat guys run a train on a fucked-up, frightened pre-pubescent girl and call it a beautiful thing and dare anyone to call it a gang rape. We get to watch the sad, sad spectacle of this man attempting to be a great thinker, calling for democracy in the Middle East without offering a plan to lead it there, a campaign commercial masking as policy, all hat, like No Child Left Behind, like Clean Skies.

And now, finally, the endgame of Iraq for the Bush Administration, with today the White House declaring that they ought to accelerate self-rule in Iraq as if they just came up with the notion, as if it was the plan all along. So what we're gonna get is a faux election, one that can coincide with the 2004 Presidential race, so we can see images of Iraqis voting.

But we've seen his face, this President, our leader, ex-coke head, ex-drunk driver, born again Christian, parent to girls gone wild, a fucking idiot, a monkey in a suit. And we know that he's masking fear, like he's gonna get caught jacking off in the Oval Office, all turned on by the Washington Monument, America's erection. He's afraid. He's running for his life. Not like soldiers in Iraq or the Vietnam that he so assiduously lied about and dodged, but like every scared child realizing that he's done something horribly wrong. Oh, the spanking that's coming.


God, Jessica Lynch Is Such a Stupid Bitch:
What a stupid bitch, this Jessica Lynch. She could have been America's sweetheart, invited to Disney World, leading parades, hosting Saturday Night Live, selling dental hygeine products to people in her home state of West Virginia. It was simple: here's Lynch, cute, white, blonde, with that cute hick accent, and she looks just adorable in that military uniform, like she's from Colin Powell's favorite porn film, Cracker in Khaki. And then she went to Iraq, got herself injured and captured in an ambush, and then "rescued" by American troops. Christ, what a great fucking story. Hell, when we first heard about it, it was like John Wayne or Rambo, except without the dick, with Jessica shooting until her clip ran out - you wouldn't have been surprised to hear that when she ran out of ammo, she leapt at her Iraqi attackers and started chewing their jugulars until they bled to death. We heard she might have been tortured by her captors, shot, stabbed, forced into sexual slavery. Anything to make us hate those bastard Iraqis. And then came the Pentagon-filmed rescue from the hospital, with the terrified look in those teary doe eyes of Jessica, the eerie night photography that made it all look so dangerous. Goddamn, the Rude Pundit gets hard just thinking of how great America is because Jessica went down fighting and our boys in uniform stormed the doorways of the emergency room to save that wonderful, hot American girl.

Except, as we've learned since then, it didn't quite go down like that. Nope, as we now know, all of that is pretty much bullshit, propaganda, or, as we who live on earth like to call it, lies. Turns out, Jessica not only didn't go down fighting - she didn't fire a single shot. Turns out her Iraqi captors saved her life and kept her safe. Turns out that the Iraqi doctors tried to turn her over to the military, but were fired at. Turns out there was no resistance at all and the whole rescue was stage managed to look more dangerous than it was. Turns out that Jessica's story was not extraordinary in the annals of war. Turns out that the Pentagon needed a happy tale to tell and the media was all too compliant.

But we're a cynical country. And we knew that Jessica would cash in, as in the million dollar advance on her book. However, we thought she'd play. See, we so needed Jessica to play the hero. If she had said that she was sold to a desert sheik who made her dance nude for his pleasure and broke her bones whenever she disobeyed and she escaped by stabbing the sheik while in the throes of sex and stumbled back to the hospital where she prayed to Jesus every night, we'd have believed her. Oh, sure, the book throws war fetishists a bone: conveniently, when she was unconscious, it seems American doctors believe she was raped. Oh, Goddamn, that's good. It's like every fantasy of white slavery. All Arabs want is some white poontang, right? Some godless heathens to fuck in the way they could never fuck their burqa-wrapped babes. Yeah, Donald Rumsfeld must be desperately trying to jack off in a closet at the Pentagon thinking about a lifeless, prostrate Lynch, sweet ass available for all to violate. And then break her bones.

Though this is about how Jessica is a stupid cunt. Because she decided not to play the Bush Adminstration's game. She decided to actually be the all-American girl that everyone wanted her to be, and part of that is to tell the truth. And the truth is this: Jessica doesn't like how her story has been manipulated to support the war effort. See, Jessica, while whoring herself for interviews about her book, let it be known that she is not G.I. Jane, that lies don't save lives. And that's why she's so fucking stupid. Man, if she had just shut the fuck up and let the right wing, militaristic propaganda machine transform her into uber-soldier-babe, Karl Rove, Roger Ailes, and Richard Scaife would have made sure that she had the wealth of, well, the sheiks to comfort her every time she saw her own frightened face on a magazine or book or video cover. Shit, Jessica took the wrong pill.

Of course, nothing is easy, not happy endings in this world. Her book is not burning up the charts. The jabbering conservative media will start to feed on her corpse soon. It's inevitable. In one of those wonderful coincidences that gets the conspiracy nuts into a froth, Lynch's brother has been called up for service in Iraq. Maybe a sequel? And, in the wonderfully weird world, it seems Jessica liked to show her titties off to the boys, and Larry Flynt bought the photos, but has decided not to publish them since he believes Lynch has been exploited enough. In fact, Flynt claims that he bought the pics to prevent their publication. Ain't that something? How fucked up does the world have to be where Larry Flynt ends up being the only one with self-respect.


An Election Is Just an Excuse To Screw People Over:
Now, the Rude Pundit is no conspiracy buff. He doesn't give a shit who shot Kennedy, he doesn't care whether or not the House of Windsor is the rightful heir to the throne, he believes Area 51 and Roswell are boring places in the middle of a goddamn desert, and, frankly, he thinks that anyone who wastes time debating this nonsense, like whether Illuminati or the Masons or some satanic intertwining of the two, along with the Jews, runs the world, oughta do something more useful with his or her life, like obsess on J. Lo and Ben or Prince Charles' cock and where it might have been.

But something weird and creepy is going on with the shift to computer voting in the United States. Since the hanging, dangling, and flaccid chad debacle, many areas of the country are shifting to computer-based voting systems, including touch-screen machines. That's not news. And, yeah, it's freaky weird when the head of Diebold, the company selling voting machines around the country, and in Ohio, declares that he is "committed to helping Ohio deliver its electoral votes to the president next year." And it's vaguely suspicious that so many Republicans, in particular, oppose paper verification of votes. Still more disturbing is the fact that, really, the programming and its code are constantly shown to be faulty and open to hacking.

Let's be clear here: after the cluster fuck of the last Presidential election, a couple of percent of faulty machines could screw the pooch to soreness.

Then we've got the first cases of fuck-ups: There's this from Indianapolis, where, in a county of 19,000 registered voters, the computer data showed 144,000 votes cast. Hell, in Virginia, Republicans are challenging results from the touch-screen voting machines in Fairfax County.

And it's that last one that's so tantalizing. Here's the Rude Pundit's conspiracy:
We know that Republicans are big, whiny pussies who will manipulate, lie, and steal in order to win elections or get their way. Look at California. Look at Max Cleland in Georgia. We know from Joe Conason, Al Franken, and others that had George W. Bush lost the electoral college and won the popular vote (as many thought would happen) that his machine of right-wing nuts would have shut down the country until Bush was declared the winner. So, fast forward to a year from now: if Bush loses, the lack of action now on the malfunctioning machines and code will lead to Republican protests that the computers failed and that the election should be invalidated because of this. And, remember, there's no paper trail.

Sound far-fetched? One hopes. But otherwise, we're in for another long slog through the continuing twilight of democracy.


The Devil Is a Vicious Bastard, and He's Coming for Republican Souls, Oh, So Yummy:
The Rude Pundit knows the Devil. Not your red-tailed, pitchfork holdin', horn headed one that fundamentalists and children believe in. The real Devil, the one who shows up when you've been fucking around in ways that only the Devil ought to be. Oh, the Rude Pundit has met the Devil on a number of occasions, and he knows that the Devil always wins. Don't dance with Devil unless you are ready for the flames that will inevitably lap at your feet.

The Devil makes sure that Jeffrey Dahmer gets the broomstick beating death, the Devil gives Ronald Reagan Alzheimer's and slowly dines on the bits of brain that fall out, and the Devil has been busy lately. And all signs are the Devil wants his due from the Republicans and other sons-of-bitches in the world. And when it's time to pay the Devil, just drop your pants and wait for the searing pain of his hooked cock tearing your sphincter.

Take, for example, Saudi Arabia and the House of Saud. For years, the depraved and immensely wealthy ruling family has kept Saudi Arabia in a state of dictatorship and barbarism that would make Saddam Hussein proud. And all of that would have been fine and dandy for most of the madcap fundamentalist Muslims, especially those who were financed by the wealthy and depraved Saudis, except for this: the House of Saud agreed to dance with the United States in order to maintain all of its power and wealth and the U.S. merrily enjoyed the waltz of oil and terrorist funding until, of course, the Devil decided to call in his marker on September 11, 2001. And for any simpleton who believes otherwise, Saudi Arabia was the major player in the attacks that day. Now that we've had our second attack in Riyadh by (presumably) Al-Qaeda, we can assume that the end is near for the house of Saud, that, like the Romanovs in a century long past, it's only a matter of time before the public executions move on to sheiks and princes who thought they were so safe, that oil and money would protect them from the angry rabble who want their own power. And, don't worry, Israel, the Devil is giving your ledger a good long look.

It's not just overseas that the Devil is giving a good sodomizing to the powerful. Here in the United States, the bill has come due on the vicious right-wing policies that have been destroying America. In the first of what will more than likely be a torrential downpour of proof of the failure of the right in this country, states are discovering that the draconian sentences they've been imposing on "criminals" for years is actually beginning to drain their coffers. So, let's see, you mean minimum sentencing, three strikes, cuts in rehab programs, and limited paroles actually means we have to pay for criminals to stay in jail? Man, let's send those fuckers to Iraq, where at least they can die for their countries. The Rude Pundit looks forward to the day that some idiot tries to raise taxes to pay for more prisons.

Let's not even get started on all the ways in which the environmental policies of the Republicans in America are destroying us, stomping all Americans like so many grapes in a vat of sweet, blood red wine to be drunk later out of the gold goblets of corporate executives, cheering as Gale Norton does a little striptease for them, tossing out lawsuits and regulations like so many g-strings and pasties. Oh, the Devil loves the dancing.

There's a big fucking bill coming due in America, maybe not now, maybe not even in the next election, but the lies are being exposed over and over, even as those in power lie about the lying. The Devil will have his way. It just works that way. Ask anyone, from Uday Hussein to Mussolini to Ceaucescu to George Bush, Sr. Eventually the Devil shows up and says, "Bend over while I fuck your soul free from your useless body."


Another Weekend, Another Chance For Sweet, Sweet Peace, Destined To Fail:
The Rude Pundit needs to clear his head of all the pictures of a masturbating Ronald Reagan, Kaye Bailey Hutchinson masturbating with a rolled-up Constitution, George Bush being gang fisted, and Richard Perle trying to fuck Saddam Hussein. The Rude Pundit will return tomorrow, head clear, ready with more news and sodomy. But, to keep readers incensed through this sunny Sunday, by way of rare contributor Rude Two, here's a picture of Ann Coulter, that dye-jobbed, sexually repressed anorexic gloryhole for right-wing limp-dicks who couldn't score a rational thinking blonde if their lives depended on it, dry humping the gravestone of Joseph McCarthy. Enjoy!


Republicans Are Pussies, Big Wet Pussies Who Need To Be Fucked:
You know what the worst kind of pussy is? The worst kind of pussy is the pussy who tries to act like he's not a pussy. When a pussy tries to act like a bully, it just reveals how much of a pussy said pussy actually is. And you know what? Republicans in Congress are the worst kind of pussies. Here's another entry in the constant parade of shame:

Bill Frist, Senate Majority Leader and cat torturer, has halted the Senate Intelligence Committee's investigation of the Bush Administrations criminal behavior pre-Iraq war. That's because someone dug around in the garbage cans outside Democratic Senator Jay Rockefeller's office and found the draft of a memo that, simply put, said, "Gee, maybe the Republicans are trying to cover up the lies of the White House and maybe Democrats oughta investigate this themselves." That's it. That simple. Now, Republicans are indignant, puffed up with rage, their saggy balls all atwitter with anticipated evil, and they are, and, no, this is not a joke, demanding that, in order for any investigation to continue, the memo writer must "identify himself or herself . . . disavow this partisan attack in its entirety" and deliver "a personal apology" to Republican Senator Pat Roberts, chairman of the Select Committee on Intelligence and White House semen bucket.

So let's see if we can figure this out, kids: Somebody in the White House leaked the name of a CIA undercover operative to the press in order to smear and silence a career diplomat, putting the operative and her contacts abroad in possible life-threatening danger (remember the Plame affair? No? Because you're not supposed to. Your short attention span is the currency of the political right). Not only is there no call for an investigation beyond the obviously partisan Justice Department action, but Republicans don't call for the President to question his own goddamn people and out the leaker. But here, a Democratic staff member suggests ways that Democrats might be able to get at the truth of lies that are killing Americans on a daily basis, and Republicans use this as an excuse to demonstrate to the American people just how much they don't want anything remotely related to the truth to come out.

Why don't we just let the Republicans line up at the National Mall and, one by one, they can jack off on the Constitution and use the Declaration of Independence to wipe their dicks? And, for the Republican women, who ought to have less shame than a porn star at a gang fuck convention, they can roll it up and fuck themselves with it. And they can do this under the watchful eyes of the White House staff, who, smiling like Caligula finding his sister and her horse in his bed, can applaud with each ejaculation that smears the ink away.

Remember: the Republican Party is filled with contempt for the vast majority of the American public. They are pussies, punks who act like they have any honor or decency. Back in the good old days, people who acted with such craven, vile, loathsome shame, upon discovery, would do the honorable thing and kill themselves. Oh, that the chambers of Congress would bleed with all the swords fallen upon.


Why Ann Coulter Is Still a Cunt, Part 5:
Because while on Hardball on MSNBC on Tuesday night, Chris Matthews engaged the lunatic blonde in a "discussion" about the cancellation of the Reagan miniseries. Coulter offered as an example of leftist bias in films about right-wing icons the film Patton , which she kept insisting was intended to bash the slapping general, simply stating that it's "well-known." Then she attempted to revise Hollywood history by implying that the reason George C. Scott skipped the Oscars that year was because the film wasn't the anti-Patton film he had thought he was making. Luckily, the recently (and strangely) left-shifting Matthews bitch smacks Coulter by telling her the real reason Scott declined his award (he hated the "meat parade" of the ceremony). Of course, Coulter, unfazed by truth, simply stared blankly, wondering if she'd now be forced to blow the host. Again.
Hey, If I Can't Abort It, I Better Get a Tax Break:
You know, the Rude Pundit looks forward to the day that one of the Bush daughters gets knocked up after a particularly intense session of snorting coke off the cock tip of her large African boyfriend and fucking him hard to get the last little milligram into her system. Man, faster than you can say, "Reproductive rights" Jenna or Barbara will have a Hoover stuffed in her kooz to get rid of that fetus. Yeah, the day that story or anything like that comes out, women's rights advocates can shake their heads knowingly and just think, That's why they call it "choice," asshole. But meanwhile, there's an election approaching next year, so it's time for all the lies and malice the Republicans can muster in their evil quest to strip all rights away except the right to go to the church of their choice and the right to shut the fuck up or it's solitary for you, motherfucker. So, with no irony whatsoever, what with a war going on and all the death penalty crimes and Guantanamo torture, our "President" proclaimed, "America stands for liberty, for the pursuit of happiness and for the unalienable right of life. This right to life cannot be granted or denied by government because it does not come from government, it comes from the creator of life," except of course when you cross us, then, fuck the creator - your ass is ours. And, in a truly repulsive photo, Bush smiled, as did the robotronic lackeys behind him, when he signed the bill into law. What contempt these idiots have for us. Look at those smiles, the nascent evil just waiting to burst out of Orrin Hatch, Bush's smile of "See what I did, Ma!" so she can maybe hug him. In the audience, among other medical professionals, was the Reverend Jerry Falwell, looking like he just ate a big ol' bowl of nanner puddin' balanced on his gelatinous thighs.

Here's the deal: less than one percent of all abortions take place after the twentieth week. How many of those do you think are elective (that is, no one's gonna die or be horribly deformed)? Very, very few. Is dilation and extraction (which is the real name of "partial birth" abortion) the safest procedure? No, but, then again, there's quite a few medical procedures that have risks of damage and complications, like, let's say, ball park figure here, almost all. But conservatives, in their desire to control all things about the body because they fear the fucking, don't give a damn. Because they have constituents to pleasure, and nothing feels as good as the hand job of a bill limiting access to abortion.

And, really, the endgame here is declaring a fetus a human being. If that day comes, then the Rude Pundit wants his goddamn tax credit on the "human" inside any woman he's knocked up in the last year.


Connect the Dots of Disgrace:
Okay, gang, this one is for the idiots: follow the bouncing ball of shame - Republicans have gotten sand in their vaginas over the leak of a draft memo to Sean Hannity, Fox "news" talk host and Alan Colmes' rapist. The Republicans, who a few months ago were crowing over the possibility of using the President's flyboy stunt on the aircraft carrier in campaign commercials, are shocked, shocked, mind you, over the possibility of Democrats saying that the President had "dubious motives" in going to war in Iraq and that, perhaps that might be a valuable thing to tell the public during the election season. Oh, the Republicans are going to be screaming like bitch dogs getting gang fucked by pit bulls in an alley at this one, because the louder they scream and their lackeys on Fox, MSNBC or wherever, scream, the more it drowns out the obvious: the Republicans will not allow a full investigation of anything. Nothing. Jack shit. They will use any tool they can to prop up the administration. Get documents on 9/11? Forget it. Get requested interviews and documents on intelligence "failures" leading up to the war? Go fuck yourselves.

Now comes word that there may have been a last second attempt to make a deal to allow U.S. troops and weapons inspectors into Iraq in order to avoid war, but that overture was ignored, rejected like an uninsured sick child at the local emergency room. Do you think this might be of interest to a Republican-led Congress, who just gave away another bunch of billions to prop up this farce of an occupation? Yeah, but then again, that's why you have a soul, whereas Dennis Hastert, Pat Roberts, and the loathsome Orrin Hatch do not. Christ, at this point, there could be a videotape of Richard Perle, neocon architect of America's viciousness, trying to fuck Saddam Hussein, and Saddam spurning his advances, and Perle declaring to a whimpering, tight-anused Saddam, "You won't let me fuck you? Then I'm gonna get the President to bomb the living shit out of your country." Yeah, his fat gut could be on display, pants down, half-erect penis wanting that Sunni ass so bad. And even then the Republican Congress would gloss over it, saying, "Well, it was obviously an intelligence failure that Saddam wanted Perle to fuck him."

At every administrative fart in the wrong direction, the Congress and the Justice Department launched probes of the Clinton adminstration. From firing an employee to fucking an intern, no matter what, the right wing dug into that Executive Branch sphincter, expecting to find the cancer rotting within. And Clinton stood there, let 'em bring it on (not like that pussy Bush saying it about troops who would die for his failed administration). Why? Because he knew that he was right. He knew that no matter how much people investigated and spent millions and millions of dollars that could have maybe gone to, say, helping the citizens of this country, he would be cleared. He knew he was right.

This is where the dots make a picture, where the bouncing ball leads you to the end of the tune: you know why the Bush admistration won't do dick to help out any investigation, whether into Cheney's energy task force, the Plame name leak, 9/11 failures, Iraq War lies. You know why. And you should be shouting it in the streets: because they're afraid of the ugliness being revealed. Of all of it tumbling out. Of the mask of machismo being ripped off and the pants being pulled down to reveal what tiny, tiny dicks they have.


For Those Using Internet Explorer:
Make sure you have it on full screen mode. Otherwise the rudeness is confined to one screen.
Unlike the Tigris and Euphrates, Denial Is Not Just a River:
The sad spectacle of our "President" acting like everything's just hunky-fucking-dory over in Iraq continues unabated, and nothing can stop him. Not persistent attacks and awful deaths, not declining poll numbers and defectors from his own party. Nothing stops Bush from awkwardly standing in front of a microphone like a virgin giving her first blowjob, all smirky and wondering how a cock works, and proclaiming nonsense that any sane country would have overthrown its leaders for saying. Saddam Hussein, Bush said yesterday, is "trying to stir up trouble." Ya think? Do ya think when you take a vicious dictator, sweep his power aside, murder his murderous sons, but for some reason neglect to kill said dictator, ya think he might wanna fuck your shit up? It's embarassing, a case study in a psychopathology that we can call "denial." but the Rude Pundit prefers, "Fucking blind and goddamned stupid." Because he followed it up with "And I'm sure that -- I don't know, look, I can't tell you what he's doing. All I can tell you is he's not running Iraq." So lemme see if we have this straight: all you can tell us is Saddam is not running Iraq? What the fuck happens in Bush's morning briefing? Is he sitting at the conference table watching, hungover from all the "praying" he does, staring nervously ahead as house negro Condi and the increasingly constipated Donald Rumsfeld like he felt at the times he actually attended classes in college, hoping, sweating out liquor and coke, that the teacher won't call on him to offer any kind of answer? Or is he just a Reagan-like puppet, with so many hands up his ass that he may as well be the featured attraction at the national fist fucking convention, and he just jabbers whatever others say?

Or is it worse? Does he actually believe his own bullshit? In his speeches and talks over the last few days, in Birmingham, standing symbolically in the ashes of California, Bush has stridently refused to acknowledge the dead except to say that soldiers have sacrificed for the good of the country. He hasn't attended a single funeral. The military won't allow the caskets to be shown coming off the planes in Germany. Bush wants a clean fucking war. As if no one dies. As if no one has limbs blown off and scrotums ripped from torsos. He wants the fix to be in. He wants someone to bail him out, like in his career so many times before, like in the Air National Guard, like in the oil industry. He wants vile Karl, depressed Rummy, or evil Dick to step in and make it all go away.

Instead, we get the constant refrain of happiness and violence, the bipolarism of madmen.


CBS Chokes On Its Own Bullshit - Follow-Up to Last Post:
There they go again (see that? It's a joke. A joke quote from Reagan. Isn't that funny?). Unlike poor, suffering Terry Schiavo, the Reagan miniseries on CBS has had its plug pulled. Here's the pathetic story. Oh, no, they say, it' s not because of all the heat they've been getting from Republican operatives who only know how to bully people into complacency, like during the recount in Broward County. Wow and howdy-Jesus, Les Moonves just empowered every conservative scrotum face who believes he can use the bullshit pulpit of a talk show to destroy free speech in the name of political correctness. (Yeah, that's right, political correctness - let's all gang up and turn that phrase on the right: it's political correctness that says we can't have a miniseries that even minimally criticizes former President, now lawn ornament, Ronald Reagan. It's political correctness to demand that the media show the "good" stuff going on in Iraq. It's political correctness to abide by the word of the Bush administration than to castrate them at every turn of a lying phrase.) Now let's all shut up and enjoy another episode of that oh-so faithful show, JAG .
CBS - Craven Bullshit Simpletons:
Let's get this right: The Reagan miniseries is going to suck. No matter how kind or cruel it is to the former President, now gurgling drool fountain, no matter if it shows Reagan ripping the doors off the Kremlin and beating Gorbachev to death wtih them, no matter if it shows him boiling Ryan White alive to sterilize him, it is going to suck. Anyone who watches contemporary TV knows it's going to suck. Anyone who watches TV movies knows it's going to suck, that the chances of it not sucking are minuscule. Anyone who's seen the pictures of James Brolin, Aamco guy, Bab's goy boy toy, in make-up as Reagan knows it's going to suck. But that doesn't stop the Republicans and their censoring lackeys from giving CBS a good ass pounding for believing they could air this inevitable piece of shit without much problem. Nope. After the rallying cries from every rightwing asshole with a microphone (there'd be links to these bags of scum here, but suffice to say that if you want to pollute your computer, just look up Hannity, O'Reilly, Scarborough, and on and on), CBS now says it is considering canceling the whole fucking thing. Or at least sending it down to the showers at Showtime, where it can sit on the fetid shelf with the Bush on 9/11 bullshit biopic.

So that's what it comes down to: CBS is caving to a bunch of nutcases spewing their venomous hate and contempt of the public who are simply coming up with a rallying point distraction to all the bad, awful news coming out of Iraq and the White House. Jesus, if they're so sure it's going to push the public away from the media, why not shut the fuck up and let CBS air it and then jump in and say, "See, look at those bad people." But, no, like the idiots who are jumping all over Mel Gibson's inevevitably shitty faith movie, The Passion , the censors have only seen a script.

Anyone who seeks to stifle speech doesn't trust you. They don't believe you can separate reality from fiction. They hold you in such low opinion, think you are so fucking stupid, that they believe you will just sit there, slack-jawed, glaze-eyed, and filthy, staring at the TV, doing its bidding, not able to manage the slightest bit of resistance to what you're being spoon-fed. Oh, wait. That's true. You are a fucking idiot. You listen to O'Reilly blather on and think Hannity tells you the truth. Fuck you. You deserve what you get.


Reason Why Andy Rooney, Cranky Old Bastard That He Is, Can Still Kick Your Ass:
Because he has a column that indicts, no, destroys, Bush Junior's war using the words of Bush Senior. Goddamn, Thanksgiving must be fun around the Bush house, with Senior, motherfucker that he is, knowing that he's right, Mama viciously defending her babies like a grizzly bear at salmon season, and sons sitting around, looking smug and unashamed. Christ, how the scotch must flow, with Senior staring on, disgusted, drunk, wondering if he should just go to his study, call Gorby, and ask him if he remembers the old days, when evil at least wore a disguise.


Of Monkeys and Men (some random thoughts- revised):
There's signs of apocalypse all around us, but none so frightening as this: monkeys are beginning to take over New Delhi (and this is not a racist joke). Like some animal geek's idea of a joke, little fucking monkeys are overrunning office buildings, biting people, and, well, let's face it, shitting all over the place.

Speaking of the unanticipated delight of seeing if our new monkey masters can screw things up any worse than we humans, it seems that Chris Matthews, host of MSNBC's "talk" show, Hardball , appears to have gone completely monkey shit crazy and has started bad-mouthing President Bush, "Dick" Cheney, and the whole American "policy" in Iraq. Read about his Brown University speech here, where he calls the whole rationale of the Iraq war "nonsense." What happened to Matthews? Did he finally get fucked in the backroom of the MSNBC studios by that hot male intern he's been lusting after? Did someone slip some acid into his coffee and, as he was babbling nonsensically and thin-lipped, he saw that intern pass by and finally, arms twisting like he's dancing to Phish, did Matthews go up to him and say, "Uhhh, so, I'm thinkin' that maybe, you, me, and K-Y in the cloakroom . . ." And did the intern say, "Sure, Mr. Matthews, but if I fuck you, I'm gonna want you to start dissin' the Prez"? Probably not. But, hell, stranger things, you know.

Speaking of things that jabber nonsensically and throw their shit at passers-by and use clawed fingers to masturbate in front of strangers, Ronald Reagan is the subject of a new CBS miniseries that has the Republicans in a tizzy. Seems said miniseries makes Nancy Reagan seem like a power mad, manipulative harpy who guided the delusional president by the balls. Oh, and occasionally it makes Ronald Reagan seem like he's mean. See, the movie can be as glowing as possible, saying that Ronald Reagan single-handedly walked up to the Berlin Wall, ripped off his shirt, and sledgehammered it open while cowardly Berliners watched in awe, but suggest that, maybe, perhaps, Reagan didn't do dick about AIDS until his own Surgeon General defied him (as C. Everett Koop did - check your history, kids), and the chair of the Republican National Committee is demanding that Republican "historians" be given a chance to edit the film. No, the film does not delve into Iran-Contra or anything remotely sleaze that the former President, now talking pillow, did, nor does it show his Alzheimer's wracked brain attempting to put a sentence together that's more coherent than, "Ga, banky, ga." In fact, Representative John Dingell has a letter to CBS about all the history left out, like "apartheid apologia" and "James Watt." And, you know, no Republicans fucking complained when Showtime aired its sham of a film about George W. Bush on 9/11, where it showed Timothy Bottoms as Bush demanding, demanding, that his keepers land Air Force One so he could comfort his people (isn't Bush a "pilot"? Why couldn't he land the fucking plane?). Hey, Hitler loved Leni Riefenstahl. He even had final edit approval.

Fucking monkeys jabbering in your ears. Makes ya' wanna grab a baseball bat and start smacking monkey heads like croquet balls. Nothing better than the sound of crackin' monkey skulls.
Death and Starvation Is the American Way:
The Rude Pundit is trying to wrap his mind around the benumbing amount of crisis news swirling around like so many popcorn boxes and used condoms after the carnival has left town. Most obviously, the loss of 16 soldiers in Iraq in one day is just an exclamation point on a week or so of the staggering amount of violence occurring there. And let's not be stupid here about the whole "media only reports the bad news" kind of bullshit. The media reports what makes people watch. Happy guys in mustaches playing checkers on the street does not make for compelling television, even if Brit Hume is reporting it without pants (Ailes calls out down the hall, "Quick, Murdoch's drunk again! He says, 'No pants, by crikey! No pants fer the anchors!'")

Then there's this little tidbit that received little coverage: the number of hungry families in the United States is growing. And there you have this nation's attitude towards the poor in a nutshell: the Congress can, with only showboating debate, quickly pass $87 billion for Iraq and Afghanistan (although, really, and come on, Afghanistan is the bastard child of the slave mistress of the Massa' U.S.), but 12 million families in the United States worry about having enough money to put food on the table.

The Rude Pundit knows this is a cruel, cruel world. The Rude Pundit knows that awful things happen awfully often. But justice is getting even harder to come by. The domination of rhetoric and debate is so far afield from the concerns of real people, like the soldiers, like the poor (from whom the hungry and the soldiers come) that America as a civilization is quite the little sham. The Rude Pundit is not out of hope. Things turn around, sometimes, usually after it gets worse before it gets better. But who knows if America has the balls for radical change. Because if this were any kind of civilization, by now we'd have rioted and killed an awful lot of leaders and given their sweet, sweet flesh meat to the hungry so the poor would know fullness.