October 21, 2005
A Half-Assed Maureen Dowd Parody
A Half-Assed Maureen Dowd Parody
As some idiot once said, “The more things change, the more things stay the same.” This quizzical formulation—although clearly the thought of a self-indulgent nincompoop—has the benefit of being correct on occasion.Take, for example, New York Times columnist Maureen Dowd, whose unfathomably awful career as an inept journalist appears to be dedicated to demonstrating the evils of Affirmative Action for women. No matter how much things change in the world, you can be darn sure that Ms. Dowd will pen an utterly moronic essay about them.
For a long time now, dear reader, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” have earnestly wondered whether Ms. Dowd is attempting to be a humorist. And we aren’t asking this coyly; we earnestly do not understand if she means to be funny.
We mean, come on: Does she really believe that humor is as simple as changing the names of government officials to ridiculous sobriquets? Ah, so you call Donald Rumsfeld “Rummy.” And you label Harriet Miers “Harry.” Well, gee: Alert the media; we’ve got a new Don Rickles on our hands. She’s a veritable comic genius. We haven’t laughed this time since we read a Paul Krugman column.
In fact, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” have become so perplexed by the columns of this un-sassy pseudo-humorist that we have dedicated today’s humble “post” to poking fun at her. If she can mercilessly rip on Republicans in her own pathetic manner twice weekly, we figured that she could handle a couple of rips of our own.
To this end, dear reader, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” have endeavored to write a parody of a typical Maureen Dowd column. If you don’t find it in any way clever, insightful, or funny, then clearly we have done an expert job.
Poor Little Dowdy by the Crack Young Staff of THMQ, Posing as Maureen Dowd in a Brilliant Attempt at Parody
Poor little Dowdy felt all dowdy.
She’d written her column, and turned it in. Normally, she felt wonderfully self-righteous inside. She simply loves seeing her work appear on the same page as heavyweights like Herbie and Kruggles.
But she didn’t feel all good inside today. In fact, she felt downright dowdy.
She had trouble with her forte today: nicknames. Sure, she called Rumsfeld “Rummy,” Condoleezza “Condi” and Bush, well, “Bushy.” But what was she to do with Scooter Libby?
These are the kinds of brainteasers that keep a columnist like Dowdy awake at night. Secretly, she wondered what Friedy would do.
But then it struck her: Why not some random ad hominem attacks at conservatives? That seems to be Dowdy’s only way of writing anyway. So why not stick with it? It wins all kinds of plaudits: Sean Penny, Chris Matthewsy, Tim Russertles, and Barbra Streisandy love that kind of stuff.
And so, after a short crisis, Dowdy didn’t feel so dowdy inside.
She felt as if, again, her moral authority was absolute.
