In Brief: Louisiana Doesn't Want You If You're Gay:
One of the charming things about Louisiana is how stubbornly the state clings to its ass backwardsness, like a high school loser clings to the first girl that blows him, no matter how pathetic and sad it eventually makes him look. It's as if stupidity and prejudice are points of pride with Louisiana, as if it's a way of getting tourist dollars: "Come to Louisiana, where we legislate science out of the classroom." Hell, at least that way, when people go down to visit, it can be quaint and charming, like visiting Amish country, not believing that Americans can actually choose to live like that in this day and age.
So, while Louisiana hasn't yet given up on modern technology (although, really, and, c'mon, how else do the evil thoughts get there?), Governor Bobby "the Exorcist" Jindal, he the great brown hope of Republicans, is letting expire an executive order by the previous governor, Kathleen Blanco, that added "sexual orientation" to the list of reasons the state could not discriminate for hiring or contracts. Blanco did this because the Legislature refused to pass any amendments to state policy adding the protection for gays and lesbians. It made them feel icky and Jeeeezus would get pissy about it, one supposes.
Jindal's thinking? "The reason for allowing the order to lapse is that I don’t think it is necessary to create additional special categories or special right," or, in other words, because he hates fags and dykes. As Gene Mills, head of the Louisiana Family Forum (motto: "Making sure our Christ-suckling young 'uns stay idiots to perpetuate our horribly narrow world view") put it, "Gov. Jindal comes from a different mindset, understanding the damage that this potentially poses to children and to the economy."
Yep, they believe that rampant homos have done nothing but molest and rape the children of Louisiana. And they'd be right, if you replaced "rampant homos" with "Catholic priests." As far as the economy goes, well, if you define "economy" as the amount of money faith-based organizations can get, then, sure, there's an impact. Under Blanco's order (even though she insisted this wasn't true), it meant that if you are from a relief organization from, say, the Southern Baptists, you couldn't discriminate based on sexual orientation when hiring. And if your federal money can't be used to prevent gays and lesbians from handing out food to the poor, then what good is it?
So Blanco's order, which reinstated an order from Democrat Edwin Edwards that was rescinded under Republican Mike Foster, will be gone. If you're gay, working for the state, and living in New Orleans, the state government just said that the recovery of the city is less important than whether or not you fuck someone of the same sex. And the order also banned "harassment," and now with that off the table, your co-workers can call you "fag" freely.
Ah, Louisiana. One step up and two steps back, the glacier of harmful, outdated ideology.
8/20/2008
The Rude Pundit Heading to Minneapolis During Republican Convention:
Anyone got some spare press passes hanging around? (See note below.)
So, like, the header pretty much says it all. Through a series of bizarre and fortunate acts and incidents, the Rude Pundit is now working with a group of crazed, talented people, almost all of them filthy-mouthed fuckers, writing for former Air America host and creator of The Daily Show Lizz Winstead's weekly stage show, Shoot the Messenger.
And the show is heading up to Minneapolis to be performed at the Parkway Theater during the Republican National Convention, or, more specifically, September 2-4. Thus, the Rude Pundit is traveling to the Twin Cities to get his fried Twinkie on and make much mock. So, c'mon, rude Minneapolis boys and ruder St. Pauli girls, get your tickets to this damned funny show (with guests like Billy Bragg showing up, too). It's the antidote to your conservative stooge hangover.
But when he's not working, the Rude Pundit'll also be roaming the St. Paul streets, reporting to you from the protests and the gatherings, talking to people good and evil, posting audio interviews during the week of September 1. Oh, Michelle Bachmann, you nutzoid MILF, won't you shoot tequila with the Rude Pundit?
More info soon.
Note: The Rude Pundit was serious about the credentials. He'll behave if he gets into the convention so no one gets the boot. Scout's motherfucking honor. Anyone got space on their press credentials list? (Markos, the Rude Pundit's lookin' at you...)
Anyone got some spare press passes hanging around? (See note below.)
So, like, the header pretty much says it all. Through a series of bizarre and fortunate acts and incidents, the Rude Pundit is now working with a group of crazed, talented people, almost all of them filthy-mouthed fuckers, writing for former Air America host and creator of The Daily Show Lizz Winstead's weekly stage show, Shoot the Messenger.
And the show is heading up to Minneapolis to be performed at the Parkway Theater during the Republican National Convention, or, more specifically, September 2-4. Thus, the Rude Pundit is traveling to the Twin Cities to get his fried Twinkie on and make much mock. So, c'mon, rude Minneapolis boys and ruder St. Pauli girls, get your tickets to this damned funny show (with guests like Billy Bragg showing up, too). It's the antidote to your conservative stooge hangover.
But when he's not working, the Rude Pundit'll also be roaming the St. Paul streets, reporting to you from the protests and the gatherings, talking to people good and evil, posting audio interviews during the week of September 1. Oh, Michelle Bachmann, you nutzoid MILF, won't you shoot tequila with the Rude Pundit?
More info soon.
Note: The Rude Pundit was serious about the credentials. He'll behave if he gets into the convention so no one gets the boot. Scout's motherfucking honor. Anyone got space on their press credentials list? (Markos, the Rude Pundit's lookin' at you...)
These People May Be Enticed to Vote for Barack Obama:
That Toby Keith is a Democrat is not news. He was pretty open about it when he was such a bastard during the whole Dixie Chicks insanity a few years back. But the fact that he's now said openly that he supports Barack Obama? Shit, in country music circles, that's pretty close to announcing that he's gay. The Obama campaign needs to jump on this - now.
If you don't see what's so fuckin' important about some singer's endorsement, you don't understand country music fans. We're talking a guy who has cultivated a bad-ass rural American image, whose tour is called "Biggest and Baddest," who's played at Bagram Airbase in Afghanistan and over at bases in Iraq, whose fans call themselves the "Warriors," who was voted the sexiest man in country music just this past month. Motherfucker sings songs advertising Ford trucks, fer chrissake.
So, now, when Keith sings to soldiers and large crowds of white people, "You’ll be sorry that you messed with/ The U.S. of A./ Cause we'll put a boot in your ass/ It's the American way," he thinks Barack Obama should be wearing that boot. When he sings, as he does in "America Soldier" in the voice of that soldier, "Beside my brothers and my sisters I will proudly take a stand,/When liberty's in jeopardy I will always do what's right,/ I'm out here on the front lines, so sleep in peace tonight," he trusts Barack Obama to decide when to place those soldiers in jeopardy. And when he sings, as he does in "Beer for my Horses," the song that mentions lynching outlaws, "We'll raise up our glasses against evil forces," he wants to toast with Obama.
Yeah, Keith is still a fucker in many ways, but politics is about taking advantage of opportunities. And if you want to counter the bullshit image of Barack Obama as an elitist, weak, effete youngster, then you could do far worse than to get the muscular dude in the cowboy hat out there for you.
(Picture from here.)
That Toby Keith is a Democrat is not news. He was pretty open about it when he was such a bastard during the whole Dixie Chicks insanity a few years back. But the fact that he's now said openly that he supports Barack Obama? Shit, in country music circles, that's pretty close to announcing that he's gay. The Obama campaign needs to jump on this - now.
If you don't see what's so fuckin' important about some singer's endorsement, you don't understand country music fans. We're talking a guy who has cultivated a bad-ass rural American image, whose tour is called "Biggest and Baddest," who's played at Bagram Airbase in Afghanistan and over at bases in Iraq, whose fans call themselves the "Warriors," who was voted the sexiest man in country music just this past month. Motherfucker sings songs advertising Ford trucks, fer chrissake.
So, now, when Keith sings to soldiers and large crowds of white people, "You’ll be sorry that you messed with/ The U.S. of A./ Cause we'll put a boot in your ass/ It's the American way," he thinks Barack Obama should be wearing that boot. When he sings, as he does in "America Soldier" in the voice of that soldier, "Beside my brothers and my sisters I will proudly take a stand,/When liberty's in jeopardy I will always do what's right,/ I'm out here on the front lines, so sleep in peace tonight," he trusts Barack Obama to decide when to place those soldiers in jeopardy. And when he sings, as he does in "Beer for my Horses," the song that mentions lynching outlaws, "We'll raise up our glasses against evil forces," he wants to toast with Obama.
Yeah, Keith is still a fucker in many ways, but politics is about taking advantage of opportunities. And if you want to counter the bullshit image of Barack Obama as an elitist, weak, effete youngster, then you could do far worse than to get the muscular dude in the cowboy hat out there for you.
(Picture from here.)
8/19/2008
John McCain Loves Blowing David Petraeus:
At night, during the sweetest of sleeps, John McCain dreams that he gives General David Petraeus the great gift of fellatio. Indeed, so often does McCain dream of sucking the cock of the surging soldier that he awakens touching the corner of his mouth, thinking there might be sticky residue remaining there. In his dreams, McCain is his younger self, the hotshot pilot wannabe, not giving a shit about hotdogging because jets have ejection seats and parachutes. He doesn't care about all the pussy being thrown his way, even though he's married. No, all he cares about is how often he can find Petraeus and nourish himself at the General's man-teat.
Sometimes, in his haze, they are in a classroom closet at Annapolis. Sometimes they are in a tiny berth on the USS Forrestal. Most of the time, though, they are alone in a bamboo cage in the shit. It is late at night, and it is the start of the wet season, but even in the rain, Petraeus tenderly nurses McCain's wounds, tells him it's okay that he signed that letter disparaging America, and, to let him know that everything will work out, he places his hard dick into McCain's aching mouth, fucking the POW's face, the effulgent head tickling the back of McCain's throat, McCain in tears, so grateful for the warm load he knows he'll be able to take in whole from his man, his general.
Those tears streak his wincing face when he wakes up. He knows he may not ever tell Petraeus about his desires. At least not in those words. Instead, he has devoted himself to making sure David, dear David, will get a sense of the depth of his choad guzzling desires by praising him at every possible opportunity. He has called this man leading a nearly broken military in a grubby little regional conflict "one of the great military leaders in American history." All of McCain's hopes and aspirations are bound up with him. For McCain equals Petraeus equals Iraq, and, in McCain's perverted syllogism, as goes one, there goes the other.
Such abiding love needs to be challenged directly in order to expose its cracks. The Obama campaign needs to go after McCain's utopian beliefs in the rightness and goodness of David Petraeus and the Iraq mission. And he needs to do it quickly, after the conventions at the latest, because right now McCain is trying to make Obama's opposition to the war into an act of treachery.
First, of all, will someone in the mainstream media please explain that when one is absolutely unvarying in one's position on something that to call it "varying" is to be a fucking liar and/or retarded. The Rude Pundit's pointed this out before, but it's become a standard line in McCain's speeches and deserves to be smacked down like a leg-humping terrier. Here it is again, from his Mussolini-worthy speech before the Veterans of Foreign Wars: "[A] lot of people are still trying to square Senator Obama's varying positions on the surge in Iraq. First, he opposed the surge and confidently predicted that it would fail. Then he tried to prevent funding for the troops who carried out the surge...Senator Obama commits the greater error of insisting that even in hindsight, he would oppose the surge." There is no varying. There is, in fact, a lack of varying that is rather impressive. If Obama were now saying he wished he had supported the escalation, then he'd be varying.
So, Obama needs some lines to come back at McCain, something like, say, "Senator McCain wants to win an election to keep fighting the war. I want to win an election to end the war." The ballsier line would be "Senator McCain wants to keep fighting a war that's over."
Or perhaps Obama needs an ad or two to point out the numerous times that McCain has called Iraq a "sovereign nation," yet refuses to agree with the Iraqi government on the need for a timeline on withdrawal. Howzabout this: point out that the vast majority of the American people want the troops home, the vast majority of the Iraqi people want the troops out, and the Iraqi government wants that timeline. Point out that John McCain doesn't care what anyone else thinks. Do we wants another stubborn bastard as president? (Leave out the bastard part; although...)
Or how about this: press McCain again and again to say how much longer he's willing to stay. He says that he thinks it might could possibly be done in 2013. What if all the goals McCain lays out on his website are not achieved by 2013? How much longer? And if he says he won't say, then that's as good as forever. And hammer that fucker home.
In other words, right now McCain is trying transform Obama into a pussy politician whose judgment is clouded by ambition. Obama's that greedy, uppity high-yellow poser. And even though he's using an issue where more Americans agree with Obama to go after the Democrat, Obama needs to turn that shit around. It's not enough to say McCain is wrong. He's gotta make the country fear McCain. He's gotta turn McCain into that crazy, out of touch old fuck who's gonna blow shit up, hiding behind the skirt of the allegedly unimpeachable, glowing David Petraeus.
Bush and McCain keep saying that they follow what the "generals on the ground" tell them. That's a punk-ass position. Point out that a fuckin' commander-in-chief ain't just a tool who does what the generals say. A commander-in-chief tells the generals what to do.
McCain's gonna keep putting up that Petraeus wall. For, indeed, it is McCain's dearest wish, if he should become president, to be standing one of the decadent rooms of a palace of Saddam Hussein's, alone with Petraeus, and to place a gold-threaded pillow under his hobbled knees, and to look Petraeus in the eyes as he unzips the man's fly and offers his bobbing thanks.
At night, during the sweetest of sleeps, John McCain dreams that he gives General David Petraeus the great gift of fellatio. Indeed, so often does McCain dream of sucking the cock of the surging soldier that he awakens touching the corner of his mouth, thinking there might be sticky residue remaining there. In his dreams, McCain is his younger self, the hotshot pilot wannabe, not giving a shit about hotdogging because jets have ejection seats and parachutes. He doesn't care about all the pussy being thrown his way, even though he's married. No, all he cares about is how often he can find Petraeus and nourish himself at the General's man-teat.
Sometimes, in his haze, they are in a classroom closet at Annapolis. Sometimes they are in a tiny berth on the USS Forrestal. Most of the time, though, they are alone in a bamboo cage in the shit. It is late at night, and it is the start of the wet season, but even in the rain, Petraeus tenderly nurses McCain's wounds, tells him it's okay that he signed that letter disparaging America, and, to let him know that everything will work out, he places his hard dick into McCain's aching mouth, fucking the POW's face, the effulgent head tickling the back of McCain's throat, McCain in tears, so grateful for the warm load he knows he'll be able to take in whole from his man, his general.
Those tears streak his wincing face when he wakes up. He knows he may not ever tell Petraeus about his desires. At least not in those words. Instead, he has devoted himself to making sure David, dear David, will get a sense of the depth of his choad guzzling desires by praising him at every possible opportunity. He has called this man leading a nearly broken military in a grubby little regional conflict "one of the great military leaders in American history." All of McCain's hopes and aspirations are bound up with him. For McCain equals Petraeus equals Iraq, and, in McCain's perverted syllogism, as goes one, there goes the other.
Such abiding love needs to be challenged directly in order to expose its cracks. The Obama campaign needs to go after McCain's utopian beliefs in the rightness and goodness of David Petraeus and the Iraq mission. And he needs to do it quickly, after the conventions at the latest, because right now McCain is trying to make Obama's opposition to the war into an act of treachery.
First, of all, will someone in the mainstream media please explain that when one is absolutely unvarying in one's position on something that to call it "varying" is to be a fucking liar and/or retarded. The Rude Pundit's pointed this out before, but it's become a standard line in McCain's speeches and deserves to be smacked down like a leg-humping terrier. Here it is again, from his Mussolini-worthy speech before the Veterans of Foreign Wars: "[A] lot of people are still trying to square Senator Obama's varying positions on the surge in Iraq. First, he opposed the surge and confidently predicted that it would fail. Then he tried to prevent funding for the troops who carried out the surge...Senator Obama commits the greater error of insisting that even in hindsight, he would oppose the surge." There is no varying. There is, in fact, a lack of varying that is rather impressive. If Obama were now saying he wished he had supported the escalation, then he'd be varying.
So, Obama needs some lines to come back at McCain, something like, say, "Senator McCain wants to win an election to keep fighting the war. I want to win an election to end the war." The ballsier line would be "Senator McCain wants to keep fighting a war that's over."
Or perhaps Obama needs an ad or two to point out the numerous times that McCain has called Iraq a "sovereign nation," yet refuses to agree with the Iraqi government on the need for a timeline on withdrawal. Howzabout this: point out that the vast majority of the American people want the troops home, the vast majority of the Iraqi people want the troops out, and the Iraqi government wants that timeline. Point out that John McCain doesn't care what anyone else thinks. Do we wants another stubborn bastard as president? (Leave out the bastard part; although...)
Or how about this: press McCain again and again to say how much longer he's willing to stay. He says that he thinks it might could possibly be done in 2013. What if all the goals McCain lays out on his website are not achieved by 2013? How much longer? And if he says he won't say, then that's as good as forever. And hammer that fucker home.
In other words, right now McCain is trying transform Obama into a pussy politician whose judgment is clouded by ambition. Obama's that greedy, uppity high-yellow poser. And even though he's using an issue where more Americans agree with Obama to go after the Democrat, Obama needs to turn that shit around. It's not enough to say McCain is wrong. He's gotta make the country fear McCain. He's gotta turn McCain into that crazy, out of touch old fuck who's gonna blow shit up, hiding behind the skirt of the allegedly unimpeachable, glowing David Petraeus.
Bush and McCain keep saying that they follow what the "generals on the ground" tell them. That's a punk-ass position. Point out that a fuckin' commander-in-chief ain't just a tool who does what the generals say. A commander-in-chief tells the generals what to do.
McCain's gonna keep putting up that Petraeus wall. For, indeed, it is McCain's dearest wish, if he should become president, to be standing one of the decadent rooms of a palace of Saddam Hussein's, alone with Petraeus, and to place a gold-threaded pillow under his hobbled knees, and to look Petraeus in the eyes as he unzips the man's fly and offers his bobbing thanks.
8/18/2008
Riding Rick Warren's Saddleback:
According to the transcripts from CNN and his own website, Rick Warren did not play fair with the presidential candidates. The first question Rick Warren asked John McCain was not the first question that he asked Barack Obama. They are immensely different. Warren quoted Proverbs and then asked Obama, "Who are the three wisest people you know in your life, and who are you going to rely on heavily in your administration?" Asked two separate questions, framed by biblical "wisdom," Obama gave two separate answers, one personal, one political.
Warren asked John McCain, "Who are the three wisest people that you know that you would rely on heavily in an administration?" That's not just different phrasing. That's an entirely different question. Warren did not preface his query to McCain with a Bible verse. So the context and the actual question were not the same as for Obama. McCain could more easily give his military guy, black guy, and woman answer.
It'd be like asking one orgy participant, "Whose ass do you want to fuck first, and do you want snacks?" and asking another, "Whose ass do you want to eat snacks out of?" The activities are significantly different.
Beyond whether or not McCain listened to part of Obama's "conversation" with Warren while in his limo on the way to the Saddleback Church and not in a "cone of silence," as the pastor promised, beyond whether or not his cross-in-the-dirt story is stolen, what very few people have commented on in the mainstream media is the way McCain actually answered many of the questions that Warren asked. While Obama fell into the liberal trap of wrestling and grasping with ideas and, holy shit, nuance, McCain used every question as a chance to repeat the same lines from his campaign stops.
Warren asked about an issue McCain had changed his mind on, and McCain launched into his endless diatribe about offshore oil drilling. Instead of talking about how he came to shift positions, McCain talked about nuclear power and the French. Asked about evil in the world, McCain made the bold assertion, "No one, no one should be allowed to take thousands of American — innocent American lives." When Warren asked McCain not to give his stump speech on education, McCain gave his stump speech on education.
And while all the pundits positively creamed themselves with McCain's oh-so-firm answer on abortion, bravely stating in an evangelical church that he believes life begins at conception, when Warren asked him, "where do you move from middle class to rich? Is it $100,000, is it $50,000, is it $200,000?" McCain descended into a kind of madness, a deranged mixing of talking points and glib pop psychology.
First he said, "Some of the richest people I’ve ever known in my life are the most unhappy," which had nothing to do with the question." When McCain finally gave a number, he tossed out, for a laugh, "$5 million." Instead, he turned it into a chance to repeat his standard lines about cutting taxes and wasteful government spending, about Congress going on vacation, about economic problems for poor people that can't be solved no matter how many tax cuts you give, ending with, "I can lead, and I know that our best days are ahead of us."
Yes, Obama did occasionally fall into campaign rhetoric mode. Yes, his abortion answer was a fuck-up in wording - "above my pay grade" was actually a way of saying, "I'm not a fuckin' medical researcher or a goddamn priest." But Obama talked to Warren, answered Warren's questions, engaged in a conversation with Warren, at least trying to give the appearance that he was listening to the goateed pastor. Hell, Obama was the one who acted like he knew how to behave with a pastor and seemed way more at home talking about morality and biblical references.
McCain came into the Saddleback Church having rehearsed lines, addressing the audience, ready with stories about his captivity and applause lines for a friendly crowd. He was constantly veering off-topic to tell a story like, well, an old man with an audience. And who the fuck could blame him for pandering?
But here's something that should be at least somewhat disturbing. When talking about foreign policy, twice McCain referred to former Soviet states as "little." Georgia is a "great little nation" and a "beautiful little country." Belarus and others are "little countries." The infantilization of Eastern Europe bespeaks a condescension to their needs, as well as setting up a parental reliance on the United States, perhaps even leading to military intervention in conflicts with Russia, which, one presumes, is not little in McCain's imperial mindset.
McCain also answered the question about his greatest moral failure with "the failure of my first marriage." So the Republican nominee is saying that his current marriage, with children, is a product of a his moral failure. Well, shit, maybe that's why Cindy McCain seemingly adopted a child without consulting her husband.
Oh, and by the way, who the fuck cares what a fat fuck rich preacher has to say beyond his congregation? Thanks, candidates, for boosting his book sales and legitimizing the church as a deciding factor in the presidential race.
According to the transcripts from CNN and his own website, Rick Warren did not play fair with the presidential candidates. The first question Rick Warren asked John McCain was not the first question that he asked Barack Obama. They are immensely different. Warren quoted Proverbs and then asked Obama, "Who are the three wisest people you know in your life, and who are you going to rely on heavily in your administration?" Asked two separate questions, framed by biblical "wisdom," Obama gave two separate answers, one personal, one political.
Warren asked John McCain, "Who are the three wisest people that you know that you would rely on heavily in an administration?" That's not just different phrasing. That's an entirely different question. Warren did not preface his query to McCain with a Bible verse. So the context and the actual question were not the same as for Obama. McCain could more easily give his military guy, black guy, and woman answer.
It'd be like asking one orgy participant, "Whose ass do you want to fuck first, and do you want snacks?" and asking another, "Whose ass do you want to eat snacks out of?" The activities are significantly different.
Beyond whether or not McCain listened to part of Obama's "conversation" with Warren while in his limo on the way to the Saddleback Church and not in a "cone of silence," as the pastor promised, beyond whether or not his cross-in-the-dirt story is stolen, what very few people have commented on in the mainstream media is the way McCain actually answered many of the questions that Warren asked. While Obama fell into the liberal trap of wrestling and grasping with ideas and, holy shit, nuance, McCain used every question as a chance to repeat the same lines from his campaign stops.
Warren asked about an issue McCain had changed his mind on, and McCain launched into his endless diatribe about offshore oil drilling. Instead of talking about how he came to shift positions, McCain talked about nuclear power and the French. Asked about evil in the world, McCain made the bold assertion, "No one, no one should be allowed to take thousands of American — innocent American lives." When Warren asked McCain not to give his stump speech on education, McCain gave his stump speech on education.
And while all the pundits positively creamed themselves with McCain's oh-so-firm answer on abortion, bravely stating in an evangelical church that he believes life begins at conception, when Warren asked him, "where do you move from middle class to rich? Is it $100,000, is it $50,000, is it $200,000?" McCain descended into a kind of madness, a deranged mixing of talking points and glib pop psychology.
First he said, "Some of the richest people I’ve ever known in my life are the most unhappy," which had nothing to do with the question." When McCain finally gave a number, he tossed out, for a laugh, "$5 million." Instead, he turned it into a chance to repeat his standard lines about cutting taxes and wasteful government spending, about Congress going on vacation, about economic problems for poor people that can't be solved no matter how many tax cuts you give, ending with, "I can lead, and I know that our best days are ahead of us."
Yes, Obama did occasionally fall into campaign rhetoric mode. Yes, his abortion answer was a fuck-up in wording - "above my pay grade" was actually a way of saying, "I'm not a fuckin' medical researcher or a goddamn priest." But Obama talked to Warren, answered Warren's questions, engaged in a conversation with Warren, at least trying to give the appearance that he was listening to the goateed pastor. Hell, Obama was the one who acted like he knew how to behave with a pastor and seemed way more at home talking about morality and biblical references.
McCain came into the Saddleback Church having rehearsed lines, addressing the audience, ready with stories about his captivity and applause lines for a friendly crowd. He was constantly veering off-topic to tell a story like, well, an old man with an audience. And who the fuck could blame him for pandering?
But here's something that should be at least somewhat disturbing. When talking about foreign policy, twice McCain referred to former Soviet states as "little." Georgia is a "great little nation" and a "beautiful little country." Belarus and others are "little countries." The infantilization of Eastern Europe bespeaks a condescension to their needs, as well as setting up a parental reliance on the United States, perhaps even leading to military intervention in conflicts with Russia, which, one presumes, is not little in McCain's imperial mindset.
McCain also answered the question about his greatest moral failure with "the failure of my first marriage." So the Republican nominee is saying that his current marriage, with children, is a product of a his moral failure. Well, shit, maybe that's why Cindy McCain seemingly adopted a child without consulting her husband.
Oh, and by the way, who the fuck cares what a fat fuck rich preacher has to say beyond his congregation? Thanks, candidates, for boosting his book sales and legitimizing the church as a deciding factor in the presidential race.
8/16/2008
Regarding the Warren Intermission: Holy Fuck, What Was That?:
The Rude Pundit's got one straight couple, one lesbian couple, and one tranny friend over for drinks and opium and pie, so he's gotta make this quick.
How dare Barack Obama not make Rick Warren's church into a place to repeat his hankie and applause lines?
And how much spackle did they put on John McCain's face?
More Monday.
The Rude Pundit's got one straight couple, one lesbian couple, and one tranny friend over for drinks and opium and pie, so he's gotta make this quick.
How dare Barack Obama not make Rick Warren's church into a place to repeat his hankie and applause lines?
And how much spackle did they put on John McCain's face?
More Monday.
8/15/2008
Photos That Make Racists Want to Suck Down a Last Bud Before Tasting the Sweet Tang of Gun Oil:
The Rude Pundit's avoided all of the breathless, excitable, and totally useless speculation over who the candidates are gonna choose for their VP. But one of the amusing parts of the discussion has been the "Fuck You, Joe Lieberman" school of outrage for the possibility that the Connecticut Senator might be John McCain's pick for the Vice President spot. The Rude Pundit says, "Fuck, yeah. Bring that shit on."
Look at it from the point of view of your average racist white Christian(ish) American. We'll make this one a male. He's already decided there's no fuckin' way he'll vote for a Muslim nigger who looks like he's got a razor in his back pocket. But then all of a sudden the white guy puts the kike on the ticket? That's the tipping point, motherfuckers. All of a sudden ARWCA is lookin' at Bob Barr or, more likely, just staying home on Election Day and cleaning his guns to get ready for either the blacks to rape his wife or the Jews to repossess his house.
And, hell, in terms of otherness, Lieberman's far, far Jewier than Obama's black, and therefore way more of a threat. Hell, the Rude Pundit's vaguely Jewish, and he wouldn't want to try to split a check at a restaurant with Lieberman. Most whites wouldn't even cross the street if they saw Barack Obama heading their way. We on the left should be encouraging McCain to hang with his good buddy, Hebraic Joe.
So go ahead, McCain campaign. Try to create that illusion of bipartisanship by putting the non-Democrat on your ticket. In terms of potential gains and losses of voters, it's a fuckin' wash.
The Rude Pundit's avoided all of the breathless, excitable, and totally useless speculation over who the candidates are gonna choose for their VP. But one of the amusing parts of the discussion has been the "Fuck You, Joe Lieberman" school of outrage for the possibility that the Connecticut Senator might be John McCain's pick for the Vice President spot. The Rude Pundit says, "Fuck, yeah. Bring that shit on."
Look at it from the point of view of your average racist white Christian(ish) American. We'll make this one a male. He's already decided there's no fuckin' way he'll vote for a Muslim nigger who looks like he's got a razor in his back pocket. But then all of a sudden the white guy puts the kike on the ticket? That's the tipping point, motherfuckers. All of a sudden ARWCA is lookin' at Bob Barr or, more likely, just staying home on Election Day and cleaning his guns to get ready for either the blacks to rape his wife or the Jews to repossess his house.
And, hell, in terms of otherness, Lieberman's far, far Jewier than Obama's black, and therefore way more of a threat. Hell, the Rude Pundit's vaguely Jewish, and he wouldn't want to try to split a check at a restaurant with Lieberman. Most whites wouldn't even cross the street if they saw Barack Obama heading their way. We on the left should be encouraging McCain to hang with his good buddy, Hebraic Joe.
So go ahead, McCain campaign. Try to create that illusion of bipartisanship by putting the non-Democrat on your ticket. In terms of potential gains and losses of voters, it's a fuckin' wash.
8/14/2008
When Do We Get to Beat Up an Old Man?:
Here's one of the most bizarro attempts to portray absolute consistency on a position as flip-flopping: In his speech to the Annual Convention of Disabled American Veterans this week, John McCain tried to describe "many problems in the shifting positions of my opponent, Senator Obama." Indeed, he reiterated what promised to be shocking proof that Obama lacks conviction: "With just three months to go before the election, a lot of folks are still trying to square Senator Obama's varying positions on the surge in Iraq." Holy fuck, the anxious vets must have thought, shit's about to go down.
And then McCain detailed what on first, second, and third glance, and, indeed, on deep observation, is a completely consistent belief by Obama: "First, he opposed the surge. Then he confidently predicted that it would fail. Then he tried to prevent funding for the troops who carried out the surge." So, just to make sure we got this right, Obama was against the surge, believed it would fail, and refused to vote for its funding. In what fucking universe is that a varying or shifting position? For McCain, this is proof that Obama is putting politics ahead of the country.
McCain's supposed final twist of the knife is to tell us that, even now, after the supposedly splendiferous surge has brought flower-shitting unicorns to the streets of Baghdad, "even in hindsight, [Obama] would oppose the surge." Again, McCain says this is an example of "all of these claims and positions by Senator Obama" for political expediency, when, in what most of us would call "reality," it's an example of a single position held even when everyone around is lying about it.
But that's the McCain candidacy in a goddamn nutshell, innit? The promise that he's going to tell us something or do something big and life-changing, when the truth is that he's just either lying to our faces or forgetting he ever said it in the first place. McCain is a master of bullshit, an unfathomably amoral spinner, all covered in the sheen of his sweat-slickened tortured body from 'Nam. If this motherfucker hadn't had his bones shattered by the NVA, who knew a breakable pussy when they smelled one, he'd be sucking beers in a trailer outside Flagstaff, pathetically cursing his father for making him believe he'd be something some day. Instead, because he can't lift his arms, he's Rove's perfect machine, a hateful fucker with a real military record and not a fake one.
Sometimes, when you're in a bar, a real bar with regulars, like a couple of places in Wrigleyville in Chicago that aren't infected with tourists or filled with flat-screens where the Rude Pundit liked to grab a couple of shots when he was working in that fair city a few years back, there's people who just decide they don't fuckin' like you. Old guys, guys who feel a sense of proprietorship over the place and any activity done or opinions given. Sure, if you've been to enough joints, you've experienced this, the cranky, grizzled fucks who think you're full of shit and think they know everything when they're just assholes who haven't been put in their place enough in their adult lives.
Most of the time, you just ignore it, when Old Man Johnny talks about how he can kick your ass, how he's taken down dudes twice as big as you are, how, even with his bum knee and arthritis, he could still knock your teeth out. Most of the time, you just nod and move to another part of the bar or you try to charm the bastard, get him a round or two. The Rude Pundit's favorite fight avoidance strategy: get 'em talking, for, indeed, chances are they're just looking for someone new to tell war stories to. (And, oh, the things the Rude Pundit has learned, about life, about lies, about history, from these grumpy drunks.)
Every once in a while, though, some wrinkled cock thinks he has something to prove, to himself, to some hot young piece of ass that's given him some attention, to other wrinkled cocks around him. And Old Man Johnny either wants to you to fight or get the fuck out of his bar. The best advice is to just walk away. Fights hurt. A lot.
But there's a rare occasion where everything lines up: Old Man Johnny's in your face, been in your face for hours, and you've had a shitty day, and the drinks have kicked you down the stairs instead of up, and, well, then fuck this old fucker and everything you've ever been taught about respecting your elders and other bullshit. Time for the old man to go back to school.
So here's the Rude Pundit's advice for Barack Obama's campaign: sometimes there's something ineffably and extraordinarily gratifying about beating down an old man. Sure, some will say that you're just hitting a weak old dude, but most will realize that he had it coming. It's like you're saying that the people who are gonna be alive for a while get to decide how shit goes down and what the order of things is gonna be. Even if it accomplishes nothing else but showing everyone else in the bar that you are not gonna take shit from anyone, it had to be done.
'Cause, right now, while Obama is walking out of the bar, telling everyone how it's a shame that Old Man Johnny's an alcoholic, Johnny's still in there, laughing about how Obama's such a pussy that he won't get his manicure dirty.
Or, to put it more directly, Karl Rove plays the long game. If the Obama campaign lets the McCain campaign get away with questioning Obama's patriotism again and again, and it has the desired Swift Boat effect, then, even if he wins, Obama's given his political opponents the way to wreck his agenda. And, sorry, an ad about how McCain's economic policies suck is the response equivalent of punching yourself in the balls.
Here's one of the most bizarro attempts to portray absolute consistency on a position as flip-flopping: In his speech to the Annual Convention of Disabled American Veterans this week, John McCain tried to describe "many problems in the shifting positions of my opponent, Senator Obama." Indeed, he reiterated what promised to be shocking proof that Obama lacks conviction: "With just three months to go before the election, a lot of folks are still trying to square Senator Obama's varying positions on the surge in Iraq." Holy fuck, the anxious vets must have thought, shit's about to go down.
And then McCain detailed what on first, second, and third glance, and, indeed, on deep observation, is a completely consistent belief by Obama: "First, he opposed the surge. Then he confidently predicted that it would fail. Then he tried to prevent funding for the troops who carried out the surge." So, just to make sure we got this right, Obama was against the surge, believed it would fail, and refused to vote for its funding. In what fucking universe is that a varying or shifting position? For McCain, this is proof that Obama is putting politics ahead of the country.
McCain's supposed final twist of the knife is to tell us that, even now, after the supposedly splendiferous surge has brought flower-shitting unicorns to the streets of Baghdad, "even in hindsight, [Obama] would oppose the surge." Again, McCain says this is an example of "all of these claims and positions by Senator Obama" for political expediency, when, in what most of us would call "reality," it's an example of a single position held even when everyone around is lying about it.
But that's the McCain candidacy in a goddamn nutshell, innit? The promise that he's going to tell us something or do something big and life-changing, when the truth is that he's just either lying to our faces or forgetting he ever said it in the first place. McCain is a master of bullshit, an unfathomably amoral spinner, all covered in the sheen of his sweat-slickened tortured body from 'Nam. If this motherfucker hadn't had his bones shattered by the NVA, who knew a breakable pussy when they smelled one, he'd be sucking beers in a trailer outside Flagstaff, pathetically cursing his father for making him believe he'd be something some day. Instead, because he can't lift his arms, he's Rove's perfect machine, a hateful fucker with a real military record and not a fake one.
Sometimes, when you're in a bar, a real bar with regulars, like a couple of places in Wrigleyville in Chicago that aren't infected with tourists or filled with flat-screens where the Rude Pundit liked to grab a couple of shots when he was working in that fair city a few years back, there's people who just decide they don't fuckin' like you. Old guys, guys who feel a sense of proprietorship over the place and any activity done or opinions given. Sure, if you've been to enough joints, you've experienced this, the cranky, grizzled fucks who think you're full of shit and think they know everything when they're just assholes who haven't been put in their place enough in their adult lives.
Most of the time, you just ignore it, when Old Man Johnny talks about how he can kick your ass, how he's taken down dudes twice as big as you are, how, even with his bum knee and arthritis, he could still knock your teeth out. Most of the time, you just nod and move to another part of the bar or you try to charm the bastard, get him a round or two. The Rude Pundit's favorite fight avoidance strategy: get 'em talking, for, indeed, chances are they're just looking for someone new to tell war stories to. (And, oh, the things the Rude Pundit has learned, about life, about lies, about history, from these grumpy drunks.)
Every once in a while, though, some wrinkled cock thinks he has something to prove, to himself, to some hot young piece of ass that's given him some attention, to other wrinkled cocks around him. And Old Man Johnny either wants to you to fight or get the fuck out of his bar. The best advice is to just walk away. Fights hurt. A lot.
But there's a rare occasion where everything lines up: Old Man Johnny's in your face, been in your face for hours, and you've had a shitty day, and the drinks have kicked you down the stairs instead of up, and, well, then fuck this old fucker and everything you've ever been taught about respecting your elders and other bullshit. Time for the old man to go back to school.
So here's the Rude Pundit's advice for Barack Obama's campaign: sometimes there's something ineffably and extraordinarily gratifying about beating down an old man. Sure, some will say that you're just hitting a weak old dude, but most will realize that he had it coming. It's like you're saying that the people who are gonna be alive for a while get to decide how shit goes down and what the order of things is gonna be. Even if it accomplishes nothing else but showing everyone else in the bar that you are not gonna take shit from anyone, it had to be done.
'Cause, right now, while Obama is walking out of the bar, telling everyone how it's a shame that Old Man Johnny's an alcoholic, Johnny's still in there, laughing about how Obama's such a pussy that he won't get his manicure dirty.
Or, to put it more directly, Karl Rove plays the long game. If the Obama campaign lets the McCain campaign get away with questioning Obama's patriotism again and again, and it has the desired Swift Boat effect, then, even if he wins, Obama's given his political opponents the way to wreck his agenda. And, sorry, an ad about how McCain's economic policies suck is the response equivalent of punching yourself in the balls.
8/13/2008
Michael Mukasey Doesn't Care About the Security of Americans:
Goddamn, Attorney General Michael Mukasey is such a cunt. In his speech yesterday before the American Bar Association, he may as well have stood there and said, "I am such a cunt. I mean, holy fuckin' shit, you have no idea how much of a cunt I am, but lemme give you some clues" before launching into his prepared remarks. His seemingly benign cuntishness (it's a trick involving his spectacles and buzzcut) makes one long for the blatantly creepy cuntocity of Alberto Gonzales.
Here's what Mukasey said yesterday: not only is he not going to pursue charges against Monica Goodling et al for giving a political litmus test to candidates for ostensibly non-political jobs, but he thinks they've been punished enough: "The officials most directly implicated in the misconduct left the Department to the accompaniment of substantial negative publicity. Their misconduct has now been laid bare by the Justice Department for all to see. As a general matter in such cases, where disciplinary referrals are appropriate, they are made. To put it in concrete terms, I doubt that anyone in this room would want to trade places with any of those people." Oh, snap, motherfuckers. Looks like someone's been giving naked bottom paddlings to his employees.
See, as Mukasey explained, they didn't violate criminal laws, but civil service law, and he's right that that doesn't end up in criminal prosecution. But you know what is actionable in criminal law? Ordering people to violate civil service law. Conspiracy and all that shit. And Mukasey certainly hinted at such crimes: "the failure was systemic in that the system – the institution – failed to check the behavior of those who did wrong. There was a failure of supervision by senior officials in the Department. And there was a failure on the part of some employees to cry foul when they were aware, or should have been aware, of problems."
Yep, a systemic failure, one where others might be implicated, would seem to warrant action. But, see, that might require further investigation. And that might lead directly to Alberto Gonzales. And if people start to roll over, well, that way madness lies.
Even more cuntish was what was left out of Mukasey's remarks. He did say that those who were hired won't be fired because "it would be harmful to the Department and to the country." You remember back in the day when everything was related to security? When to support the extension of civil service benefits to workers at the Department of Homeland Security meant that you wanted Osama bin Laden to force America's sons to fellate his goats? When if a Democrat happened to mention that some action of the administration was a violation of civil rights, it meant that the Democrats were ready to hand the keys to the White House to Islamonazis or whatever the word was? Wait, wasn't that like last week or so? Anyway...
In that bullshit, overwrought context, what Mukasey left out was that the actions of Monica Goodling et al in Alberto Gonzales's Justice Department placed all of us in greater danger. If you're more concerned with whether or not Johnny or Jenny Civil Servant would take a bullet for aborted fetuses than if they have the skills to do the goddamn jobs at the goddamn Department of goddamn Justice, then you are saying that you don't give a happy monkey fuck about the security of the country. The nation or the man/party. One is not the same as the other. Sure, Mukasey can spin and spittle that just because politics was taken into consideration, it "does not mean that the people they hired are unqualified for their jobs." No, but it does mean they may not be the most qualified for the their jobs, which include positions like "judge."
Mukasey's right that to fire people because the interview process was fucked is unfair, especially since the Rude Pundit would like to think that more than one of them stared for a moment when, in an interview for a job dealing with immigration, Goodling might ask them what they think about the homosexuals and their desire for marriage before answering in a lie that'd get them the job. (If the Rude Pundit had been asked, as Goodling did, "What is it about George W. Bush that makes you want to serve him?" he'd have answered, "He smells like lime and coca leaves.")
And, hey, the people who were passed over because they thought being gay was okay have been invited back to apply for more jobs. It's like the end of a fight at a kid's birthday party, where you force the fat boy who took most of the candy from the pinata to give a piece or two to the ones he batted out of the way.
No, Mr. Former Judge Attorney General Mukasey, as you say, "Two wrongs don't make a right." But you lead the fuckin' Justice Department. You know that to right a wrong means you might have to actually pursue justice. Or don't you give a damn about the safety of the United States?
Goddamn, Attorney General Michael Mukasey is such a cunt. In his speech yesterday before the American Bar Association, he may as well have stood there and said, "I am such a cunt. I mean, holy fuckin' shit, you have no idea how much of a cunt I am, but lemme give you some clues" before launching into his prepared remarks. His seemingly benign cuntishness (it's a trick involving his spectacles and buzzcut) makes one long for the blatantly creepy cuntocity of Alberto Gonzales.
Here's what Mukasey said yesterday: not only is he not going to pursue charges against Monica Goodling et al for giving a political litmus test to candidates for ostensibly non-political jobs, but he thinks they've been punished enough: "The officials most directly implicated in the misconduct left the Department to the accompaniment of substantial negative publicity. Their misconduct has now been laid bare by the Justice Department for all to see. As a general matter in such cases, where disciplinary referrals are appropriate, they are made. To put it in concrete terms, I doubt that anyone in this room would want to trade places with any of those people." Oh, snap, motherfuckers. Looks like someone's been giving naked bottom paddlings to his employees.
See, as Mukasey explained, they didn't violate criminal laws, but civil service law, and he's right that that doesn't end up in criminal prosecution. But you know what is actionable in criminal law? Ordering people to violate civil service law. Conspiracy and all that shit. And Mukasey certainly hinted at such crimes: "the failure was systemic in that the system – the institution – failed to check the behavior of those who did wrong. There was a failure of supervision by senior officials in the Department. And there was a failure on the part of some employees to cry foul when they were aware, or should have been aware, of problems."
Yep, a systemic failure, one where others might be implicated, would seem to warrant action. But, see, that might require further investigation. And that might lead directly to Alberto Gonzales. And if people start to roll over, well, that way madness lies.
Even more cuntish was what was left out of Mukasey's remarks. He did say that those who were hired won't be fired because "it would be harmful to the Department and to the country." You remember back in the day when everything was related to security? When to support the extension of civil service benefits to workers at the Department of Homeland Security meant that you wanted Osama bin Laden to force America's sons to fellate his goats? When if a Democrat happened to mention that some action of the administration was a violation of civil rights, it meant that the Democrats were ready to hand the keys to the White House to Islamonazis or whatever the word was? Wait, wasn't that like last week or so? Anyway...
In that bullshit, overwrought context, what Mukasey left out was that the actions of Monica Goodling et al in Alberto Gonzales's Justice Department placed all of us in greater danger. If you're more concerned with whether or not Johnny or Jenny Civil Servant would take a bullet for aborted fetuses than if they have the skills to do the goddamn jobs at the goddamn Department of goddamn Justice, then you are saying that you don't give a happy monkey fuck about the security of the country. The nation or the man/party. One is not the same as the other. Sure, Mukasey can spin and spittle that just because politics was taken into consideration, it "does not mean that the people they hired are unqualified for their jobs." No, but it does mean they may not be the most qualified for the their jobs, which include positions like "judge."
Mukasey's right that to fire people because the interview process was fucked is unfair, especially since the Rude Pundit would like to think that more than one of them stared for a moment when, in an interview for a job dealing with immigration, Goodling might ask them what they think about the homosexuals and their desire for marriage before answering in a lie that'd get them the job. (If the Rude Pundit had been asked, as Goodling did, "What is it about George W. Bush that makes you want to serve him?" he'd have answered, "He smells like lime and coca leaves.")
And, hey, the people who were passed over because they thought being gay was okay have been invited back to apply for more jobs. It's like the end of a fight at a kid's birthday party, where you force the fat boy who took most of the candy from the pinata to give a piece or two to the ones he batted out of the way.
No, Mr. Former Judge Attorney General Mukasey, as you say, "Two wrongs don't make a right." But you lead the fuckin' Justice Department. You know that to right a wrong means you might have to actually pursue justice. Or don't you give a damn about the safety of the United States?
8/12/2008
"Hot Chicks Dig Obama": Blame the Impotence:
Oh, sweet readers, beware the impotent straight man. For, indeed, the man who has suffered the indelible shame of "it's okay" from a sighing nude or semi-nude woman as a response to his pronounced penile flaccidity will have a rage ignited inside of him. And that fire inside due to a lack of tumescence, a denial of rigidity, a floppy cock shall evince itself in numerous ways, none of them terribly complex. Most men will turn inward, falling into an abyss of self-loathing and depression, maybe compensating by working harder, drinking more, or, most sadly, trying and failing again and again to get hard and breach the decreasingly lubricated walls of his lover's fortress of pleasure, thus perpetuating the spiral into the aforementioned abyss.
However, the impotent man may also turn outward once he fails in the bedroom, living room, or bar bathroom stall. He may decide that the rest of the world must suffer for his peter's arrested stiffness. And then, merciful fuck, how he will lash out. In general at all around him, and specifically and especially against those he perceives are balling women with ease. Some men's whole lives are built around punishing others for their personal failings. Whole civilizations have fallen and entire peoples enslaved or murdered just because some dude in power couldn't get his dick up.
Thus we have John McCain's latest web ad, "The Fan Club." In it, McCain again goes after Barack Obama for the horrible sin of being liked. Oh, and the ad, as usual, blatantly lies and/or misrepresents Obama's actual plans. But the main point of the ad seems to be that white women wanna fuck Obama. Hell, it's even got a guy jealously spouting, "Hot chicks dig Obama." And, to reiterate, the ad only shows white chicks of varying degrees of hotness, one of whom talks about his "dreamy eyes." While the Paris/Britney ad might not have been blatantly race-related, you'd be an idiot to miss the implications here.
So this is where the campaign of John McCain is in August: it's using apocalyptic imagery befitting a 700 Club commercial on the Antichrist in its ad declaring Obama "the One" (a title that is re-asserted in this ad), and now it's preying on one of the most rank prejudices, that black men might ball your white women (or, in this case, vice versa), the irrational fear that led to that pleasant aspect of lynchings - castration. The ad is ostensibly about how shallowly popular Obama's support is, but, really, and c'mon, it's about the threat of interracial fucking.
Is that going too far? Please. It's August. With this rapid progression of disgust, by October, the McCain campaign will be releasing ads with a digital Obama using his giant cock to rape JonBenet Ramsey's corpse.
The Rude Pundit's got a friend who believes the McCain campaign, by appealing to the basest of the base, the nutzoid racists and endtimers who pollute the nation, is trying to bring out the crazies not just to vote for McCain, but to kill Obama. As in assassinate. This friend believes that it's the conscious strategy of the Rovean activists in McCain's camp. And while the Rude Pundit isn't ready to go that far, he does think that, as with the ads, it's a frighteningly logical progression of Republican electoral tactics. Also, he believes that, barring a real scandal, it's about the only way that McCain has a chance in November. (Note to those who write to the Rude Pundit questioning his "optimism" about the election: Wait for September and the debates. Then see who's right.)
At some point, Obama's gonna have to get in the gutter and take real swings at McCain. Just so that he goes into office demonstrating that he's not gonna knuckle under to this kind of bullshit, he's gonna have to beat up an old man.
(For more on what impotence does to right-wing politicians in particular, see George W. Bush's brief words on the situation between Russia and Georgia.)
Oh, sweet readers, beware the impotent straight man. For, indeed, the man who has suffered the indelible shame of "it's okay" from a sighing nude or semi-nude woman as a response to his pronounced penile flaccidity will have a rage ignited inside of him. And that fire inside due to a lack of tumescence, a denial of rigidity, a floppy cock shall evince itself in numerous ways, none of them terribly complex. Most men will turn inward, falling into an abyss of self-loathing and depression, maybe compensating by working harder, drinking more, or, most sadly, trying and failing again and again to get hard and breach the decreasingly lubricated walls of his lover's fortress of pleasure, thus perpetuating the spiral into the aforementioned abyss.
However, the impotent man may also turn outward once he fails in the bedroom, living room, or bar bathroom stall. He may decide that the rest of the world must suffer for his peter's arrested stiffness. And then, merciful fuck, how he will lash out. In general at all around him, and specifically and especially against those he perceives are balling women with ease. Some men's whole lives are built around punishing others for their personal failings. Whole civilizations have fallen and entire peoples enslaved or murdered just because some dude in power couldn't get his dick up.
Thus we have John McCain's latest web ad, "The Fan Club." In it, McCain again goes after Barack Obama for the horrible sin of being liked. Oh, and the ad, as usual, blatantly lies and/or misrepresents Obama's actual plans. But the main point of the ad seems to be that white women wanna fuck Obama. Hell, it's even got a guy jealously spouting, "Hot chicks dig Obama." And, to reiterate, the ad only shows white chicks of varying degrees of hotness, one of whom talks about his "dreamy eyes." While the Paris/Britney ad might not have been blatantly race-related, you'd be an idiot to miss the implications here.
So this is where the campaign of John McCain is in August: it's using apocalyptic imagery befitting a 700 Club commercial on the Antichrist in its ad declaring Obama "the One" (a title that is re-asserted in this ad), and now it's preying on one of the most rank prejudices, that black men might ball your white women (or, in this case, vice versa), the irrational fear that led to that pleasant aspect of lynchings - castration. The ad is ostensibly about how shallowly popular Obama's support is, but, really, and c'mon, it's about the threat of interracial fucking.
Is that going too far? Please. It's August. With this rapid progression of disgust, by October, the McCain campaign will be releasing ads with a digital Obama using his giant cock to rape JonBenet Ramsey's corpse.
The Rude Pundit's got a friend who believes the McCain campaign, by appealing to the basest of the base, the nutzoid racists and endtimers who pollute the nation, is trying to bring out the crazies not just to vote for McCain, but to kill Obama. As in assassinate. This friend believes that it's the conscious strategy of the Rovean activists in McCain's camp. And while the Rude Pundit isn't ready to go that far, he does think that, as with the ads, it's a frighteningly logical progression of Republican electoral tactics. Also, he believes that, barring a real scandal, it's about the only way that McCain has a chance in November. (Note to those who write to the Rude Pundit questioning his "optimism" about the election: Wait for September and the debates. Then see who's right.)
At some point, Obama's gonna have to get in the gutter and take real swings at McCain. Just so that he goes into office demonstrating that he's not gonna knuckle under to this kind of bullshit, he's gonna have to beat up an old man.
(For more on what impotence does to right-wing politicians in particular, see George W. Bush's brief words on the situation between Russia and Georgia.)
8/11/2008
A Random Observation or Two Regarding John Edwards:
So, now that John Edwards has admitted he fucked around with Rielle Hunter, can we stop caring about poor people? 'Cause you can pretty much bet that the poverty tour Barack Obama promised he'd take in exchange for an Edwards endorsement is off. Even without the former Senator/VP nominee/P candidate along for the ride, any bus ride through Anal Rape, Arkansas or Crystal Meth, Montana or Shoot Snitches, Michigan would be mired in the stickiness of Edwards' semen.
Let's put aside for a moment the retarded, adolescent, Clintonesque narcissism of a man thinking he can run for President in this post-Clinton day and age and think that he can get away with an affair like Bill Clinton. Let's put aside the whole "is it his child or not" discussion. Let's put aside John McCain's extramarital fucking. Let's put aside Edwards' utter betrayal of all of his supporters by daring to attempt to become the nominee while this was still a secret (if the Rude Pundit had donated money to him, he'd be really fuckin' pissed).
In fact, let's put aside the sickening thought of "What if he had been nominated?" It wasn't gonna happen. Think about it: how many of the Democratic elders came out in support of Edwards this time around? Yeah, he got a bunch of endorsements, but any of the bigwigs? He was the vice-presidential nominee back in 2004, an obvious and safe choice for many. The extramarital fucking happened in 2006 (as far as we know so far). You don't think that Edwards was vetted to the nth degree? You think this was a secret to the party's leadership? Even when he was polling second to Clinton, there were precious few in the party willing to come out and endorse him. And once Obama became the story, there was little reason to bother.
But let's get a few things back on track here: John Edwards fucked the woman, not Barack Obama. The Sunday chat-o-causts were filled with people wondering how in the world John Edwards' nailing of Hunter would affect Obama's campaign. Over on Fox "news" Sunday, Chris Wallace, asking Illinois Senator Dick Durbin about if Edwards' coming in the orifice of a woman not his wife hurts Democrats, said, "The reason I ask is the revelation late in the 2006 campaign that Congressman — Republican Congressman Mark Foley had had relationships, involvement, with congressional pages seemed to be very damaging to the GOP in that election. What's the difference?" That's not the difference between apples and oranges. That's the difference between apples and sexual predators. Durbin should have just stared, appalled, like Wallace had just shat into his own hands and eaten it. The right is looking for another Reverend Wright to associate Obama with, and Edwards will serve for them until something better comes along.
So, yeah, John Edwards boned a nutsy New Age chick who probably fucked all tantric and shit and didn't call him on his self-loving bullshit the way Elizabeth does. (And, by the way, the great loss for the party this year is in silencing Elizabeth Edwards, who kicks multifarious ass in ways great and small.) However unjustly Edwards may have treated his wife, his causes are just.
In other words, who John Edwards fucks won't get anyone job training, education, food, or health care.
So, now that John Edwards has admitted he fucked around with Rielle Hunter, can we stop caring about poor people? 'Cause you can pretty much bet that the poverty tour Barack Obama promised he'd take in exchange for an Edwards endorsement is off. Even without the former Senator/VP nominee/P candidate along for the ride, any bus ride through Anal Rape, Arkansas or Crystal Meth, Montana or Shoot Snitches, Michigan would be mired in the stickiness of Edwards' semen.
Let's put aside for a moment the retarded, adolescent, Clintonesque narcissism of a man thinking he can run for President in this post-Clinton day and age and think that he can get away with an affair like Bill Clinton. Let's put aside the whole "is it his child or not" discussion. Let's put aside John McCain's extramarital fucking. Let's put aside Edwards' utter betrayal of all of his supporters by daring to attempt to become the nominee while this was still a secret (if the Rude Pundit had donated money to him, he'd be really fuckin' pissed).
In fact, let's put aside the sickening thought of "What if he had been nominated?" It wasn't gonna happen. Think about it: how many of the Democratic elders came out in support of Edwards this time around? Yeah, he got a bunch of endorsements, but any of the bigwigs? He was the vice-presidential nominee back in 2004, an obvious and safe choice for many. The extramarital fucking happened in 2006 (as far as we know so far). You don't think that Edwards was vetted to the nth degree? You think this was a secret to the party's leadership? Even when he was polling second to Clinton, there were precious few in the party willing to come out and endorse him. And once Obama became the story, there was little reason to bother.
But let's get a few things back on track here: John Edwards fucked the woman, not Barack Obama. The Sunday chat-o-causts were filled with people wondering how in the world John Edwards' nailing of Hunter would affect Obama's campaign. Over on Fox "news" Sunday, Chris Wallace, asking Illinois Senator Dick Durbin about if Edwards' coming in the orifice of a woman not his wife hurts Democrats, said, "The reason I ask is the revelation late in the 2006 campaign that Congressman — Republican Congressman Mark Foley had had relationships, involvement, with congressional pages seemed to be very damaging to the GOP in that election. What's the difference?" That's not the difference between apples and oranges. That's the difference between apples and sexual predators. Durbin should have just stared, appalled, like Wallace had just shat into his own hands and eaten it. The right is looking for another Reverend Wright to associate Obama with, and Edwards will serve for them until something better comes along.
So, yeah, John Edwards boned a nutsy New Age chick who probably fucked all tantric and shit and didn't call him on his self-loving bullshit the way Elizabeth does. (And, by the way, the great loss for the party this year is in silencing Elizabeth Edwards, who kicks multifarious ass in ways great and small.) However unjustly Edwards may have treated his wife, his causes are just.
In other words, who John Edwards fucks won't get anyone job training, education, food, or health care.
8/08/2008
Sixty-Six Months for Hamdan: A Sympathetic Narrative:
Let us concoct a narrative, a counternarrative, if you will, to what we've been told by the Pentagon. There's nothing saying it's true, but, hell, a fuckin' military jury said there's little true about the Bush administration's version of events:
Let us say, and why not, that you are Salim Hamdan, a Yemeni with a wife and children. You get a chance for a job that'll earn you many times what you'd ordinarily earn, but there's a hitch: you gotta be the driver and, occasionally, bodyguard for Osama bin Laden. You're faced with a choice. No, you won't have to commit terrorist acts. Indeed, you'd be pretty useless as a driver if you were off blowing yourself up. But you will be driving around, you know, Osama bin Laden. It's a suck ass situation, but in an area of the world where the line between rich and poor is stark and the options are small, you can make enough to support your family and make sure they don't fall into shame and poverty. You take the job.
Now, there you are, in 1996, driving one of the most wanted men in the world, from place to place. You may overhear shit, sure, shit that disturbs you. But you are also very clear on what happens to people who betray this man and this organization. And what might happen to their families. What would you choose? Those of you who think you're brave enough to watch your children get beheaded because you thought you could stop a terror plot are liars. Imagine what would have happened if Osama bin Laden's driver, fer chrissake, went to some authorities - which, in Afghanistan at that point would have been the Taliban or, perhaps, our friends in Pakistan, or, in the best case scenario, somehow to someone in the U.S. military - and said he had information and needed protection. How do you think that would have worked out?
This counternarrative posits the position that Salim Ahmed Hamdan placed himself in. It has sympathy for him, even if it doesn't forgive him. He did, after all, choose to take the job. Ask anyone who ever thought they could work for the mob for a small job and get out. Once you're in, you're in. Even if you never do anything else for them, your silence, and thus your complicity, willing or unwilling, is understood.
Just yesterday, the Rude Pundit said that the only thing that's surprising anymore is when something positive actually happens. Even against a backdrop of all he's been through in the last seven years, Hamdan's sentence is that good thing, and, as such, in our 2008 American context, it's a startling act of mercy.
We can expect the usual dullard bleats of conservative outrage and the crazy-eyes spin of the White House, but understand this: the judge and jury were handpicked by those who wanted Hamdan thrown into a hole and never heard from again. They were supposed to do Dick Cheney's bidding. The fix was supposed to be in. The prosecution wanted thirty years for Hamdan. Hell, many of the Nazis convicted at Nuremberg for planning or participating in real war crimes got lighter sentences.
No, we don't know when Hamdan might actually be released, but when the judge in the trial, Captain Keith Allred, told Hamdan, "I hope the day comes when you return to your wife and your daughters and your country," and joined him in speaking, "God willing" in Arabic, it was a direct "fuck you" to the civilian leadership at the Pentagon and the Bush administration as a whole. It was a way of acting as an example and asserting that, even against the inhumane, one can still behave humanely.
Let us concoct a narrative, a counternarrative, if you will, to what we've been told by the Pentagon. There's nothing saying it's true, but, hell, a fuckin' military jury said there's little true about the Bush administration's version of events:
Let us say, and why not, that you are Salim Hamdan, a Yemeni with a wife and children. You get a chance for a job that'll earn you many times what you'd ordinarily earn, but there's a hitch: you gotta be the driver and, occasionally, bodyguard for Osama bin Laden. You're faced with a choice. No, you won't have to commit terrorist acts. Indeed, you'd be pretty useless as a driver if you were off blowing yourself up. But you will be driving around, you know, Osama bin Laden. It's a suck ass situation, but in an area of the world where the line between rich and poor is stark and the options are small, you can make enough to support your family and make sure they don't fall into shame and poverty. You take the job.
Now, there you are, in 1996, driving one of the most wanted men in the world, from place to place. You may overhear shit, sure, shit that disturbs you. But you are also very clear on what happens to people who betray this man and this organization. And what might happen to their families. What would you choose? Those of you who think you're brave enough to watch your children get beheaded because you thought you could stop a terror plot are liars. Imagine what would have happened if Osama bin Laden's driver, fer chrissake, went to some authorities - which, in Afghanistan at that point would have been the Taliban or, perhaps, our friends in Pakistan, or, in the best case scenario, somehow to someone in the U.S. military - and said he had information and needed protection. How do you think that would have worked out?
This counternarrative posits the position that Salim Ahmed Hamdan placed himself in. It has sympathy for him, even if it doesn't forgive him. He did, after all, choose to take the job. Ask anyone who ever thought they could work for the mob for a small job and get out. Once you're in, you're in. Even if you never do anything else for them, your silence, and thus your complicity, willing or unwilling, is understood.
Just yesterday, the Rude Pundit said that the only thing that's surprising anymore is when something positive actually happens. Even against a backdrop of all he's been through in the last seven years, Hamdan's sentence is that good thing, and, as such, in our 2008 American context, it's a startling act of mercy.
We can expect the usual dullard bleats of conservative outrage and the crazy-eyes spin of the White House, but understand this: the judge and jury were handpicked by those who wanted Hamdan thrown into a hole and never heard from again. They were supposed to do Dick Cheney's bidding. The fix was supposed to be in. The prosecution wanted thirty years for Hamdan. Hell, many of the Nazis convicted at Nuremberg for planning or participating in real war crimes got lighter sentences.
No, we don't know when Hamdan might actually be released, but when the judge in the trial, Captain Keith Allred, told Hamdan, "I hope the day comes when you return to your wife and your daughters and your country," and joined him in speaking, "God willing" in Arabic, it was a direct "fuck you" to the civilian leadership at the Pentagon and the Bush administration as a whole. It was a way of acting as an example and asserting that, even against the inhumane, one can still behave humanely.
8/07/2008
Things That Ought To Be Surprising But Sadly Aren't:
Straight guys, you know how it goes. If it's not you, it's your friends, although at least part of the way, c'mon, it's you. When you're a kid, you can get off on a particularly sassy-looking underwear model in a Macy's ad. But pretty soon that's not enough. And you sneak a look at your first online naked woman, starting with the gracefully airbrushed artificial breasts and delicately photoshopped crotches of Playboy or something. Pretty soon that's not enough. So you make the leap to wide open legs, staring at pussy lips and glory holes as you yank it. You need more. You start heading over to the video sites, downloading fuck films, and there's an ascending order of intensity, each step of which you begin to need in order to even get hard, moving from straight-on fucking to blow jobs to anal to double and triple penetrations to gang bangs. Each time you move up a step, the previous ones are just worthless. You look at some pictures of the Girls of Wal-Mart or some such layout, and you think, "Gimme a break. I just watched a video of two chicks 69ing each other while getting fucked in the ass by a goat as twenty other dudes jack off and cover them with jizz." It's sad, how one can no longer appreciate the complex beauty of the curves and lines of the female body, how the thrill is, indeed, gone.
If we apply this analogy to America, today, in mid-2008, we've become a bloated twenty-five year old in a dark room who can't even masturbate to a snuff film of kidnapped adolescent Latino girls forced to fight naked to the death with machetes, cheered on by the local cops, and the winner gets chained up and raped repeatedly until she bleeds out and horribly expires. Nah, we think when someone shows us what they think is truly hardcore shit. What else ya got?
From Reagan to Bush to Bush, our political order of pornographic intensity, our capacity for shock has been lost. And, as the Rude Pundit has said before, mostly we're just surprised when something awful doesn't happen. Wait, you mean they're gonna let the girl go? Well, that's unexpected.
We have been hit again and again in the past couple of weeks with shit that oughta make the nation shut down until it's fixed. But that ain't gonna happen. To wit:
1. The verdict in the Gitmo "trial" (if by "trial," you mean "a process so rigged that it'd make Henry Gondorff wonder why he didn't think of it") that will, in all likelihood, send Salim Ahmed Hamdan to jail for life for driving Osama Bin Laden to his dialysis appointments, his beard salon, and his terror plot planning meetings. What oughta be surprising is that, even with information obtained from torture and secret meetings, he wasn't convicted of conspiracy to commit terrorism. Which means that, even with all the pieces, the Bush administration can't win a game.
2. The allegations in Ron Suskind's latest book that the White House ordered the CIA to fake a letter connecting Iraq and al-Qaeda and that Bush and Cheney knew that Iraq had no WMDs from information from Tony Blair, thus showing, once more, that we're at war for no discernible reason. Remember the days when, if a member of the Clinton administration was accused of farting in a church, it triggered ten congressional investigations, an independent counsel, and non-stop news coverage filled with witnesses attesting to how loud and noxious a fart it was and how Jesus cried tears of blood because of it? Good times.
3. The Iraqi government will have tens of billions of dollars in surplus funds by the end of the year. Now, this ain't about Iraq, which is only abiding by the rules set out by the United States. It's about those rules. Hey, here's an idea that's helpful, fun, and ironic: why doesn't Iraq start funding reconstruction projects in New Orleans, Minnesota, etc., etc., using only Iraqi contractors for the jobs.
And on and on, the constant thrum, the white noise, all drowned out by the presidential campaign because, despite the months of this administration left, nothing can break through the haze of depravity anymore.
Straight guys, you know how it goes. If it's not you, it's your friends, although at least part of the way, c'mon, it's you. When you're a kid, you can get off on a particularly sassy-looking underwear model in a Macy's ad. But pretty soon that's not enough. And you sneak a look at your first online naked woman, starting with the gracefully airbrushed artificial breasts and delicately photoshopped crotches of Playboy or something. Pretty soon that's not enough. So you make the leap to wide open legs, staring at pussy lips and glory holes as you yank it. You need more. You start heading over to the video sites, downloading fuck films, and there's an ascending order of intensity, each step of which you begin to need in order to even get hard, moving from straight-on fucking to blow jobs to anal to double and triple penetrations to gang bangs. Each time you move up a step, the previous ones are just worthless. You look at some pictures of the Girls of Wal-Mart or some such layout, and you think, "Gimme a break. I just watched a video of two chicks 69ing each other while getting fucked in the ass by a goat as twenty other dudes jack off and cover them with jizz." It's sad, how one can no longer appreciate the complex beauty of the curves and lines of the female body, how the thrill is, indeed, gone.
If we apply this analogy to America, today, in mid-2008, we've become a bloated twenty-five year old in a dark room who can't even masturbate to a snuff film of kidnapped adolescent Latino girls forced to fight naked to the death with machetes, cheered on by the local cops, and the winner gets chained up and raped repeatedly until she bleeds out and horribly expires. Nah, we think when someone shows us what they think is truly hardcore shit. What else ya got?
From Reagan to Bush to Bush, our political order of pornographic intensity, our capacity for shock has been lost. And, as the Rude Pundit has said before, mostly we're just surprised when something awful doesn't happen. Wait, you mean they're gonna let the girl go? Well, that's unexpected.
We have been hit again and again in the past couple of weeks with shit that oughta make the nation shut down until it's fixed. But that ain't gonna happen. To wit:
1. The verdict in the Gitmo "trial" (if by "trial," you mean "a process so rigged that it'd make Henry Gondorff wonder why he didn't think of it") that will, in all likelihood, send Salim Ahmed Hamdan to jail for life for driving Osama Bin Laden to his dialysis appointments, his beard salon, and his terror plot planning meetings. What oughta be surprising is that, even with information obtained from torture and secret meetings, he wasn't convicted of conspiracy to commit terrorism. Which means that, even with all the pieces, the Bush administration can't win a game.
2. The allegations in Ron Suskind's latest book that the White House ordered the CIA to fake a letter connecting Iraq and al-Qaeda and that Bush and Cheney knew that Iraq had no WMDs from information from Tony Blair, thus showing, once more, that we're at war for no discernible reason. Remember the days when, if a member of the Clinton administration was accused of farting in a church, it triggered ten congressional investigations, an independent counsel, and non-stop news coverage filled with witnesses attesting to how loud and noxious a fart it was and how Jesus cried tears of blood because of it? Good times.
3. The Iraqi government will have tens of billions of dollars in surplus funds by the end of the year. Now, this ain't about Iraq, which is only abiding by the rules set out by the United States. It's about those rules. Hey, here's an idea that's helpful, fun, and ironic: why doesn't Iraq start funding reconstruction projects in New Orleans, Minnesota, etc., etc., using only Iraqi contractors for the jobs.
And on and on, the constant thrum, the white noise, all drowned out by the presidential campaign because, despite the months of this administration left, nothing can break through the haze of depravity anymore.
8/06/2008
Why Does Conservative Spooge Bucket Kevin McCullough Hate Sex Education?:
As we have seen repeatedly, social conservatives are so angry and repressed from not getting fucked by a real human until well into their third or fourth decades that they not only want to prevent others from fucking, they don't even want kids knowing what fucking is, let alone how to do it safely. Indeed, sex education for them is not about how to use the condom, but how to condemn. It's a simple equation: sex before marriage bad, and if you ask any questions or explore further, well, that's why hell is for children.
Conservative spooge bucket Kevin McCullough is one of the most proudly tight-assed of the legion of tight asses. Over at the right-wing turd farm known as Townhall.com, in his latest "column" (if by "column," you mean, "the horrible brain screech of a man contemplating sticking his dick in a food processor to stop the evil thoughts"), McCullough attacks that favorite evangelical pinata, Planned Parenthood, by going after a website of theirs that McCullough says is filled with "the vulgar, profane, and exhibitionist creep-out factor of hardcore sexual suggestion."
In fact, here's McCullough in what can only be described as a "snit" over the site: "The website is base, profane, and far more intrusive to the innocence of your children's mind than you would ever allow ANYONE to be with them publicly. Worse yet it promotes an amoral, anti-faith, anti-values worldview that runs completely contrary to the Christianity that 70% of the nation purports to 'believe in.'" Ya gotta love that stat: sure, if asked what flavor of God they prefer to lick, most Americans'd say "Christian." But that doesn't mean they want chastity belts with crucified Jesus locks on their children.
Oh, the website itself? It's one of those "let's try to be hip" embarrassing kinds of things grown-ups do that they think will appeal to teenagers. Called TakeCareDownThere.org, it's mostly a series of video sketches about teens grappling with sex, including discussions of genitals, and...wait, let's just let McCullough describe it:
"In the most descriptive way possible without actually photographing it close up - the site depicts one teen boy giving another teen boy oral sex, another scene has one girl exposing her private parts to a room full of her friends asking each of them 'do you see anything "down there?"' There is a sketch on self stimulation, and one other with the oh so subtle title 'Threesome.'"
To emphasize here, there is no sex or nudity shown. It's all just gestures and discussion. In fact, the masturbation discussion is a pro-abstinence statement, featuring the intentionally intrusive and creepy grown-up guy (who appears in most of the videos) telling the self-loving girl's female friends to encourage her in her pursuit of the safest sex possible. (Creepy guy - or, as McCullough calls him, the"child-molesterish-looking character that some believe is based upon the porn star Ron Jeremy" - also serves to halt unprotected sex a couple of times.)
What is McCullough's problem with the site? It's that Planned Parenthood receives, quite indirectly, federal funding. McCullough ultimately doesn't want any funding going for sex education: "It is the parent's right and responsibility to decide when their own child is ready to learn what they need to about how to 'Take Care Down There.'" One might respond that those same allegedly responsible parents ought to monitor what their kids watch on the internet.
McCullough's fear of sex is so pervasive, so pronounced that one can only feel pity for his "Lovely Bride" (which he actually calls his wife). If this website is actually one of the most shocking and depraved things he's ever seen, one might imagine that poor Mrs. McCullough's thighs are bruised from Dear Hubby's failure to actually penetrate her. And both their pillows are soaked in tears.
As we have seen repeatedly, social conservatives are so angry and repressed from not getting fucked by a real human until well into their third or fourth decades that they not only want to prevent others from fucking, they don't even want kids knowing what fucking is, let alone how to do it safely. Indeed, sex education for them is not about how to use the condom, but how to condemn. It's a simple equation: sex before marriage bad, and if you ask any questions or explore further, well, that's why hell is for children.
Conservative spooge bucket Kevin McCullough is one of the most proudly tight-assed of the legion of tight asses. Over at the right-wing turd farm known as Townhall.com, in his latest "column" (if by "column," you mean, "the horrible brain screech of a man contemplating sticking his dick in a food processor to stop the evil thoughts"), McCullough attacks that favorite evangelical pinata, Planned Parenthood, by going after a website of theirs that McCullough says is filled with "the vulgar, profane, and exhibitionist creep-out factor of hardcore sexual suggestion."
In fact, here's McCullough in what can only be described as a "snit" over the site: "The website is base, profane, and far more intrusive to the innocence of your children's mind than you would ever allow ANYONE to be with them publicly. Worse yet it promotes an amoral, anti-faith, anti-values worldview that runs completely contrary to the Christianity that 70% of the nation purports to 'believe in.'" Ya gotta love that stat: sure, if asked what flavor of God they prefer to lick, most Americans'd say "Christian." But that doesn't mean they want chastity belts with crucified Jesus locks on their children.
Oh, the website itself? It's one of those "let's try to be hip" embarrassing kinds of things grown-ups do that they think will appeal to teenagers. Called TakeCareDownThere.org, it's mostly a series of video sketches about teens grappling with sex, including discussions of genitals, and...wait, let's just let McCullough describe it:
"In the most descriptive way possible without actually photographing it close up - the site depicts one teen boy giving another teen boy oral sex, another scene has one girl exposing her private parts to a room full of her friends asking each of them 'do you see anything "down there?"' There is a sketch on self stimulation, and one other with the oh so subtle title 'Threesome.'"
To emphasize here, there is no sex or nudity shown. It's all just gestures and discussion. In fact, the masturbation discussion is a pro-abstinence statement, featuring the intentionally intrusive and creepy grown-up guy (who appears in most of the videos) telling the self-loving girl's female friends to encourage her in her pursuit of the safest sex possible. (Creepy guy - or, as McCullough calls him, the"child-molesterish-looking character that some believe is based upon the porn star Ron Jeremy" - also serves to halt unprotected sex a couple of times.)
What is McCullough's problem with the site? It's that Planned Parenthood receives, quite indirectly, federal funding. McCullough ultimately doesn't want any funding going for sex education: "It is the parent's right and responsibility to decide when their own child is ready to learn what they need to about how to 'Take Care Down There.'" One might respond that those same allegedly responsible parents ought to monitor what their kids watch on the internet.
McCullough's fear of sex is so pervasive, so pronounced that one can only feel pity for his "Lovely Bride" (which he actually calls his wife). If this website is actually one of the most shocking and depraved things he's ever seen, one might imagine that poor Mrs. McCullough's thighs are bruised from Dear Hubby's failure to actually penetrate her. And both their pillows are soaked in tears.
8/05/2008
Hey, McCain Campaign: Here's What Actually Goes on in Sturgis During the Biker Rally (Updated):
(Strange as it may be for the Rude Pundit to say this, the links below contain images that are not safe for work. Really. And it's all for the sake of journalism and as a corrective to the PG-13 shit other websites are linking to about the Miss Buffalo Chip pageant.)
The Bike Rally in Sturgis, SD, where John McCain offered up his wife for the annual beauty pageant at the Buffalo Chip campground, is a favorite of public nudity photo and video aficionados, with DVDs for sale and websites out there just for the sake of showing biker chick nipples and pussy, including that on display on the very stage where McCain and his uncomfortable wife stood. Indeed, many people seem to go to the rally only because you're pretty much guaranteed to see boobs, painted and clean.
This is not to mention the drugs. Lots of them.
John McCain's cheery appearance there is a tacit approval of the event. And while the Rude Pundit and many of you may not give a shit how consenting adults have a fun time, there's a good chance a number of allegedly moralistic Republicans might. Unless, of course, they're just hypocritical assholes.
Update: Darrel Plant offers personal experience of why McCain just may have been in Sturgis.
(Strange as it may be for the Rude Pundit to say this, the links below contain images that are not safe for work. Really. And it's all for the sake of journalism and as a corrective to the PG-13 shit other websites are linking to about the Miss Buffalo Chip pageant.)
The Bike Rally in Sturgis, SD, where John McCain offered up his wife for the annual beauty pageant at the Buffalo Chip campground, is a favorite of public nudity photo and video aficionados, with DVDs for sale and websites out there just for the sake of showing biker chick nipples and pussy, including that on display on the very stage where McCain and his uncomfortable wife stood. Indeed, many people seem to go to the rally only because you're pretty much guaranteed to see boobs, painted and clean.
This is not to mention the drugs. Lots of them.
John McCain's cheery appearance there is a tacit approval of the event. And while the Rude Pundit and many of you may not give a shit how consenting adults have a fun time, there's a good chance a number of allegedly moralistic Republicans might. Unless, of course, they're just hypocritical assholes.
Update: Darrel Plant offers personal experience of why McCain just may have been in Sturgis.
Photos That Make the Rude Pundit Want to Unironically Down a Case of PBR:
That's John McCain speaking at the annual biker's rally in Sturgis, South Dakota, where several hundred thousand badasses and wannabe badasses and titty-watchers gather each year to celebrate biker culture, listen to has-been Southern rock bands, and watch titties. One might imagine there were more than a few Confederate flags a-flyin'.
But, hey, shit, McCain wants some working class cache', then he can leave one of his family's seven houses to stand on a stage next to Kid Rock's equipment at the Buffalo Chip Campground and work it. Said McCain, "As you know, not long ago a couple hundred thousand Berliners made a lot of noise for my opponent. I'll take the roar of 50,000 Harleys every day." Which would be awesome, except that only 20,000 people, out of the estimated half-million available, showed up, most of them on foot.
It was an odd place for McCain to speak on energy policy, and perhaps even odder for him to talk about how loathsome $4 a gallon gasoline was, considering that he was encouraging the bikers to waste gas to rev an engine for the Maverick. Nothing against the bikers: we all choose to spend money on the things that bring us joy - stereos, expensive vodka, clothes. Gas and oil for one's hog is no different than a wine connoisseur stocking up the cellar, and we all gotta deal when the price of our sins rises.
Then, in a disturbing repetition of the word "drill," McCain declared, "I'll tell you that when I'm president, we're not going to be paying $4 for gas. We're going to drill offshore, and we're going to drill now. My opponent doesn't want to drill. He doesn't want nuclear power. He wants you to inflate your tires." Which, for a bunch of bikers who, you know, understand this shit and keep their tires properly inflated for safety and gas mileage, probably wasn't quite the smackdown McCain wanted it to be.
McCain then went on to encourage wife Cindy to compete in the bikers' beauty pageant, offering, "I told her, with a little luck, she could be the only person ever to serve as first lady and Miss Buffalo Chip." Would she have excelled at the bikini, the lingerie, or the biker gear competition? And if she won, could we then expect a First Lady who was "essentially...topless...And occasionally bottomless, too"?
Of course, John McCain won't have to pay any price for making an appearance at an event known and celebrated for its public drunkenness and fucking for an audience, not to mention dressing like (and in some cases actually being) outlaws. Imagine if it was a bunch of black people doing this, booty-shakin' in thongs, wearing gang colors, and downing 40s, and Barack Obama showed up to speak, and you pretty much can assume that Bill O'Reilly's neck veins would pop and shower his set with arterial spray. But because it's good ol' boys and girls? Well, that's just goddamn American fun.
Yes, it was a fine day for the McCain campaign, with the candidate suggesting that his wife strip for the crowd and saluting the waste of gas, saying of the roar of engines, "It’s the sound of freedom," and, of course, dependency on foreign sources of oil.
That's John McCain speaking at the annual biker's rally in Sturgis, South Dakota, where several hundred thousand badasses and wannabe badasses and titty-watchers gather each year to celebrate biker culture, listen to has-been Southern rock bands, and watch titties. One might imagine there were more than a few Confederate flags a-flyin'.
But, hey, shit, McCain wants some working class cache', then he can leave one of his family's seven houses to stand on a stage next to Kid Rock's equipment at the Buffalo Chip Campground and work it. Said McCain, "As you know, not long ago a couple hundred thousand Berliners made a lot of noise for my opponent. I'll take the roar of 50,000 Harleys every day." Which would be awesome, except that only 20,000 people, out of the estimated half-million available, showed up, most of them on foot.
It was an odd place for McCain to speak on energy policy, and perhaps even odder for him to talk about how loathsome $4 a gallon gasoline was, considering that he was encouraging the bikers to waste gas to rev an engine for the Maverick. Nothing against the bikers: we all choose to spend money on the things that bring us joy - stereos, expensive vodka, clothes. Gas and oil for one's hog is no different than a wine connoisseur stocking up the cellar, and we all gotta deal when the price of our sins rises.
Then, in a disturbing repetition of the word "drill," McCain declared, "I'll tell you that when I'm president, we're not going to be paying $4 for gas. We're going to drill offshore, and we're going to drill now. My opponent doesn't want to drill. He doesn't want nuclear power. He wants you to inflate your tires." Which, for a bunch of bikers who, you know, understand this shit and keep their tires properly inflated for safety and gas mileage, probably wasn't quite the smackdown McCain wanted it to be.
McCain then went on to encourage wife Cindy to compete in the bikers' beauty pageant, offering, "I told her, with a little luck, she could be the only person ever to serve as first lady and Miss Buffalo Chip." Would she have excelled at the bikini, the lingerie, or the biker gear competition? And if she won, could we then expect a First Lady who was "essentially...topless...And occasionally bottomless, too"?
Of course, John McCain won't have to pay any price for making an appearance at an event known and celebrated for its public drunkenness and fucking for an audience, not to mention dressing like (and in some cases actually being) outlaws. Imagine if it was a bunch of black people doing this, booty-shakin' in thongs, wearing gang colors, and downing 40s, and Barack Obama showed up to speak, and you pretty much can assume that Bill O'Reilly's neck veins would pop and shower his set with arterial spray. But because it's good ol' boys and girls? Well, that's just goddamn American fun.
Yes, it was a fine day for the McCain campaign, with the candidate suggesting that his wife strip for the crowd and saluting the waste of gas, saying of the roar of engines, "It’s the sound of freedom," and, of course, dependency on foreign sources of oil.
8/04/2008
Big Humpin' Thanks to the NOLA Guest Bloggers:
While the Rude Pundit was away on vacation, sucking down crabs and trying to avoid them, his place was taken over by seven bloggers from the joyously savage and savagely joyous city of New Orleans, giving you a ground's eye view of the sad mix of contempt and neglect with which the Crescent City has been treated since Hurricane Katrina, nearly three years ago.
So huge damn thanks to Dangerblond of Dangerblond, Oyster of Your Right Hand Thief, Eli Ackerman of We Could Be Famous, G-Bitch of The G-Bitch Spot, Bigezbear of Bigezbear and Humid City, Lord David of Humid City, and Karen Gadbois of Squandered Heritage. Keep reading them because they'll keep the rage heating your heart even when the chill of fall brings hopes of hope.
While the Rude Pundit was away on vacation, sucking down crabs and trying to avoid them, his place was taken over by seven bloggers from the joyously savage and savagely joyous city of New Orleans, giving you a ground's eye view of the sad mix of contempt and neglect with which the Crescent City has been treated since Hurricane Katrina, nearly three years ago.
So huge damn thanks to Dangerblond of Dangerblond, Oyster of Your Right Hand Thief, Eli Ackerman of We Could Be Famous, G-Bitch of The G-Bitch Spot, Bigezbear of Bigezbear and Humid City, Lord David of Humid City, and Karen Gadbois of Squandered Heritage. Keep reading them because they'll keep the rage heating your heart even when the chill of fall brings hopes of hope.
This Is an Optimistic Post in That It Thinks John McCain Is a Cretin:
Here’s the moment of high-larity that the Rude Pundit is awaiting: it’s a week or so after the election in November. Barack Obama has won, handily, and yer TV and newspaper pundits everywhere are declaring how inevitable it all actually was, how McCain never really had a chance, and, in the name of balance, how one or two demographics actually make the race closer than it is. Back at the McCain manse in Arizona, a state he will not carry, Team Maverick is trying to figure out what went wrong, how a man with as much “experience” and how a man who was, didn’t the public know, a war hero because he got tortured, could possibly lose to this uppity upstart mulatto motherfucker.
Now here’s the really bust-yer-gut funny part. At some point around this time, John McCain will give a speech, maybe a press conference, but more likely a speech, and he will talk about why he lost, how he shouldn’t have listened to the consultants and Rove acolytes who urged him to treat Obama like the Illinois senator whistled at a Mississippi white woman. Oh, there will be regret in his voice, along with obligatory congratulations.
And McCain will once more be a pathetic figure of mythic proportions: the first time he ran for President, he was run over by a Peterbilt semi driven through the highways of South Caroline by Karl Rove; this time, he was supposed to be in the cab, but he handed over the wheel, and that eighteen-wheel motherfucker went over cliff, jumping a couple of dozen sharks on the way down. It’ll be funny, though, with botoxed Cindy by his side and his hot blogging daughter, a very small diminished man who couldn’t live up to his hype because it was, after all, just hype, a munchkin without a yellow brick to his name, a leprechaun bereft of gold-filled pot, the dwarf who missed out on Snow White’s graceful kisses.
Once McCain decided to get on his torture-stiffened knees and guzzle that Rove chowder like a tranny whore at a fireman’s bachelor party, he was once again signing enemy propaganda. Hell, his ads may as well call Obama a “black pirate,” as he once called himself. It was a lie then, so why not now?
McCain’s recent ad campaign and new “tough” tone is all bravado and trash-talking masking desperation and flop sweat. If you were playing poker with the man, he’d be the guy to go all in again and again on a bluff, Sure, it’s a strategy, but it’s gonna bite you in the ass more times than it makes you walk away with the pot. ‘Cause hardcore motherfuckers will call your bluff when you really want them to fold. The celebrity ad with the Britney/Barack/Paris axis of evil? As pussy an ad as anyone has ever put out. It’s the equivalent of saying that the student council president got elected because she was just a popular girl. No shit, she’s popular. That’s why they call it “popular vote.” You gotta be popular to win it. (And isn't there something viscerally disturbing at the thought of McCain "approving" an ad with vagina-flashing twentysomethings?)
We are at the point in the election cycle where, unless there’s some absolutely stunning revelation, like a video of Barack Obama in an orgy where he’s fucking white women wearing Ronald Reagan masks, we know that Obama’s gonna be elected. It's just three more months of McCain lobbing shit at him like an Orbit gum commercial from hell. Also, the voting public ain't gonna take too kindly to three months of being told that Barack Obama is a publicity whore who thinks he's better than them. You can rest assured, though, that the ads are gonna get worse and worse until the hints aren't even subtle: a reference to his "shiny" smile and a couple of bongo beats is all it'd take. Still, ya gotta think, at some point, McCain's gonna have to offer a plan, which will be the doom of his campaign.
Buck up, worried liberals. This was over a long time ago. Of course the polls are gonna tighten like McCain's urethra. That's because we haven't reached the benchmark image of Obama and McCain appearing on stage together with the nation watching, getting to that "Oh, fuck" moment of "Who do you wanna have to look at for the next four years? Denzel or the Cryptkeeper?"
Caveat: Obama could still fuck it up. Badly. More on that later.
Here’s the moment of high-larity that the Rude Pundit is awaiting: it’s a week or so after the election in November. Barack Obama has won, handily, and yer TV and newspaper pundits everywhere are declaring how inevitable it all actually was, how McCain never really had a chance, and, in the name of balance, how one or two demographics actually make the race closer than it is. Back at the McCain manse in Arizona, a state he will not carry, Team Maverick is trying to figure out what went wrong, how a man with as much “experience” and how a man who was, didn’t the public know, a war hero because he got tortured, could possibly lose to this uppity upstart mulatto motherfucker.
Now here’s the really bust-yer-gut funny part. At some point around this time, John McCain will give a speech, maybe a press conference, but more likely a speech, and he will talk about why he lost, how he shouldn’t have listened to the consultants and Rove acolytes who urged him to treat Obama like the Illinois senator whistled at a Mississippi white woman. Oh, there will be regret in his voice, along with obligatory congratulations.
And McCain will once more be a pathetic figure of mythic proportions: the first time he ran for President, he was run over by a Peterbilt semi driven through the highways of South Caroline by Karl Rove; this time, he was supposed to be in the cab, but he handed over the wheel, and that eighteen-wheel motherfucker went over cliff, jumping a couple of dozen sharks on the way down. It’ll be funny, though, with botoxed Cindy by his side and his hot blogging daughter, a very small diminished man who couldn’t live up to his hype because it was, after all, just hype, a munchkin without a yellow brick to his name, a leprechaun bereft of gold-filled pot, the dwarf who missed out on Snow White’s graceful kisses.
Once McCain decided to get on his torture-stiffened knees and guzzle that Rove chowder like a tranny whore at a fireman’s bachelor party, he was once again signing enemy propaganda. Hell, his ads may as well call Obama a “black pirate,” as he once called himself. It was a lie then, so why not now?
McCain’s recent ad campaign and new “tough” tone is all bravado and trash-talking masking desperation and flop sweat. If you were playing poker with the man, he’d be the guy to go all in again and again on a bluff, Sure, it’s a strategy, but it’s gonna bite you in the ass more times than it makes you walk away with the pot. ‘Cause hardcore motherfuckers will call your bluff when you really want them to fold. The celebrity ad with the Britney/Barack/Paris axis of evil? As pussy an ad as anyone has ever put out. It’s the equivalent of saying that the student council president got elected because she was just a popular girl. No shit, she’s popular. That’s why they call it “popular vote.” You gotta be popular to win it. (And isn't there something viscerally disturbing at the thought of McCain "approving" an ad with vagina-flashing twentysomethings?)
We are at the point in the election cycle where, unless there’s some absolutely stunning revelation, like a video of Barack Obama in an orgy where he’s fucking white women wearing Ronald Reagan masks, we know that Obama’s gonna be elected. It's just three more months of McCain lobbing shit at him like an Orbit gum commercial from hell. Also, the voting public ain't gonna take too kindly to three months of being told that Barack Obama is a publicity whore who thinks he's better than them. You can rest assured, though, that the ads are gonna get worse and worse until the hints aren't even subtle: a reference to his "shiny" smile and a couple of bongo beats is all it'd take. Still, ya gotta think, at some point, McCain's gonna have to offer a plan, which will be the doom of his campaign.
Buck up, worried liberals. This was over a long time ago. Of course the polls are gonna tighten like McCain's urethra. That's because we haven't reached the benchmark image of Obama and McCain appearing on stage together with the nation watching, getting to that "Oh, fuck" moment of "Who do you wanna have to look at for the next four years? Denzel or the Cryptkeeper?"
Caveat: Obama could still fuck it up. Badly. More on that later.
8/01/2008
August is the cruelest month...
In May of 2005 I was diagnosed with Breast Cancer and in August of 2005 after the second round of chemo my husband and I decided to evacuate for Hurricane Katrina. We didn't have a logical conversation instead it was mostly a series of fights all culminating with the decision that spending 12 hours in a car with 2 dogs, our daughter and me laying on the floor vomiting would be better than any amount of time spent with no air conditioning.
We ended up in Austin, and eventually the Convention Center. Where I had the good fortune to get up close and personal with Dick Cheney. We had been "banded" and were able to enter the outer perimeter of the Convention Center, which was like being in the cheap seats of Dante's Inferno. They had locked all the entry doors and unfortunately locked us out. So while I puked my way around the outside trying to get back in Dick was showing his compassionate conservatism for the cameras. As we rounded the corner I got close enough to tell Dick to go fuck himself as he exited.
That was the day I got mad and that was probably the day that Karl Rove was plotting the spin that would damm New Orleanians to hell, for just being people.
As time passed and we returned to New Orleans and our flooded house I figured recovery meant cleaning up your shit, helping some other people clean up their shit and then get back to the business of just having a life.
I had no idea I would turn into a recovery zealot and watchdog. Uncovering the non policy of demolishing people's houses while they waited to figure out the nightmare of Insurance, and The Road {from hell} Home.
As we continued to watch the bulldozer death march we tried to figure out if it was plain old dumb or something more sinister. What we discovered was a mixture of both. We were so glad CNN showed up to whore us out for the Second Anniversary Special, our thinking was the City would sit up and take notice, they did not.
So we spent the next year in trench warfare with the City, fighting for each house one by one, and while we were fighting we heard about this great program which would provide free gutting for Seniors, we looked for results and when we did we found a hornets nest of corruption and malfeasance.
And finally they noticed us, the bloggers the fanatics the virtual tribe of warriors. We stood up and we will not sit down again.
Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world. Indeed, it's the only thing that ever has.
-Margaret Mead
Or to paraphrase : Never underestimate that a small group of pissed off citizens can change your City.
In Memory of Ashley
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