Sandwich Boards And Brown Tides

I'm obviously not much for principle, but one I strictly adhere to is never linking to a righty blogger. If they say something stupid -- which is like saying, "If George W. Bush says something stupid"; it's only a matter of time -- I might quote it, and attribute it, but I'm not giving them any traffic, meager as it would be.

Ironically, I came across this principle from the righty blogs, some of which I used to peruse in moments of supposed political equanimity. This was back before they devolved from mere triumphant assholes to rabid cornered animals, caught in a trap of their own poor workmanship.

Anyway, two things I noticed was that they very rarely linked to any lefty blogger to prove their point, and that they incestuously link to one another, even the exact same story. They have A Cause, and right or wrong, they promote one another in service to that Cause. Even if it's a brown tide, they make an effort to make sure that even the small fry get lifted a bit by the rising of said tide.

There is a righty blogger who has attracted the attention of many on the left lately, through his relentlessly vituperative rantings, his incessant howls of execration, to very loosely paraphrase The Decider's recent fave read. I happen to have become acquainted with this person some years ago, in three separate chat fora, so I am all too familiar with his barmy schtick, which has not changed appreciably.

So the sensation of observing this recent wave of snarky infamy is not terribly unlike, say, being a club rat in Liverpool and Hamburg in the early Sixties, and then six years later hearing the hype about the Beatles. That is, if the Beatles were incredibly shitty and aggressively bugfuck insane. Perhaps I finesse the issue.

Let's say that one day on your daily stroll to work, you encounter a raving meth junkie, filthy and unkempt, babbling a few phrases over and over again. He has a sandwich board proclaiming "Death To Muslims!" or some such. He carries the proverbial tin cup, which rattles with coins and bristles with a few bills of uncertain denomination. The backside of the sandwich board has been festooned with advertisements.

Maybe this speed freak is really just crazy like a fox, with his undeniably entertaining antics. Even a grisly, bloody car wreck can get a rubberneck rise out of a saint, at least once. But, you know, you get the idea pretty quickly of each situation. Meth Junkie Sandwich Board Guy is still going to be Meth Junkie Sandwich Board Guy tomorrow, next week, next year. It's not like he's ever going to take a look at himself and get his shit together.

It is helpful to be reminded once in a while just how crazy some of the folks on the other side of the political impasse really are, how intractable they are, and the nature of their assumptions. Sometimes the root of their discontent is not even really political; perhaps they have projected their own shortcomings and insecurities onto The Other. Perhaps they find more comfort in affirmation and false certitude than in realizing the true nature of the vile people and policies they so vociferously support; it's certainly a much easier path. Maybe some smug asshole from the Dukakis campaign was a little snooty with their Aunt Millie that one time, and so they've forever condemned the entire past and future of the Democratic Party and all of its associates, in their self-righteous indignation.

Whatever the case, when all is said and done, they are still just raving meth junkies with sandwich boards and ad space, but they make money every single time we walk by and laugh at them. It's just a thought.

Even though a chimp's goals may be little more than to masturbate, throw feces, and fuck the nearest chimp, you can't say they're not goal-oriented. Humans who keep showing up outside the monkey cage, pointing out the slinging of feces and the constant masturbation, maybe not so much.