Bedwetters' Brigade

A natural result of having a far-too-long electoral campaign season is the spate of "oh shit" sentiments among the faithful, the so-called bedwetters. I'll count myself among the number of folks who find themselves enormously frustrated with the closeness of the polls, while still maintaining a fairly strong conviction that HFC, despite her flaws and over-familiarity, and despite having the media refs basically working against her with their false equivalences and mindless squirrel-chasing, will win. It'll be close, but the math dictates that she should win, in spite of everything.

It's important to recall that at this time in 2008, Obama and McCain were virtually deadlocked; Obama did not start pulling away until after the first debate, and really did not surpass the margin of error until the end of September. And 2012 was even worse -- the Rmoney/Ryan ticket led polling throughout October, frequently exceeding the MOE.

The real source of the bedwetting right now, aside from the unusually high stakes of the election and volatility of the polls, is that the campaign has revealed (or rather, confirmed) two extremely troubling factors:

1. The media, aside from a few notable exceptions, are too caught up in the "narrative" to check facts, call lies, and maintain a sense of proportion between the two candidates;
2. There is an even more substantial portion of the electorate that is comprised of racists and/or morons than previously assumed.

Rather than obsessing over the daily poll fluctuations, it's better to look at market averages such as Predictwise and the RCP average of polls, to get a much more realistic picture of what's going on. Right now, HFC is hovering at about 70% chance of getting elected, while the RCP average has her at just +1.5%, which could be cause for alarm, until you factor the above contemporaneous polling from '08 and '12, and remember that the first (and most important) debate is still over a week away. The pendulum will swing again.

One more thing to keep in mind, that I haven't seen mentioned in the media -- while you probably have heard that many potential Drumpf voters are reluctant or embarrassed to admit it, thus skewing the polls, given HFC's unfavorability numbers, there's a pretty good chance that the same phenomenon exists on her side of the fence as well. For example, a married couple where the husband wants him some Clownstick, but the wife really doesn't, she may just be holding her tongue and nodding "yes, dear" until the magic day where she can nullify his vote. I think those two groups, however prevalent they actually are, will end up being roughly equal in size, and thus will cancel each other out.

The "enthusiasm gap" between the two candidates exists, but only in the sense that on the HFC side, you don't have a bunch of borderline retards saying ricockulous things like gawwwd sint ahr candit ta sayve da cuhntree. I may not be enthused for Hillary herself, but I am more than enthused to send Drumpf and his shit-sack of deplorables -- and yes, they are fucking detestable, deplorable, contemptible excuses for oxygen-wasting fucktards, not half but all of them -- back home with their vestigial tails between their legs. I am as enthused about that as I was for voting for Obama in 2008. So take that into your conventional wisdom and shove it sideways, horse-race media.

There's plenty of time to go, it's difficult to conceive of an obnoxious asshole like Drumpf converting any remaining fence-sitters, and he gives HFC's team ad copy to work with pretty much every day. A strong performance by HFC in the debate, and some ad brutality throughout October should turn the tide. It would be nice if more voters were sane, and the media did their job, but barring some major weirdness (I know, I know) the Republic should survive, and send Clownstick and his shitbird family back to their comic-book-villain tower.

If only things went more smoothly, the Drumpfkins might get the massive blowout they truly deserve. But we can live with them just getting beaten.

Drumpf'd Too: Fuckface Boogaloo

WaPo's Chris Cillizza gets points, I suppose, for engaging with Norm Ornstein over the latter's critique of the media's handling of the Drumpf campaign overall, yet Cillizza remains willfully obtuse to what Ornstein is trying to tell him. Ornstein correctly cites the reporting of the Post's David Fahrenthold as exemplary, as well as this week's Newsweek article by Kurt Eichenwald about the Drumpf Org's massive conflicts of interest around the world, frequently with hostile governments and/or crucial geopolitical interests.

This is not a small point; it is the essence of the scampaign coverage. Consider the events of the last couple weeks, give or take, regarding the Drumpf scampaign:

1. Fahrenthold's reportage uncovered a direct link between the Drumpf Foundation's completely illegal "donation" to Florida AG Pam Bondi, just four days before Bondi's office graciously decided not to pursue fraud investigations against Drumpf University;
2. Fahrenthold's reportage also showed conclusively that the Drumpf Foundation itself is a racket. Not only does its namesake not contribute a thin dime to the foundation, but in one instance, accepted an award from the Palm Beach Police Association, based on a "gift" from the foundation that came entirely from another charitable organization. The event was held at Drumpf's dump in Florida, for which the PBPA was charged over a quarter-million dollars.;
3. Eichenwald's Newsweek article, which is thorough and exhaustive and therefore will get short shrift.

So think about these revelations for a moment, particularly those from Fahrenthold's articles. The guy's "foundation" is transparently a fraudulent slush fund, one that its founder contributes nothing to, merely funneling other people's checks and taking the credit. As if that wasn't bad enough, he uses it to bribe elected officials, buy paintings and souvenirs for himself, and even sticks it to the organizations giving him an award for being such a fucking humanitarian. But the media chase after the Clinton Foundation because Drumpf claims it is "pay-to-play," without at all pointing out the insane levels of hypocrisy and criminality on his side.

They could have covered all that and more. Instead they spent that entire time obsessing over HFC's health scare, dutifully reporting on Drumpf's visit to "Doctor" Oz's teevee show, and getting hilariously gulled into helping this cheap fucker promote his new hotel. Smooth move, guys. No wonder everyone despises you. You're hurting America, whether you realize it or not. Your mewling, pathetic excuses won't help you when this piece of shit wins. You are enabling horrible people, full stop.

It's understandable why Cillizza fails to see the dynamic at large, preferring instead to focus on the few bright spots, but still not asking why, for example, no other leading media entities have picked up on Fahrenthold's and Eichenwald's in-depth reporting. It's inexcusable, yet Cillizza insists on making excuses.

Well, like I said before, it's fuck-or-walk time, and they need to start reporting things as they are, and stop giving Drumpf an unearned curve and start reporting his LIES as such, every time, and see what effect that has on the electorate. Or they can keep doing what they're doing, get Drumpf elected with their even-handed ineptitude, and learn to bend the knee or get against the wall.

Your choice, folks.

Spit Roast

The Comedy Central celebrity roasts are one of my guilty pleasures over the years, though less and less so. The success of these events depends entirely on the people on the dais, roastee and roasters alike. Usually there is at least one roaster who is not a professional comedian, to provide some novelty. This time around, for the roast of Rob Lowe, that novelty roaster was infamous right-wing comic troll Ann Coulter.

There's no doubt that much of the invective lobbed at Coulter was mean and petty, but that's the vibe of such things to begin with. And if anyone brings that shit on themselves, it's Ann Coulter. Come on. Comparing the cracks about Coulter to the recent internet wilding of Leslie Jones is (once again) a case of completely misrepresenting the proportionality of the two situations.

I'm not saying that Coulter deserves necessarily every nasty thing ever written or said about her. But she has made a career out of going out of her way to be an obnoxious asshole. No one should be surprised that she invites that scale and degree of vituperation, when she openly revels in and encourages the same. Leslie Jones, on the other hand, committed the high crime of being in an all-female remake of perhaps the most overrated movie of all time, a perfectly decent comedy that has somehow become The Most Important Thang Evar in the Mountain-Dew-and-Adderall-soaked pea-brains of the MRA sub-reddits. Talk about having no sense of proportion.

Of course, what the article is really asking is whether the roasts would be missed terribly, and the answer is no. Most of the material is the usual gay/fat/old jokes, roughly the same level as your average "momma" joke. The catharsis is in supposedly watching someone famous get cut down to size.

Perhaps the most famous recent (and yugely telling) example of self-censorship at the supposedly no-holds-barred proceedings was in the 2011 roast of none other than Cheetolini himself. The roast was bizarrely tame, compared with most others, but supposedly the only thing off-limits was jokes insinuating that Clownstick isn't really as wealthy as he claims to be. Truth spoken in jest?

Drumpf'd

There is some small joy watching the idiot corporate media get suckered time and again by this incompetent con-man. After all, since they are largely incompetent as well, it just becomes a matter of being the first to make a move, and they will automatically, heedlessly follow, much the way your dog follows your hand because there might be a treat in it.

Now the media morons are all butt-hurt over this latest stunt, suddenly realizing they're Tina to Drumpf's Ike. Well, guess what, dummies:  he's been doing this to you for over a year, while the rest of us have watched and wondered, over and over again, why you can't just leave the brute. Now he's left a bruise, apparently. HE TRICKED US, YOU GUYS!

It wasn't the herding of them into pens at the rallies for the past year, like farm animals, waiting for the ancient, addled ungulates populating the building to waddle by periodically and hurl insults and spit at them, on cue from their wampeter. It wasn't the constant lying, evading, refusing to answer the simplest of questions honestly, openly defying them to simply do their jobs and empirically call him the fucking liar that he's been since the day he sprung forth from his mother's overworked asshole. No, it was the rickrolling that everyone saw coming up the road, punctuated with another pile of easily refuted, self-serving LIES.

Foundation and Empire

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Never Forget

On the 15th anniversary of the Twin Towers collapsing, it's interesting that this little nugget surfaces. What a disgusting piece of shit he is. If there was a god, the planes would have hit Gump Tower instead. If this doesn't do this worthless cocksucker in -- and don't worry, it won't; the Matt Lauers of the world will see to that -- I don't know what will. He's lucky there's no such thing as karma, or he'd be one of those melting Nazis at the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark.

Spread this one around far and wide, folks -- let's bring this fucker down, once and for all. He can take his fambly valyews lies and choke on them.

No More Excuses

In case you've been wondering all summer how a smart, accomplished candidate like Hillary Clinton could possibly lose against a comic-book villain with a mystery pelt stitched to the top of his head, this is how it happens. Coupled with the fact that the polls continue to get more and more worrisome, maybe it's time to get crackin' a little harder on this thing.

Look, we all get that nothing in this is fair. It's unfair that HFC is running neck-and-neck against this certifiable moron in the first place. It's unfair that the media refs hold them to completely different standards on everything. He's allowed to talk shit about anything and anyone with no consequences, she's forced to quickly apologize for supposedly insulting a group of people who richly deserve much worse. She has to contend with cheap rumor-mongering about her health, while he -- a fat, jowly seventy-year-old man -- gets away with a doctor's note that could have been forged by your average fifth-grader. Oh, but he's going on "Doctor" Oz this week to sift through his stool, so there's that.

Job Qualification

It's interesting to see just how indignant some media folks are over Matt Lauer's passive, enabling "candidate forum" the other night. It's as if they expected some other -- any other -- outcome from having a morning-show hack from a key corporate media monopoly "interview" a reality-teevee actor from one of that same network's shows from the past decade. Did anyone expect anything other than inept softballs?

I mean, yes, Lauer is certainly welcome to fuck off and die; that shitshow the other night was just a ramped-up continuation of what Lauer has done his entire career, which is to hurt America. And now that hurt is on the verge of becoming quite literal. Not that it hurts Lauer, of course; he makes more money in a year than you and I will see in our entire lives. The only thing that would hurt him is if he lost his elite status.

People who fancy themselves as media-watchers, implying that they are savvy to what the corporate media minions are really all about, miss the point by a mile when they start trying to suss out the political preferences of this or that reporter. I have no idea whether Lauer considers himself liberal or conservative, Republican or Democrat. Probably votes Democrat more often than not, maybe even fancies himself a good and generous citizen by contributing to the Clinton Foundation, if properly invited to the appropriate appletini soiree in the Hamptons. Whatever. Such considerations are irrelevant.

Curbing Their Enthusiasm

This is how you end up losing to spoiled morons who aren't even smart enough to photoshop their fakes properly:

Hillary Clinton expressed "regret" Saturday for comments in which she said "half" of Donald Trump's supporters are "deplorables," meaning people who are racist, sexist, homophobic or xenophobic.

"Last night I was 'grossly generalistic,' and that's never a good idea. I regret saying 'half' -- that was wrong," Clinton said in a statement in which she also vowed to call out "bigotry" in Trump's campaign.

Jesus Fucking Christ. What has been Drumpf's defining characteristic, not just during his scampaign, but his entire adult life? Never admit error, never give an inch, no matter how small or stupid or inconsequential, or blatantly obvious a lie it is. If anything, double down. His retard flock have no idea what he stands for -- even Drumpf has no idea what he stands for, as that changes day to day, sentence to sentence but they love him for that. They will follow him over a cliff, while he tells them it's not a cliff.

Curbing Their Enthusiasm

This is how you end up losing to spoiled morons who aren't even smart enough to photoshop their fakes properly:

Hillary Clinton expressed "regret" Saturday for comments in which she said "half" of Donald Trump's supporters are "deplorables," meaning people who are racist, sexist, homophobic or xenophobic.

"Last night I was 'grossly generalistic,' and that's never a good idea. I regret saying 'half' -- that was wrong," Clinton said in a statement in which she also vowed to call out "bigotry" in Trump's campaign.

Jesus Fucking Christ. What has been Drumpf's defining characteristic, not just during his scampaign, but his entire adult life? Never admit error, never give an inch, no matter how small or stupid or inconsequential, or blatantly obvious a lie it is. If anything, double down. His retard flock have no idea what he stands for -- even Drumpf has no idea what he stands for, as that changes day to day, sentence to sentence but they love him for that. They will follow him over a cliff, while he tells them it's not a cliff.

Got Woke

Jim Wright has far and away (afaik) the best and most complete take on (cue cheesy Ludlum title generator) The Kaepernick Kerfuffle. Kaepernick's rabid Facebook detractors proclaim that the song and flag worship that introduces professional sporting events is all about Respect. Well, clearly Kaepernick -- and now professional soccer player Megan Rapinoe -- feel that respect is a two-way street, that is something that must be earned, and not given mindlessly. And sometimes individuals might feel that they're not given the same respect that is demanded of them by their country.

The idea that the flag or the anthem stand for freedom and liberty is a nice one, but one that falls on its face when it's only for approved freedoms and liberties. The right to dissent or protest is even more important than the right to simply go along with the rest of the stadium. Anyone can do that; it take guts to decide not to do the (ahem) politically correct thing.

Now, to play devil's advocate, one should also note that if Kaepernick is trying to start a "conversation" or a "dialogue," there were and are any number of better ways to go about that. He is, after all, an NFL quarterback who came within thirty seconds and a dropped pass from winning a Super Bowl just a few years ago. Any number of reputable Bay Area journalists would have been happy to sit down and interview him, if he wanted to start a discussion on race. Performing provocative stunts like wearing socks with pigs wearing police caps, or pointedly sitting down through the national anthem, tend to (you'll be surprised to find) provoke something other than reasoned discourse.

Pogo Was an Optimist

We can chicken-egg this until the end of time, if we want to avoid the cold, hard, truth, but there it is all the same:  if the media (in the aggregate) suck, if they're incomplete or unfair in their coverage comparing the two candidates, it's because we (in the aggregate) suck, because we're willing to put up with such a low bar.

You can jabber on about Gish Gallops and Bradley Effects and such like until you're blue in the face. But none of it changes the fact that there are enough morons bringing and keeping Drumpf in contention, enough bozos to read only the "news" they already agree with.

The problem is that there are too many people out there who live in absolute certitude, who know just as surely as they know they have an imaginary sky-buddy looking out for their destitute little hamster lives, that they already know everything that is worth knowing. There is nothing new for them to learn, especially if it's something that would exculpate HFC, or conversely might add to the already impossibly high stack of shit that constitutes Clownstick's lies, his shit business record, his unethical use of money from his bullshit "Human Fund" foundation that he doesn't even donate any of his own money to.

10 More Questions for Fuckface Von Clownstick

The Juicers have their ten. Here are ten more questions that deserve to be asked:

1. What is your fucking problem?
2. What makes you think you know more about ISIS than the generals?
3. Where do you get off taunting a bona-fide war hero like John McCain, a man who literally was brutally tortured in an enemy prison camp for years, when he could have avoided it?
4. You tout yourself as a "businessman," yet your curricula vitae is littered with many more failures than successes, and in fact no successes of note in at least a decade or so. Specifically, what aspect of your supposed business acumen would you bring to the job of President?
5. Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with you?
6. Have you ever had a pet that you didn't choke to death?
7. Why won't you release your tax returns?
8. Why won't you release your medical records?
9. Why won't you release your college transcripts?
10. You know as well as we do that you are manifestly unqualified for the job which you purport to seek. Why won't you just fuck off and die already?

Bonus Question: Many people are saying that you're a soulless, talentless cocksucker who tells lies like most people draw breath. Do you think that's a fair characterization, or do you feel like you actually have a talent?

Our future as a free and independent republic depends on our vaunted Fourth Estate asking questions such as these. I would be more than happy to ask these questions (and many more, believe me) face-to-face with Drumpf, no problem. Let's watch!

At the Movies

Maggie's Plan -- On paper, the lineup for this little indie thing seems solid -- Greta Gerwig, Julianne Moore, Ethan Hawke, Bill Hader, Maya Rudolph. In practice, these insufferable Park Slopeheads become tiresome within minutes after you meet them. These are Woody Allen characters without any of the charm or personality.

Gerwig plays the titular character, a New School administrator (I know, right?) who wants the kid, but not the relationship. She decides to go the in vitro route and gets some monkey butter from her friend who runs an artisanal pickle shop (for fuck's sake), but then meets half-cute with a struggling married writer (aren't they all), played by Hawke. They hook up, he knocks her up, they get married and have a kid, and then Gerwig decides she'd rather not be tethered to this guy after all, and so concocts a plan to reconcile him with his ex-wife (Moore).

It would actually be nice to say, even sarcastically, that the proverbial hijinks ensue, but alas no, there are zero hijinks to be had. It is less inventive than a typical Three's Company rerun, and Three's Company had Mr. Roper. These douchebags would have improved things by literally digging up the amazing Norman Fell, and simply placing his rotted, desiccated corpse in the shot, a la Weekend at Bernie's.

This is by no means a political film, but if you want some insight as to the current political climate, this is not a bad place to start. These character archetypes are exactly the kind of people conservatards in general and Drumpftards in particular despise, and rightly so -- spoiled, brainless, limo-lib yuppie assholes spouting terminally bad, self-absorbed dialogue. They're all terrible people, and you don't care about any of them.

Fergodsake, Gerwig's master plan to get Hawke and Moore back together involves a conference where Slavoj Zizek is speaking, because of course they both love Zizek. I'm half-surprised there wasn't a scene where Hawke and/or Moore didn't weigh in on Hegelian dialectics, while molding their own poop into a perfect sphere, and getting hung up on how to remove the handprints from the sphere. It's that fucking bad.

Did I mention there's an artisanal pickle guy named Guy? This could be a funny thing if done right, except it seems weirdly earnest about it, and doesn't seem to find the humor in such a thing. Gerwig seems to be channeling Jason Schwartzman's character in Rushmore (one of my all-time favorite movies), except Max Fischer is a sixteen-year-old dork, and Maggie is supposed to be a responsible adult around the age of thirty.

Say this for the characters -- they all have very punchable faces and personalities, even the women. It is at least heartening to see that, according to Rotten Tomatoes, this movie mode only $3,302. That is not a typo -- three thousand, three hundred and two dollars -- and the audience score is nearly thirty points lower than the critics' score, usually not a good sign. So there are countless YouTube videos of random idiots thumbing their dicks, that cost nothing to make, that have monetized themselves better than this movie.

There are some nice location shots of the NYC. That is the only positive thing I can say about this tedious, insufferable time-suck.

Grade: D

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Green Room -- This is a strangely fun genre romp, about a punk band trapped in a neo-Nazi skinhead club owned by none other than (who else?) Patrick Stewart, who has traded in his elegant elocution for a slightly more working-class rumble, almost like Lemmy at times. The action starts quickly and never lets up, ramping up the tension at just the right times. The ending is somewhat anticlimactic, and there are a couple of minor drops along the way, but overall this is a lean, mean machine that really should have done a lot better than it did.

I'd give you more details, but as long as you're down with the genre and have a strong stomach (there are a couple of scenes of fairly graphic violence), you'll enjoy this one.

Grade:  B+

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The Lobster -- Even though my tastes tend to run more fartsy than artsy, I wanted to like this, I really did. The premise seemed ripe for satire and metaphor -- in a dystopian future, single people are given 45 days to find love, or be transformed into the animal of their choice and set loose in the forest. Sounds fun, right?

Colin Farrell and Rachel Weisz are pretty solid in the lead roles, so the acting is not the problem. The problem is in the heavy-handed production, with repeated bursts of morose Beethoven and Shostakovich string quartets barging into scenes that are too quiet and slow in the first place. THE STRINGS AREN'T HELPING, GUYS. Additionally, the premise itself makes little sense in the context of the film -- no rationale for such a policy, much less a real mechanism for enforcement (considering the participants are consenting to irreparably disfiguring themselves) seems to exist. There's no Handmaid's Tale or even Hunger Games explanation for this. They're just doing it because they're supposed to.

I suppose The Lobster was intended to function as some sort of satirical tone poem on desirability as a component of sexuality, and how people can define themselves solely by what they have to offer to others, instead of developing themselves and presenting that. What hope for the thoughtful soul in a Tinder hookup world, that sort of thing. Whatever. At two hours, it feels more like three, and ultimately there's no point, not even a satirical one. Again, strong performances and great location shots abound, but there's just not a lot of plot to hold things together.

Grade: C-

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Okay, let's dip into the recent past for what I would consider a "new millennium classic":

Bad Santa -- As you might imagine, I can take or leave Christmas in general, and Christmas movies and music in particular. As far as Christmas music goes, there are only three songs -- Fairytale of New York, Father Christmas, and everything else. I fucking hate most Christmas music -- derivative, sappy, consumerist jabber.

And I don't need to see the Peanuts Christmas special ever again; the only reason I ever watched it more than once in the first place is because I grew up with literally three teevee channels, until I was in my twenties. There was nothing else on, and no internets yet. No wonder I played guitar, rode motorcycles, brought girls home to bang in the hot tub, and partied as hard as anyone has outside of Motorhead. Seriously, there are days when I wonder how I made it to my 28th birthday.

As far as Christmas movies go, I tend to like The Ref, Die Hard, and (oddly) Elf, maybe a couple others here and there. Bad Santa was one that had slipped by me when it first came out, but a recent spate of summer reruns on HBO served to remind me what a terrific movie it is in general, and what a great Christmas movie in particular.

Billy Bob Thornton is spot-on as Willie, the mall Santa from hell. With his dwarf/elf sidekick, played with hysterical energy by Tony Cox, Willie works the malls during the holiday season, then robs the safes of the proceeds. It's a low-bar racket, but one that works well for these two unambitious losers.

Director Terry Zwigoff nails everything down to the details in this movie, from the music used throughout the movie to Willie's nihilistic alcoholism and his against-all-odds friendship with a weird, inscrutable kid. Thornton drinks, bangs, and bellows his way through these interchangeable consumerist shitholes, never looking up, never wanting more, knowing all the while that he's running head-first to a early grave.

In lesser hands, this would have been an unrelentingly bleak vision, but Zwigoff remembers that it is a Christmas movie after all, finds the humor in it, and doesn't resort to that sappy Miracle on 34th Street bullshit. It doesn't hurt to have two great comic actors (Bernie Mac and John Ritter, both sadly gone far too soon) supporting things.

There are a couple of discordant notes, but no bad ones, and Thornton and Cox chew up the scenery like a couple of wolverines. Christmas movie or no, this is one of the most mordantly funny movies around, but the fact that it is a Christmas movie makes it even better. If you had told me a year ago that I would have watched a Christmas movie multiple times throughout a blazing hot summer, I would said you were out of your fucking mind.

But I'd watch it again tomorrow, even though I just saw it about ten days ago, and I've watched it probably six or seven times in the past twelve weeks, and we're months away from Christmas, for the same reason we listen to great songs over and over again -- to savor the notes, the rhythm, the arrangement, the virtuosity of the players, to feel the hair on your neck or arm stand up because everything hits just right. Such a great movie.

Grade: A

See You Next Tuesday, Slight Return

Oh, the hilarity. Just another reminder that when you're crushing Drumpf and his idiot "working class" doofuses, you're also crushing these useless cunts. It is only partially gratifying to know that the work they've had done makes them even homelier than they probably were in the first place, and that they'll probably die with some Brazilian pool boy's jism in their throats.

These dingbats and their fucked-up faces can't die soon enough. They all have the same doll-from-hell-cheeked, cat-eyed look, like something out of a bad horror movie about evil ventriloquist dolls. They serve no purpose, except as alligator food at Drumpf's club for Florida shitheads.

Oh, and fuck Pat Boone as well, a completely overrated and useless person who is rolling with these unproductive cows. Boone is known as a "singer," and trust me, you do not know a single Pat Boone song worth knowing. Although from the photo, it is good to see that this motherless fuck is aging hard. With any luck, "Pat" Boone won't be cluttering up the planet for too much longer.

Space Truckin'

If we are to have a taco truck on every corner of this great nation of ours, then let's get this party started.

Roger Ailes Is The White Bill Cosby, But Worse

You know, call me crazy, but I am (perhaps counterintuitively) less concerned about how Fixed Noise as a network and Roger Ailes as an individual have served as surrogates for the Drumpf scampaign. There are no surprises to be had there.

What is rather surprising, given the way Bill Cosby had his life and career pushed through a wood chipper with startling quickness, as the accusations accumulated past the point of disbelief, is how Ailes has so far not had to endure such scrutiny and universal ridicule. As the accusations against Ailes accumulate, one might expect the heat to turn up; while Ailes may not be a household name the way Cosby is, he's been the power behind the leading cable news network for two decades.

You may not know much about Roger Ailes, but regardless of your political viewpoint, you know far more than you need or want to about Fixed Noise.

Saint Misbehavin'

Apparently Pope Francis is formally canonizing Mother Teresa this weekend, and the only fair response is whatever, pal. I don't understand the purpose of saints anymore than I understand the purpose of the Catholic church itself. It's merely custom, tradition, and not much more than that. We do it this way because we've always done things this way.

One of the finest polemic efforts by the late great Christopher Hitchens was to pierce the impermeable balloon of perfection that MT had cultivated for herself, by buddying up to Princess Di, while taking money from scumbags like Baby Doc Duvalier and Charles Keating. (As Hitchens famously recounts in The Missionary Position, the prosecutor in the Keating case personally implored MT to return Keating's ill-gotten, fraudulent, tax-evading contribution to her cause, to which she feigned ignorance in perhaps the most literal sense of the word -- she gave a nonsensical response to the request, and then essentially ignored him.)

Hitchens nails it by pointing out that while MT postured as a friend to the poor, what she really turned out to be was a friend of poverty and suffering, as she sincerely believed those things to be gifts from god. Relief from those ailments was not the goal; the more elusive goal of "redemption" was the point of her ministries. (Well, that and her more public stances against abortion and divorce. Anything that might empower women, MT's cause was to stand against such things.)

The One Thing to Like About the Drumpf Scampaign

They don't pay their scampaign workers. Couldn't happen to a nicer group of soulless scumbags. I hope Mike Caputo's house gets foreclosed on because Drumpf won't fucking pay him.

Shoot the Messenger

It's easy to pick on the MSM, in the most fish-in-a-barrel sense, but it can't be pointed out enough that the people they cover are worse, whether they're political candidates or rally-going yahoos.

One particular type of piece I've come to despise over this particular scampaign clusterfuck is the what are Drumpfkins really thinking profile, where we try to plumb the shallows of these goobers' intellects. Well, no, intellect is exactly the wrong word, because if there's one thing all these pieces have in common, it's a need to discuss how these sainted folk reach important decisions, gain some insight into their wisdom:

As we pulled up to her home, Sharon reflected on various theories her mother had. "Have you heard of the Illuminati? The New World Order?" Sharon asked so as to prepare me. "I'm tea party," Sharon said, "but I don't go along with a lot that my mom does." Whether they clung to such dark notions or laughed them off, tea party enthusiasts lived in a roaring rumor-sphere that offered answers to deep, abiding anxieties. Why did President Obama take off his wristwatch during Ramadan? Why did Walmart run out of ammunition on the third Tuesday in March? Did you know drones can detect how much money you have? Many described these as suspicions other people held. Many seemed to float in a zone of half-belief.

The most widespread of these suspicions, of course—shared by 66 percent of Trump supporters—is that Obama is Muslim.

What the people I interviewed were drawn to was not necessarily the particulars of these theories. It was the deep story underlying them—an account of life as it feels to them. Some such account underlies all beliefs, right or left, I think.

[emphasis added]

Every time a journamalist prints some false equivalence assertion like that last sentence there, a cuddly baby animal dies a horrible death. Bokay? Stop doing that shit, people. There is simply no "left" equivalent to an entire state of blue-collar peckerwoods living in a place they call Cancer Alley, mired in generations of poverty and failure, either working dead-end shit jobs or not at all, knowing at least one person stuck in substance abuse and/or grifting the system with fake diseases, rabidly supporting a fake billionaire who wouldn't piss on them if they were on fire.