April 23, 2004

Are You Ready to Kick

Are You Ready to Kick Wolf Blitzer’s Arse?

[Heartwarming Disclaimer: The crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly” doesn’t take too many moral stands, but, unlike Huey Newton, we are totally opposed to violence in all of its forms. Even against Carson Daly.]

We, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” have a question for you: What are you doing on Wednesday, May 12? Don’t worry: Our staff is not asking you out on a date; you can put the mace away. Seriously. Put it down.

We inquire because this is the date of the first annual “National Fight Big Media Meetup [sic] Day.” Indeed, it appears as if citizens nationwide are going to converge in various locales to beat the absolute tar out of “Big Media.” And we, for one, don’t want to miss out.

Imagine the scene: Four irate old-timers kicking the snot out of Cokie Roberts. George Will strangling a few spineless hippies with his Brooks Brothers tie. And Sam Donaldson choking a ten-year-old with his hairpiece.

We, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” don’t have much in common with the grungy utopians who organize this kind of thing. In fact, we don’t want to go too far out on a limb here, but we’ve always found Dennis Kucinich faintly ridiculous. And we don’t just mean his elfin mortician good looks.

But finally the tofu-and-homeopathy crowd has drummed up an event that we can fully support. In fact, part of our staff is currently designing makeshift nightsticks for use against Peter Jennings. After his ABC special on Ecstasy entitled “C’mon, Little Kid, Swallow the Pill—It’s Good for You,” we’ve had a collective hankering to pummel him senseless—if that’s still possible.

Unfortunately, the website does not make clear which representatives of “Big Media” will be present for fisticuffs in which American city. It would be a real downer to show up at the Detroit “Meetup,” intent to batter Paul Krugman, only to find that crotchety Robert Novak is the only ambassador from “Big Media” scheduled to appear. Bob’s never met a tax cut he doesn’t like; we wonder if he’d feel the same way about paper cuts.

All of this has led us to fantasize about our version of a “National Fight Big Media Meetup [sic] Day” Valhalla. We, dear reader, propose the following fantastic scenario:

8:30 am: Show up early to the event, carrying a homemade sign that offers CNN as an acrostic, standing for Carville Needs Noogies. Chat with some of the louche “Meetup” folks, and determine whether they are going to vote for Ralph Nader or the New and Improved Black Panther Party. (It’s a tough choice: After all, whom are you going to blame—the evil international corporations that are destroying all that is wholesome, or whitey?)

9:00 am: George Stephanopoulos arrives, as a kind of gladiatorial hors d’oeuvre—nothing really challenging, but gets everybody’s blood flowing.

9:30 am: Bigger fish appear: The entire cast of “The McLaughlin Group.” Frankly, we’ve been thirsting to thrash Mr. McLaughlin ever since his mug—and obnoxious blue-collar vociferations—made it to television. We’d love to put him in a full nelson until he couldn’t shout “Issue Four!” anymore.

10:00am: After polishing off Eleanor Clift, we move on to give Jayson Blair the drubbing of his life. Let’s see if he can fabricate his way out of our figure-four leg-lock!

10:30am: We take a breather by the “Feel Good Capitalism” booths—The Body Shop, Ben & Jerry’s, the United Colors of Benneton. The adolescent clerks at Benneton start to rethink their company’s policy on the death penalty after we lash them unmercifully. We snack on a couple of delectable “Meetup” meat-replacement pops.

11:00am: Bill O’Reilly appears, and becomes so punch drunk in the ensuing melee that he officially declares the first annual “National Fight Big Media Day” a “spin-zone.”

12:00pm: Lunch.

1:00pm: The entire crew of NPR (National Palestinian Radio) arrives and a battle royal ensues. Candy Crowley body slams Matt Lauer.

1:30pm: Having knocked the wind out of Carl Castle, we join Tucker Carlson and gang up on Paul Begala. Tucker punches the top of Begala’s monstrous forehead, while we beat on its lower half.

2:00pm: One word—Geraldo.

3:00pm: We take another break, signing various petitions: “We Must Stop John Ashcroft—and the 98 Senators Who Voted for the Patriot Act”; “North Korea Ought To Be the Only Country with Nuclear Weapons”; “The United States Should Be Run by Dolphins”; &c. While listening to a rousing rendition of “Blowin’ in the Wind” played on steel guitar and kazoo, we ponder the top five ways to thump Keith Oberman.

4:00pm: The day ends with a grudge match against Al Jazeera. Oddly, though the folks at Al Jazeera are foaming at the mouth with hatred of the United States, all of their weapons are imported from America. Al Jazeera claims it will air the merciless beating on its network, but then balks when a woman present mistakenly displays one of her ankles for the camera.

5:00pm: We, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” after a full day’s worth of what Tone Loc used to call “wilding,” strut home, reliving the day’s conquests.

Well, dear reader, there you have it: Our “Fight Big Media” dream-drubbing. Unfortunately, of course, the real world never turns out like that: If we showed up to the first annual “National Fight Big Media Meetup [sic] Day,” it’d probably be a tedious meet-n-greet of fetid radicals waxing ignorant on the “fascists at CBS.” In fact, knowing our luck, only Wolf Blitzer would show up. And we’re scared of anyone named Wolf Blitzer.

Posted at April 23, 2004 12:02 AM | TrackBack