Saturday, December 29, 2007

Misanthropic Miscellany

Look closely here; it's a tattoo. One of many, and not the most egregrious, to be found here. You've been warned.

In an unrelated matter, Spencer Ackerman, late of Josh Marshall's burgeoning media empire, does a pretty good trashing, in his private blog, of the upcoming book by Jonah Goldberg (who makes the Two Minutes Hate look... not thorough enough). But he includes this thought-provoking assertion: "To damn American conservatism with faint praise, it ain't Nazism. Only an idiot would say it is." Well, no I suppose it's not Nazism, just as a fetus is not a baby, or perhaps, a mole is not a melanoma. But give it time. It is precisely the same sort of Kleptocracy, and its life force is cruelty, so watch out world. But I guess the rest of the Murdoch-Free world knows this.

Last night I watched Now on PBS. It had a scenic but mildly annoying segment on a proposed wilderness area in Idaho. The subtext seemed to be how laudable it was that the environmentalists and the Dittoheads were working on a compromise that would allow some development and ATV use in the wilderness area. I'm fairly sure those compromising from the left will very soon find themselves "date-raped," a la Grover Norquist. But in any case, the folks who spoke on the segment for ATV access were Exhibit A for the Darwin Award coming America's way: fat, stupid, lazy, complacent, and above all, entitled. Big asteroid, now please.

Finally, Bill Kristol is coming to the New York Times. Yeah sure -- I mean, why not hire a smug rich asshole who's consistently and destructively wrong about nearly everything and a lying sack of shit in the bargain to classy up your editorial pages. Plus of course there's the way he's publicly trashed the people who are about to start paying, and much, much more important, validating him. As the Bushies increasingly impose their bizarro undimensionality on the time/space continuum it becomes harder and harder to even remember what irony was. Things meld into their antonyms. Their naked hostility, in the way these things will, brings about mirroring, so paranoia among their foes becomes simple due diligence. Inside this event horizon it becomes possible, or perhaps even necessary to see the brilliance of Ann Coulter, vis a vis the Grey Lady.

Where's that fucking asteroid?


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