Monday, June 28, 2010

I Crap Bigger'n You

I keep getting struck by how much of an odious fuck is Jeffrey Goldberg. Glenn Greenwald dismantles his entire journalistic career - enthusiastic stenography in the run-up to Iraq (and since then) as well as vicious, IDF-protecting nonsense - and Goldberg responds by kicking the ball across the field and talking about how Greenwald has never been to Kurdistan. What this is meant to prove is that even if all of the reasons listed for going into Iraq were wrong, we were still right to go because Hussein was a genocidal maniac (as if that's ever been a priority for American military intervention), even though it's a red herring. Of course, it's also saying Greenwald can't possibly be right because he's never been to Iraq or Kurdistan, which is, of course, why we always judge someone's rightness or wrongness based on their physical proximity to the event in question. It's a juvenile debate tactic, akin to whipping out one's dick and a tape measure. Only, to extend an-already-strained metaphor, it's in response to Greenwald saying Goldberg's hat doesn't fit.

Wednesday, June 23, 2010

Shorter Powerline


"Police in the heavily Arab Detroit suburb of Dearborn say they arrested four Christian missionaries for disorderly conduct at an Arab cultural festival.

Police Chief Ron Haddad says his department made the arrests Friday. The four are free on bond."

That's the entirety of the article quoted by Powerline. Of course, to them, Muslims handing out copies of the Koran at the entrance to a church festival would be yet further proof of creeping Islamism. But, this is feeling pretty thin to me, mostly because I cherry-picked some stupid bullshit, so here's a picture of an angry God.

Minerals Management and Mental Midgets

Because they have no interest in nuance, many conservatives are arguing that issuing a blanket moratorium on drilling at depths greater than 500 feet is exactly like grounding all airplanes because one crashed. For the benefit of all, I will show how an actual analogy works: If it turns out an airplane crashed because of a failed sprocket, and it turns out that sprocket had never been safety tested because the safety regulations in the industry had been thoroughly gutted, and further, it was likely that most other airplanes had similar sprockets that had never been safety-tested, you're god damn right the government would ground all of those airplanes pending inspections, or else it would be criminally negligent. (Also, if a judge who owned stock in a few airlines struck down the order grounding all of those planes and you defend him by saying a lot of people own stock in airlines, you're not exactly disproving a serious conflict of interest)

Basically, what people like this numbnuts are saying is that even if all of these rigs went up at a time when the regulatory body was so completely corrupted as to be made into a cheerleading organization for the industry, it doesn't matter if they're safe or not because they're grandfathered in and there's nothing you can do about it so nyah nyah. Which makes about as much sense as saying, "You can't prosecute me for murder! I paid off that cop to keep it quiet!"

Saturday, June 19, 2010

Mark Steyn's Gonna Kick Down A Little Thing to You...

That Mort Zuckerman kicked down to him.

Shorter Steyn:

"You put strawman in my bandwagon!"

He goes on to say, "The question is whether these 'influential people' are sufficiently chastened to examine in any meaningful way which of their own biases caused them to think a community organizer with no executive experience and more memoirs than accomplishments was just what the world's superpower needed."

Also: "Sarah Palin fap fap fap fap fap"

Wednesday, June 09, 2010

My Much Belated Tribute to Jon Swift

Jon Swift passed away a few months ago, and one of his funniest posts was on his numerous Amazon Reviews that were mostly scrubbed from the site because they were satirical.

Because I had looked at a few books by W. Cleon Skousen* just to make sure the man was as crazy as I thought, I came across Andrew Allison's hilariously scrubbed entry on Ben Franklin for the Center of National Constitutional Studies, which seeks to make secular saints of the founding fathers, completely scrubbing their bios of any "progressive" leanings or moral failings. After looking at a few of the real reviews, I couldn't resist writing my own Jon Swift review. Here it is, for I'm sure it won't last long:

I have not actually read this book but it's clear that Mr. Allison is a Great American who knows that our Founding Fathers were America's Patron Saints because like the Saints what they did was miraculous and unpopular and now with the benefit of hindsight we can truly see that they were not products of their time but right-thinking individuals who knew slavery had to be protected at the time or else America would have folded and We the People would be speaking chinese now. As a conservative, I am truly disappointed in people who want to paint Mr. Franklin as a pervert because it is clear he was a Great Man and True Great Men are never beset by immoral behavior because they dedicate all of their actions in Jesus' Name. Mr. Franklin would have been an Apostle and its really disappointing to hear liberals tear him down and accuse him of ABHORRENT behavior. Here's what I want to say to liberals -- before you make accusations against Mr. Franklin, remember he has descendants who are still living and would be very hurt to hear your namecalling. And also, READ A BOOK ABOUT HIM before you make any more insinuations. Seriously.

*This post is actually edited from the comment, as I absentmindedly credited Skousen for the book. The comment, should it appear, is unedited in all of its embarrassingly mistakenly-attributed glory.

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Cat post!!!!

Today, as I rose, my twenty-seven year old tabby, Pythagorus, looked up to me as if to say, 'Good morning, sir!' I snapped a picture for my felow feline enf(!)usiasts.

Friday, November 13, 2009

To my friend Sam...*

...seated on a stoop at some bar in South Carolina. The scene is heavy with people of poor repute. A man with a bloated gullet drinks bourbon from a tiny bottle. College boys call an older lady with a back tattoo a project, a mountain to be mounted. The older lady calls them boys. In the dark corner of the bar, men with thin mustaches sit cross-legged. They bid bad wishes to another lost week. From the rafters hang Chinese lanterns, because a planner with a taste in gauche things thought it would look good with the Italian movie posters on the walls.

Far off friends are drinking vodka tonics in colder weather, complaining about the price of pre-school these days. Friends across the table raise another shot of Wild Turkey. Loosened by booze, one of them plans to take home the foam-board portrait of a beautiful woman in a Santa suit featured prominently at the front of the bar.

This city, a bastion of some lost form of politics, some ghastly, be-wigged Toryism, sits idly by Charleston harbor. An opalescent moon dances drunkenly in the water. Wheels clutter over cobblestone roads. Horns blow hoarsely at a city carriage that has lost its driver. It careens off the curb in front of the cantilevered bar that sits seemingly lower than its neighbors, sinking towards the street.

To Micronesia! someone shouts loudly, and the sound carries out and dies off in the myth-like night.

*Written in the most florid, cringe-inducing prose possible

Monday, May 04, 2009


The best thing about the Wolverine movie is that it won't inspire an interminable discussion of how it's a parable for the fucking war on terror.