A Humble Legal Request for the Boulder DA

Okay, okay, okay: John Mark Karr, the 41-year-old pedant, was in fact not the killer of JonBenet Ramsey. Apparently, Mr. Karr offered a false confession either due to some sort of delusional mental state or out of a desire to get attention. (Boy, you’d figure that he could have found a better way to get some attention. Ever heard of E-Harmony?)

After days of speculation about the guilt or innocence of Mr. Karr, the jury’s in. Which is to say, there’s no need for a jury, because Mr. Karr’s DNA doesn’t match that of the killer. (If only the Duke lacrosse team had it so easy!)

Now, dear reader, by the time you take a gander at this humble “post,” the Nancy Graces of the world will already have blabbed on about Mr. Karr for days. Perhaps the tabloids, now fed up with Mr. Karr’s phony confession, will have moved onto more pressing matters. Like Tom Cruise’s baby’s pictures.

Even so, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” don’t think that we’ve had our fill of the discussion. We may be more than a bit late on this issue, but we believe we must bring up something pertaining to the John Mark Karr brouhaha that really needs an airing.

Our particular concern can best be related in the form of a plea to Mary T. Lacy, the embattled and seemingly inept District Attorney for Boulder, Colorado. You see, Ms. Lacy currently finds herself on the hot seat because it was she who cooked up the whole Karr case in the first place. And now, media firestorm and thousands of dollars later, this lunatic has embarrassed her by being perfectly innocent.

But we think that Ms. Lacy can make things better for herself with the disgruntled citizens of Boulder and make the streets of the world safer in one fell swoop. Here’s what she must do: Arrest John Mark Karr anyway, and compel a judge to put him away for many, many years.

Now, we’d imagine that Mr. Karr already has some legal problems, since he wound up in Bangkok due to his jumping of bail on a child pornography charge. That, of course, is no worse a charge than any Kennedy has mustered, but it’s not a clean record nonetheless.

If you ask us, a few years for kiddie porn just isn’t enough. We, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” firmly believe that Mr. Karr requires immediate, long-term incarceration for the sin of being extremely creepy.

Now we know what all our ACLU boosters are going to say. That’s illegal! That’s undemocratic! That’s wrong! After all, if you could lock someone up for being creepy, Mickey Rourke would have rotted away in solitary confinement years ago.

But hear us out. We’re darned sure that John Mark Karr is up to no good. Sure, he may not have killed JonBenet Ramsey. He may not have even stolen the space between “Jon” and “Benet.” Yet mark our words: That fellow doesn’t have a bright future ahead of him, and he’s sufficiently creepy to earn our vote for future child molester.

So, come on, Ms. Lacy. Everyone thinks you’re a schmuck anyway. Why not send this oddball to prison for some ghastly sentence and protect our kids? That’s what Alberto Gonzalez would do.

Posted at 12:01 AM | TrackBack

Hell’s Northern Annex

“I’ve lived in Buffalo for 38 years and I’ve never heard gunfire.” Thus spoke Newell Nussbaumer, an organizer for Buffalo Old Home Week, a festival aimed at attracting warm bodies to the beleaguered upstate New York locale. Not, we must say, a ringing endorsement.

In the August 28 number of The New York Times one can find David Staba’s article “Alumni Reunion Is Staged To Burnish a City’s Image.” Mr. Staba reports on a revamped Buffalo Old Home Week, an attempt to stop the shrinkage of one of the fastest shrinking cities in America.

Now, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” don’t want to rain on anyone’s parade—though you’d be stupid to have a parade in Buffalo—but we happen to think that Buffalo, New York deserves to die. In fact, it possibly begs for a killing.

A few of our editors—let’s just call them “Chip”—spent some time in Buffalo recently, and we must say that we wouldn’t spend 38 years in Buffalo without gunfire: Stuck in that dank hellhole, we’d shoot ourselves long before then.

According to Mr. Staba’s report, the “city’s reputation suffered because of the assassination of President William McKinley at the Pan-American Exposition here in 1901….” Uh, sorry Mr. Journalist. That has absolutely nothing to do with it.

After all, President Kennedy was shot in Dallas, but that hasn’t made that city a laughing-stock. And Kennedy was killed far more recently than the murder of McKinley, for crying out loud.

So, let us inform Mr. Staba of why Buffalo is slightly more depressing than an Ingmar Bergman film festival—and far less cosmopolitan. First, we must not forget the weather: It’s miserably cold, horribly windy, and snows quite often.

Even worse, from October to April, the sky in Buffalo is completely overcast. Not just overcast: More than half the year, Buffalo is home to a “The Gods Must Be Angry” sky. It’s like London without any of the vibrancy and culture.

Further, as a cultural center, Buffalo’s moribund. Sure, it’s home to a good art museum. But that’s about it. It used to be a haven for avant-garde classical music (Lucas Foss, Morton Feldman), but now it’s completely dried up. The Buffalo Symphony plays nothing but standard fare for the blue-haired ladies in the audience.

Have you ever been to downtown Buffalo? It’s a complete horror: Boarded up stores, suspicious ne’er-do-wells, urban decay. Talk about a disaster. Even Niagara Falls is a dilapidated mess.

Perhaps the name of one of Buffalo’s most famous citizens will prove our point once and for all: Timothy McVeigh. If you ask us, his lawyers should have used the area he grew up in as part of his defense.

Posted at 12:01 AM | TrackBack

It’s the Second-Most Wonderful Time of the Year

Ah, dear reader, the season is upon us. Soon bright-eyed teens and young twenty-somethings will head off to the four-year drinking marathon commonly referred to as college. Take out the rape kits, folks—your sons and daughters are about to return to their busy carousal schedule.

You can almost smell the glee from college administrators country-wide. As we write this, countless Office of Equal Opportunity czars are putting the final touches on their latest attempts at institutional discrimination.

After a few months spent on vacation at the French Riviera, Marxist “cultural studies” professors are getting prepared to prattle on about the oppressed in their sub-academic courses. Nothing sounds as authentic as a browbeating lecture about the horrors of capitalism from a fellow with a deep tan and a fascination with $5 cups of espresso.

Yes, dear reader, if you listen closely, you can hear the world’s academics and administrators gearing up for the year: Hear that? It’s a faint whisper of the word “diversity” in the air, and, when you can notice it, you know that some faculty member somewhere or other is busy preparing a lecture on Audre Lorde.

We, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” mention the start of the new academic year for a particular reason. Before it is officially underway, we aim to guess what kind of high jinks will take place on campus during the 2006-2007 academic season.

Last year, of course, meant the dismissal of Larry Summers from the presidency of Harvard University. If you can’t recall that far back, we can tell you that Mr. Summers was given the boot because he dared to posit that a biological difference existed between the sexes. And, naturally, our “diversity”-obsessed faculty was irate. How dare Mr. Summers suggest something opposed to ultra-feminist diktats?

So what’s going to be the big scandal this year? Another Ward Churchill brouhaha? At this point, that’s hardly the cause for a scandal: The faux-Indian doofus has pretty much had his 15 minutes of academic notoriety. And he plagiarized them anyway.

Perhaps some prominent anti-Israeli Middle Eastern Studies professor will get in hot water for heralding terrorist violence against the West. Naturally, he won’t get in hot water on campus—the lauding of terrorist violence is pretty ho-hum in the tony purlieus of academia these days. But maybe this would generate some sort of firestorm in the general public.

But this, we fear, is a rather tame prognostication. If you’re going to bet on the academic scandal of the upcoming year, you might as well proffer a long shot.

Which is why we’re guessing that this will be the year Camille Paglia marries Judith Butler. Mmmm: That’s a lovely image.

Posted at 12:01 AM | TrackBack

The Spectator’s Spectacular Spill?

Surely one of our favorite weekly reads is The Spectator, a conservative British alternative of sorts to The New Yorker. Only not as stuffy. And without the interminable articles on nugatory subjects. Oh, and no Seymore Hersh (thank God).

But we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” would be remiss if we failed to mention that the jolly old Spectator has irked us a bit of late. First, it is darn near impossible to find this magazine at the newsstand in the USA, unless you are at a very fine newsstand indeed. Once a mainstay at the local Borders or Barnes & Ignoble, now it is almost nowhere to be found.

This would not be such a big deal, dear reader, if The Spectator weren’t such an obscenely expensive rag for those of us across the pond. $256 for a year’s subscription? For crying out loud: You can probably get, say, a vasectomy for cheaper.

But some of the recent editorial decisions rankle as well. Now, we aren’t the type to argue that The Spectator’s columnists should be lock-step behind the Bush administration—we think the diversity of opinion on display in the magazine makes it quite fun. It’s always humorous to read mop-top Boris Johnson’s ludicrous take on the Middle East, for example.

Yet why in the good Lord’s name did the folks at The Speccie give the preternaturally entertaining Mark Steyn the boot? We savored his columns and film reviews each week, and the magazine dearly misses his caustic wit.

And then there’s the cheap little semi-advertising section that The Speccie has recently dreamed up. Since the arrival of Matthew d’Ancona as editor, the back part of the magazine has featured a few articles that are really elaborate plugs for various companies—companies that paid to be mentioned, no doubt.

For instance, delight in this bit of writing-cum-advertising from the pen of one Jenny Wilhide:

In the end I went to optometrist Viren Jani (020 7409 2559) on Mount Street in Mayfair because the eye test came with complementary Iridology—the Ayurvedic practice of analysing flecks in the iris for signs of trouble in the body.

Gee, Jenny: Thanks for including the telephone numbers and “website” addresses of all the businesses you mention in your uncompromising, un-commercial writing. You complete hack.

Most assuredly, however, the most irritating thing about The Spectator is an old one: The continued presence of Taki, the insufferable paleo-conservative Greek heir to a shipping fortune who bought his way into the world of punditry.

Now, don’t get us wrong, dear reader: We don’t disesteem Taki merely because we disagree with him. Rather, this self-described anti-Semite routinely presents the most insipid commentary the world has ever seen. Why would the eminences who bring us The Spectator—surely one of the most well-produced magazines in the world—see fit to present us with the ramblings of a lecherous goof who lacks even a semblance of political acumen?

Think we’re a bit harsh? Take in this genius from Taki’s August 5 column:

I may be biased, but what I’d like to know is who the terrorist is: the one who has killed 750 civilians and 100 fighters, or the one who has killed 33 soldiers and 18 civilians? The Spectator’s editors may disagree with the poor little Greek boy, but the proof is in the numbers. The Israeli high command sounds like George Michael. They insist their behaviour is not in any way abnormal, obscene.

Uggghhh: How obtuse can you get? To this moronic cocaine addict, a “terrorist” should be defined solely by the number of civilians he has killed. Never mind the fact that Hezbollah specifically targets citizens and the Israeli army does not. Never mind the fact that Hezbollah uses civilians as human shields. This is all irrelevant to the dimwitted Taki. Perhaps he’d like to take a gander at the definition of the word “terrorist” in the dictionary, before he proffered yet another criticism of the lone Jewish state.

Presumably, Taki would agree with the lunatics of the far Left, who see the United States as a terrorist entity due (in part) to the bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. And why aren’t the Allies in WWII “terrorists”? They sure proved more effective at killing Nazis than Nazis were at killing them—much to Taki’s dismay, no doubt.

Posted at 12:01 AM | TrackBack

Supporting the Unsupportable

No, dear reader, the title of today’s “post” does not refer to Dolly Parton’s bras. Rather, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” figured that we’d change things up a bit and take a break from our quotidian political cogency. That is to say, in today’s humble “post,” we envision a horrible piece of legislation and offer it our unmitigated support.

Now, you may be asking yourself, why in the good Lord’s name would we want to do that? Well, dear reader, every once in a while we get sick and tired of making so much darned sense. We get fed up with the ultra-rational demonstrations of our unique political acumen. In short, we need to “think outside the box” once in a while, as countless twits say.

Supporting a hands-on approach to combating Islamic fascism; caterwauling against the excesses of multiculturalism; obliterating hypocrisy; defending civilization against its enemies—all this may be dead-on, but it’s also boring. So, today we’ve set our minds on making a horrendous mistake. Consider this our Ashlee Simpson “post.”

We call this mistake the “Leave Some Children Behind Act,” and we think it’s a dandy. As you well know, dear reader, politicians from both ends of the political spectrum can’t stop prattling on about “leaving no child behind.” From Bush administration stooges to the loveable loons at The Nation, darn near everyone thinks that leaving a child behind is a cardinal sin. One wonders how they manage the courage to hire a baby-sitter.

Frankly, dear reader, we think forcing every child in front of you (if you will) is a big mistake. In fact, we deem it preferable to leave at least some children behind. Hence the name of our proposed bill, which would surely be as popular as tofu in Cheyenne.

Now, before you get up in arms about the militant unfairness involved in leaving a few scamps behind, hear us out. We, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” have absolutely no interest in discrimination of any sort. As our liberal pals know, discrimination is an abominable evil, which must be rectified by state-sanctioned discrimination.

As such, our bill is an equal opportunity leaver-behinder, if you will. We support shoving all sorts of kids into the background: Rich white kids named Nigel; poor Mexican kids named Nigel; the Amish; et al.

And there’s good reason to champion our bill. Pace every elected official in the country, some kids positively beg to be left behind. We mean, come on: The world needs ditch-diggers too.

Posted at 12:01 AM | TrackBack

Long John Silver’s

Here’s a good rule of thumb: Never trust a fast-food place that serves fish. We, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” consider this such an obvious piece of advice that it hardly merits repetition.

It’s kind of like “Don’t have unprotected sexual intercourse with Paris Hilton.” Or: “Don’t let Mickey Rourke house-sit for you.” We mean, come on: Isn’t that so obvious?

All the same, dear reader, one of the junior editors here at “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly”—let’s just call him “Chip”—would have been well served to hear this tidbit from the mouth of a friend before he headed off to the local Long John Silver’s establishment for a quick lunch. It would have saved him a lot of agony and warded away around 45 pounds of fat.

For whatever reason, “Chip” had never set foot in a Long John Silver’s. Perhaps it’s a result of good upbringing. Or maybe it’s because there wasn’t a Long John Silver’s in his hometown area. Anyway, it seemed like a foreboding franchise, the sort of business that’s not for the dedicated landlubber.

It’s the kind of place that even a Taco Bell fanatic might find nauseating. As the antiquated commercial goes, Mikey might like everything, but there’s no way that he’d dig Long John Silver’s. After all, even the place’s name is an abomination. It probably even sounds hokey to pirates.

In fact, “Chip” must report that Long John Silver’s is even worse than you’d imagine. And there are manifold reasons why this is so. Allow us to highlight a few.

First, the particular restaurant (and we use that term very loosely) that “Chip” entered was filthy: Trays of unappetizing foodstuffs on the tables and assorted crumbs as far as the eyes could see. Not, “Chip” thought to himself, a good start.

And then there’s the small matter of the victuals themselves. Having forced himself to take in most of the “popcorn shrimp” he ordered, “Chip” can firmly declare that Long John Silver’s produces the kind of food that makes KFC appear like a haven for gourmands.

In short, Long John Silver’s is for people who find Red Lobster a bit too upscale. Everything tasted like chicken-fried garbage.

To be honest, it’s just as well that this establishment is so unappetizing. After all, treat yourself to a plate of deep-fried pseudo-fish death scrapple a day and you won’t last long enough to enjoy a healthy retirement. We, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” have the faint idea that the hush puppies were the most healthful item on the menu.

So, dear reader, take our advice. Stay away from this wretched place. And, yes: Eschew the Lobster Bites. We promise you’ll thank us for it.

Posted at 12:01 AM | TrackBack

Doing Our Part for the Peoples on the Internets

As you may recognize, this humble “weblog” has a somewhat different format from most. Other than the fact that we don’t publish pornography. Unlike, say, the Internet’s famed Instapundit, we tend to “post” an essay a day, rather than offer oodles of “links.”

Frankly, dear reader, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” like this arrangement. It allows us to pontificate at some length on topics, instead of composing “posts” whose full text reads “Heh.” To each his own.

There are, however, distinct shortcomings to our e-arrangement. Our focus on an essay every weekday typically leaves us unable to make manifold references to other “webloggers” on Al Gore’s storied World-Wide Web. As such, whilst other people occasionally “link” to our work, we seldom have the opportunity to return the favor.

Accordingly, every once in a while (read: Once a year), we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” like to compose a “post” that offers details regarding some of the “weblogs” we particularly fancy. And, in case you are preternaturally slow, let us inform you that today is the day we’re going to do that. (Gee, we really thought that would have been obvious by now. Huh. Go figure.)

Now, before we present our truncated list of some good, wholesome “weblogs,” we need to proffer a few significant caveats. First, we decided against fawning over our typical list of favorites: The Llamabutchers, Naked Villainy, the Jacksons, Agent Bedhead, &c. For good reason: We believe that everyone who reads our humble “weblog” already reads these “websites.” And loves them, of course.

In addition, we must stress that our list is in no way comprehensive. Perhaps we’ll add another installment of our list in a future “post,” as a means to prove that our “weblogging” loves are not exhausted by today’s mentions.

Okay, okay, okay—enough hand-wringing. Bring on the “weblogs.”

A List of Darn Good “Weblogs” Outside the Beaten Path

1) Wizblog: Penned by one Dan Wismar, Wizblog routinely offers “links” to interesting articles and stories, with a particular focus, it seems, on the United Nations. If you haven’t seen “links” to any juicy pieces lately, check out Wizblog.

2) Muslihoon: Critical elaboration on the War on Terrorism from a conservative-leaning Muslim? How could you resist this? Muslihoon features some in-depth discussions from an intriguing perspective.

3) Pillage Idiot: A grab-bag of Internet fun from Atilla, the proprietor of Pillage Idiot. Don’t worry: As his “weblog” informs you, he’s “not really a Hun” though he “play[s] one on TV.”

4) Andrew Cusack: A former intern at The New Criterion, Mr. Cusack features intermittent, longish “posts” and some dashingly handsome “web”-design.

5) The Joy of Curmudgeonry: A “weblog” with footnotes and the tag line “Unio Europaea delenda est”? It doesn’t get any better than that. Deogolwulf, the proprietor of this “website,” presents learned musings from across the pond.

6) Feisty Republican Whore: With some “weblogs” the title says it all. A delightful mix of humorous conservative rants and libertinage.

7) A Sweet Familiar Dissonance: From Lynn Sislo, the culture queen of the World-Wide Web. Take a break from your partisan muckraking and savor her “posts.”

Well, dear reader, we think these are some dandy “websites.” But there are plenty of others. As we said, in a future “post,” we’ll mention some more. Perhaps we’ll pay tribute to a bevy of real heavy hitters, as if Charles Johnson is going to give a darn that we recommend Little Green Footballs.

For now, enjoy.

Posted at 12:01 AM | TrackBack

John Irving’s SS Moral Compass

As has been reported in the press ad nauseam, Günter Grass, the esteemed left-wing German novelist, has caused a row in Germany by announcing that, as a teenager, he was drafted into the Waffen SS. This has ignited a stir because Mr. Grass, the famed author of The Tin Drum and a winner of the Nobel Prize for Literature, was the self-styled conscience of post-war Germany.

Throughout the decades, in addition to offering apologias for various left-wing totalitarians, Grass has hectored the German public, urging his fellow Krauts to come clean about their Nazi past. And now, after years of sanctimonious preaching, Mr. Grass turns out to have been hiding his own Nazi past. Ah, the wages of hypocrisy!

As a famous novelist, however, Mr. Grass naturally has his share of literary pals, the kinds of folk who can rush to his defense with a timely op-ed in some large-circulation rag. And thus novelist John Irving has penned a remarkably obtuse, slipshod apologia for Grass in—wait for it—The Guardian. Of course, The Guardian is a perfect fit for such a piece: The paper is a prime apologist for Islamic fascism, the Nazism of today, and so it makes sense for it to give space for an excuse for Nazism of the old-fashioned variety.

Interestingly, unlike the other Guardian op-eds, Mr. Irving’s pathetic disquisition doesn’t allow on-line readers to offer their comments on the piece. Perhaps Mr. Irving realized that he hadn’t exactly hit an argumentative homerun.

For good reason: Humorously titled “Günter Grass is my hero, as a writer and a moral compass,” this article makes its case by studiously ignoring the obvious problems with Mr. Grass’ behavior. For instance, Mr. Irving explains:

Grass enlisted [in the Waffen SS] when he was 15; he said he volunteered mainly “to get away.” I wonder if any of his critics truly remember themselves at 15.

To which we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” reply: Mr. Irving, you’re a complete dolt. From all the criticism of Mr. Grass we’ve read, we’ve yet to find writers who find fault merely for Mr. Grass’ teenage transgression—even though he claimed that he believed in the Nazi cause until the end of the war. Grass was surely morally obtuse (stick that in your compass, Mr. Irving) but he was an adolescent.

Rather, critics have harped on the quintessential hypocrisy Mr. Grass has demonstrated as an adult—and about this glaring hypocrisy Mr. Irving is eerily silent. No one likes to be bullied into coming to grips with their problematic past by a fellow who fails to come to grips with his problematic past. Is this really so hard to understand?

Apparently it is for John Irving. That he has composed such a feeble defense of his friend perhaps demonstrates that the Günter Grass Moral Compass has led him astray.

Posted at 12:01 AM | TrackBack

Movers

It’s been some time, dear reader, since we dropped our quotidian political polemics in favor of excoriating an apolitical subject. With all the hubbub surrounding Israel’s pesky desire to exist, we haven’t had much of a chance to take aim at a non-partisan topic.

Until, that is to say, now. Recently, a long time confidante of the crack young staff—let’s just call him “Chip”—experienced the joys associated with hiring a moving company to lug his belongings to his new abode. And, from “Chip’s” bitching on the telephone, we can safely say that we hope to stay put for a long time to come.

Naturally, everything associated with moving is a hassle: Informing the editors of Cat Fancy and Feminist Karate Monthly of your new address; hiring a moving company; packing up your stuff. And yet the right moving company can make the average hassle into an extraordinary disaster.

Now, we suppose we should note right off the bat that nobody will ever be as careful about moving your belongings as you will be. It doesn’t matter if you’re a 90 pound weakling or as powerful as Pee Wee Herman.

And there’s a good reason for this. In fact, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” have labeled it our Official First Rule of Moving: It’s not their stuff.

This might sound like a rather obvious rule, but it’s the key to realizing that any movers are bound to do a bad job. It’s sad, but it’s true.

Did the movers treat your boxes of books as the Turks treated the Armenians? Of course: It’s not their stuff. Did they “mistakenly” drag your bed on the pavement? Certainly: It’s not their stuff. Did they prop your broken furniture against a wall, in the hope that you wouldn’t notice the massive damage they wrought? Naturally: It’s not their stuff.

Further, although moving companies make it extremely easy for you to buy their services, they make it extremely difficult to collect on damages they caused. And, of course, they tend to be about as timely as Lindsey Lohan on a movie set.

Ah, it’s simply marvelous: You’ve just arrived at your new home, and, in addition to all the other irritants you must deal with, your furniture now resembles that of a refugee camp. All this for the price of a modest used car. Does it get any better than this?

If you ask us, hardworking folks should band together and head to the homes of moving company CEOs. Nothing says “payback” quite like a rowdy mob treating the CEOs’ belongings like Allied treated theirs.

Posted at 12:01 AM | TrackBack

An Exciting Trial Offer

Academics are smarter than the rest of us. Or so they keep telling us. Whether it’s Noam Chomsky railing on the USA as a “failed state” or the late Edward Said—may peace be upon Him—excoriating Israel for its pesky desire to exist, the academic community has a long history of believing that it has far more political wisdom than average Joes.

Never mind, of course, that manifold academics have fallen head-over-heels in love with all kinds of odious totalitarian movements: Communism, fascism, Islamofascisim, &c. They loved Pol Pot even more than they loved pot. Yet the Howard Zinns and “Skip” Gates of the world still think that the world would become a Valhalla if they were in charge.

In fact, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” recall that William F. Buckley Jr.—the king of Larchmont Lockjaw—once quipped that he would rather be ruled by a government made up of the first 2,000 names in the Boston telephone book than by the combined faculties of Harvard and MIT. Or words to that effect.

Well, we’re not so sure. Although we have a hunch that Mr. Buckley is correct, we must admit that no one to our knowledge has ever given an academic cabal full control of an entire country. (Ah, would that Trotsky had made it to power!)

As such, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” propose a trial offer. In order to determine whether academics really do know better than everyone else, we suggest that a cabal of professors take over the government of the USA for a period of two weeks.

If, at the end of this fortnight, peace on earth has occurred and happiness declared by all, we’ll know that the PhDs were correct. If, on the other hand, we all wind up in “reeducation” camps and “diversity” gulags, we’ll know they’re full of garbage.

It’s an interesting proposition, is it not? And it’ll at least ensure that our tenured radical friends will shut up and read The New York Review of Books in silence.

This leads to the obvious question: Who’s going to be in control? Well, we came up with a list of the following academic eminences:

Cherished Leader: Cornel West
Vice-Cherished Leader-ess: Judith Butler
Jacques Lacan Esteemed Chair of the Dyadic Mirror Phase: Slavoj Zizek
Karl Marx Department of Peace Through Terrorism: Michael Hardt
Yasir Arafat Memorial Lieutenant of Foreign Affairs: Joseph Massad
Office of Institutional Discrimination and Hating Whitey: Houston Baker
Official Spokesperson: Ward Churchill

We know what you’re thinking, dear reader: It’s a bit of a reactionary list. After all, there aren’t too many women in power; how “un-diverse” is that? Further, we doubt that our academic pals would esteem such a hierarchical arrangement: What’s wrong with a “power collective”? And surely the selfless Stanley Fish is wondering why he isn’t in charge.

Posted at 12:01 AM | TrackBack

That’s Some Manifesto

After scanning countless editorial pages in American newspapers, we concluded something vaguely interesting. Are you ready for our big thesis?

We thought so: Those who pen letters to the editor mostly seem to do so for what can only be termed psychological reasons. They don’t aim to convince but for catharsis.

We, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” have long since noticed that the letters to the editor section of The New York Times is so replete with rants masquerading as arguments that it serves an emotional purpose more than an intellectual one. In the pages of the Gray Lady, one can see numerous leftists offer the exact same appeals without a shred of evidence. “Bush lied! He’s killing all of our children! Stop him!” That sort of thing.

This, it seems safe to say, wouldn’t alter the opinion of even the dullest dullard. Only those who already concur will appreciate it. And they will appreciate it in the way that one appreciates a good dose of Ritalin—that is to say, in an entirely psychological manner. Such palaver doesn’t change minds, but it feels good.

If the Gray Lady routinely offers useless letters of this ilk, you can imagine that The San Francisco Chronicle will up the ante. After all, the Chronicle is the un-thinking man’s Paper of Record, and San Francisco offers the opportunity to preach to the converted more than most American cities.

As a result, we were not surprised to find a missive in the famed Chronicle that perfectly captures the essence of the letter to the editor as emotional release. It was composed by one Bill Carman, a fellow whose last name undoubtedly causes much embarrassment for him, since he’s surely eschewed automobiles in favor of aiding the environment. His appeal reads as follows:

Editor -- Thanks to The Chronicle for running the excellent editorial holding the Bush administration accountable for the wanton attack on our constitutional rights (Editorial, "Patriots, awaken," Fourth of July). This administration, wrapped in the flag and conservative Christian values, puts us at great risk of losing what we hold most dear, our freedoms.

Pleasanton

As we said, it’s a delightful example of the non-argument letter. No one who doesn’t already side with Mr. Carman on everything he discusses will be moved by his rhetoric at all. This is a rant, pure and simple.

But it is an interesting rant. We found this bit particularly interesting:

The conservative right has its own television channel (Fox News), its own manifesto (Bible) and a “blue blood” puppet in the White House….

Now we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” are not experts on manifestos, but we think that the Bible isn’t a bad one, as far as manifestos go. In our minds, it beats, say, The Communist Manifesto or, say, Mao’s Little Red Book. But, hey, to each his own.

Posted at 12:01 AM | TrackBack

The Opinions of the Truculently Uninformed

Everyone has one of those friends: The guy (or gal) who maintains feverishly ideological opinions on current events without troubling himself (or herself) to keep even moderately informed. Is anyone more enraging? (Other than Tom Cruise, of course.)

A Nader voter who hasn’t even passing familiarity with economics; a self-proclaimed Hezbollah enthusiast who thinks Israel was created by the USA in 1986; a Tom Delay supporter who’s never heard of Jack Abramoff—these are the kinds of chuckleheads who make up the truculently uninformed. For some reason, America seems to be chock-a-block with these critters.

And, to be honest, dear reader, we find them almost as scary as a Muslim with 1,256 cellular telephones and a job at Heathrow. We mean, come on: How unhinged do you have to be to spout radical slogans whilst not even bothering to read a daily paper? After all, if you’re getting all your “news” from “The Colbert Report,” you might as well not vote.

It doesn’t make any sense. If you ask us, the blithely uninformed ought to have moderate opinions—or, failing that, no opinions at all. Yet sometimes, dear reader, this seems not to be the case.

Quite often this leads to rather bizarre and irksome conversations. Your ill-informed Green Party devotee will lean over to you and say, “I just don’t understand why radical Muslims would attack Canada—they never sent any troops to Iraq.”

At this moment, you don’t know whether to ignore this dolt or trouble yourself with formulating a reply. After all, you’d have to discuss the history of pre-Iraq War Islamic terrorism, Afghanistan, the Taliban, Saudi Arabia’s massive funding for anti-Western propaganda, blah, blah, blah. And then, of course, you’d have to suggest that your pal remove his radical bumper stickers from his car, since he’s officially too stupid to sport such vehicular eyesores.

It simply may not be worth the effort. Especially if you have to use the can. If a non-Muslim Westerner seems more critical of the USA than of Hezbollah, you are highly unlikely to convince him of anything, since he’s clearly demonstrated that his views are a mite insane.

So the next time an acquaintance of yours dons a Che Guevara T-shirt and then demonstrates that he doesn’t know the first thing about him, you may want to take some drastic measures. Like forced sterilization. Hey, at least he won’t have moronically opinionated kids to bother you.

Posted at 12:01 AM | TrackBack

A Bit of a Pickle

Like nearly all Americans, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” know plenty of pals and acquaintances who firmly believe that the United States should not have liberated Iraq, because Arab societies supposedly don’t have the requisite background to live under a democratic form of government. You must know this line of argument: Benighted Arabs simply lack the je ne sais quoi for democracy.

Quite frankly, dear reader, we’ve always found that rationale both vaguely racist and peculiar. The negative view it offers of Arabs should be obvious: These poor barbarians can’t hack a sophisticated form of government. Their history demonstrates that they can’t stomach anything but tyranny.

But it is also a strange argument when coming from the lips of leftists. After all, these are the people who demonize the European Right for hoping to put a halt to Arab immigration in their countries. To our leftist friends, this makes people like the late Pim Fortuyn—the openly homosexual Dutch social liberal—into an insidious extreme rightist.

How can this be? If leftists truly believe that Arabs are incompatible with a democratic form of governance, how can they support Arab immigration to countries that are democracies? And how can they paint the opponents of such immigration as insidious racists?

And it only gets worse: These leftists also support “multiculturalism” and therefore detest the assimilation of foreigners into their new countries’ way of life. If Arabs are incompatible with democracy, as they argue, why wouldn’t you hope that they would assimilate into European or American culture? Do these leftists pine for an Islamic caliphate in their homelands?

We, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” think all of this makes little sense. But it seems par for the course among our leftist pals, who so often “support” Arabs and Muslims by painting them as semi-human. Ah, how compassionate.

Posted at 12:01 AM | TrackBack

Know Thy Idiots

As the Israel-Hezbollah conflict continues, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” have particularly savored the letters to the editor sections of numerous American dailies. During this Middle East crisis, it seems, normally dimwitted epistlers offer even stupider thoughts than is usually the case. This results, dear reader, in missives that are a treasure to behold.

A perfect case in point is a letter found in the August 10 number of The Boston Globe. Penned by a cranially-challenged gal named Eleanor Klauminzer, it is worth quoting in full. It reads:

It seems apparent that in the asymmetrical war going on in Lebanon, knowledge of the enemy is also unbalanced. David Green writes (“Know thy enemy,” Ideas, Aug. 6) that the Hezbollah reader, Sheik Hassan Nasrallah, strikes fear into Israelis, despite Israel’s overwhelming military superiority, because he appears to know so much about them.

For many years, I accepted the Israeli narrative as the one true history of the modern Middle East. But the Palestinians also have their narrative, and, as I have recently become aware, it is just as compelling. The truth of one does not cancel out the truth of the other.

The tragic irony is that both sides, Palestinians no less than Israelis, appear to be pleading for the same thing: their right to exist and prosper in peace and security.

Wow. It’s a real tour de force of complete idiocy, is it not? In fact, the dimwitted Ms. Klauminzer offers so many errors we hardly know where to begin.

We suppose we ought to start by mentioning that the odious Sheik Nasrallah’s hunch that committing acts of terrorism against Israelis will frighten them doesn’t exactly amount to the deep-seated knowledge Ms. Klauminzer claims for him. Gee: Israelis are frightened of terrorist acts—who would have thunk it?

But notice how this “knowledge” of the Israelis is wholly different from the “knowledge” she hopes Israelis will gather: “What if the Israelis knew as much about their opponents—not just military knowledge, but a deep understanding of how it feels to be Palestinian or Muslim?”

Uh, Ms. Klauminzer: Do you believe that Nasrallah gives a darn about “a deep understanding of how it feels to be Israeli or Jewish”? We suspect not.

As stupid as all this is, there’s even more. Delight in this line, dear reader: “The truth of one does not cancel out the truth of the other.” Ah, so Ms. Klauminzer is a postmodernist, eh? Either that, or she’s a complete twit, and ought to take a philosophy class. Or perhaps look up the word “truth” in her dictionary.

But surely the end is the coup de grace of this exercise in Mongoloid reasoning. After criticizing Israelis for lacking some elusive “knowledge” of Palestinians, she then tells us: “The tragic irony is that both sides, Palestinians no less than Israelis, appear to be pleading for the same thing: their right to exist and prosper in peace and security.”

Dear, oh, dear. Maybe Ms. Klauminzer, instead of brow-beating the Israelis, ought to learn a thing or two about the Palestinians herself. As the Hamas and Hezbollah attacks amply demonstrate, many Palestinians (and, more broadly, many Muslims in the Middle East) do not pine for “peace and security.” On the contrary: They aim for the elimination of Israel and the mass-murder that it will entail.

This is why, of course, the “knowledgeable” Nasrallah offered an unprovoked attack on Israel proper, despite the fact that the Israelis have not occupied any of Lebanon since 2000. And this is why, of course, the “knowledgeable” scamps in Hamas have lobbed missiles into Israel proper ever since the Israeli withdrawal from Gaza. These actions—massively supported by the Palestinian people—are not the acts of those chiefly concerned with “peace and security.”

Boy, you would have thought this was obvious to anyone with a brain. Clearly, the only “tragic irony” here is that the dunderheaded Ms. Klauminzer wrote a ridiculously inept letter chastising the Israelis for their lack of knowledge, when it is she who lacks even rudimentary understanding of the Middle East.

Posted at 12:01 AM | TrackBack

A Picture Is Now Worth Three Words

Many right-leaning “webloggers” have harped and harpied on the recent Reuters “fauxtography” scandal du jour. And rightly so: We, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” have long considered Reuters disturbingly tilted in its coverage, and we believe that the exposure of their photographic fraud is deeply important.

In fact, we’re delighted that savvy Internet sleuths have taken it upon themselves to find even more examples of fraud—in The New York Times, US News & World Report, and elsewhere. The more damning evidence they dig up, the more the silence of the left-wing “weblogosphere” seems ridiculous. Aiding and abetting the destroyers of civilization keep on getting more nettlesome.

Even so, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” pined to offer our own two cents on the matter. Yet, quite frankly, we don’t have our own examples of mainstream media malfeasance, which would ensure all kinds of “hits” and “links.” Further, we’re not exactly quick to respond to this whole brouhaha: Most “webloggers” have been writing about the matter for umpteen days now.

Nevertheless, what we sacrifice in diligence and timeliness we more than make up for with peculiarity. For, instead of offering yet another jeremiad against the dreaded MSM, we’ve decided to present a very different take. That’s the kind of thing you like about us, we surmise.

As far as we’re concerned, the whole Reuters and Assorted Mainstream Mediagate Fiasco (as we’ve taken to call it) has yet to inspire any comment on a particularly pressing issue. That is, until now.

Everyone is likely familiar with the old cliché “a picture is worth a thousand words.” It’s a strange phrase, to be sure, since it is difficult to compute the calculus by which the number one thousand was happened upon. But, hey: “That’s the way the cookie crumbles” isn’t exactly a brilliant bromide either, even though it’s a tasty one.

But, with there now being such a hullabaloo regarding the news media’s photographs of the Israel-Hezbollah conflict, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” firmly believe that the “a picture is worth a thousand words” should be officially downgraded. That is to say, from now on, we would appreciate it if you would eschew this phrase in favor of one of the following:

1) A picture is worth five words, and those five words are “Reuters is full of garbage.”
2) A Photoshopped picture is worth a thousand words on Little Green Footballs.
3) A picture is still worth a thousand words, provided it doesn’t come from the Middle East and pertain to Israel.
4) CAIR is an organization of Islamic fascists who support terrorism.

Now, we know what you’re going to say: That fourth statement isn’t even related to the whole Reuters brouhaha. To which we respond: Yeah, you’re right, but you can never say it enough.

Posted at 12:01 AM | TrackBack

Playing Catch-Up

As regular readers of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” well know, we have just returned from a resplendent week-long vacation. In our absence, the delicious Maximum Leader warmed the cockles of your hearts with his merry animadversions.

But now, dear reader, we’re back, and we, like Charlie Sheen, are in full swing. We don’t want to drop too many journalistic buzzwords on you, but we are, as they say, ready to write.

In fact, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” figured that we’d use today’s humble “post” to play a bit of catch-up—the favorite game of John Kerry’s spouse. (Geddit?) That is to say, we’d mention some of the stories that we’ve missed in the past week as the result of our smashing vacation.
We figured that this would be a great service to you all, since many of our readers likely peruse “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly” as their only news source. And God loves you for it.

So, in an effort to aid our undying (and moribund) fans, we offer the following list of “While We Were Out Catch-Up Tidbits”:

An Official List of “Hatemonger’s Quarterly” “While We Were Out Catch-Up Tidbits”:

1) It appears that Mel Gibson is something of an inebriated anti-Semite. Frankly, we never would have seen that one coming. After all, what film he produced would ever suggest that he loathes Jews with such a passion? Yeah: We’re stumped too.

4) Now that witless squillionaire Ned Lamont has won the Connecticut Democratic senatorial primary, the Iraq War will end within two days. Thanks for your help, Democrats of Connecticut!

Posted at 12:01 AM | TrackBack

Help Yourself to Some of Our Self-Help

If there’s anything that we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” are, it’s helpful lads and lasses. In fact, the reason we began “weblogging” in the first place was to aid our fellow man. Well, that and to prove that blood-for-oil was actually a very reasonable transaction, depending on the owner of the blood in question.

Perhaps, dear reader, our innumerable rants have somewhat sullied our original goals on Al Gore’s World-Wide Web. Instead of helping all and sundry, perhaps we’ve become more of a bunch of complacent whiners. Yeah, maybe.

Until, that is to say, today. For, in this humble installment of our humble “weblog,” we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” aim to give something back to the community. Forget our quotidian bitching; today we’re dedicated to offering aid and relief in this, your potential time of need.

It is in this spirit, dear reader, that we proudly announce our first idea for a self-help book. And, unlike the umpteen self-help tomes that sit upon the dusty shelves of the local Barnes & Ignoble, our magnum opus will actually present honest-to-goodness succor.

You’re intrigued, aren’t you? We knew that you probably wouldn’t be. Even so, we’ll continue.

The working title for the monograph is Don’t Forget to Sweat the Small Stuff: Your Guide to Making Life More Interesting by Becoming Pettier. Admittedly, it’s a bit wordy, but at least it ain’t The Devil Wears Prada.

Further, the title clues you in to the essence of the work itself. In short, we realize that darn near every human being has a dreadfully dull life. Sure, Kate Moss doesn’t, but you’re far heavier than Kate Moss, and we can tell that without even looking at you. Also, you undoubtedly survive on more than rice cakes and cocaine.

Accordingly, dear reader, you’re bored. Our dreary middle-class culture has taken all the excitement out of life: No longer will you impress your tribe by taking part in a time-honored hunt for wooly mammoths. Unless, of course, you’re Ted Nugent.

Our book, then, aims to make life more interesting, by compelling you to become a far pettier individual than you were in the first place. Pretty soon, you’re life will be chock-a-block with all sorts of exquisite diversions.

Did the lady in the next cubicle fail to return your stapler? That bitch! Where does that mono-browed wench get the nerve? You ought to put Ex-Lax in her coffee.

Did some dipstick cut in front of you with his Ford Mustang? That no good punk. Let’s see how “cool” he feels when you start shooting at his car. How do you like ‘dem apples, you slack-jawed townie?

Admittedly, dear reader, our book does not exactly offer the most magnanimous path to leading an interesting life. But let’s face it: You weren’t likely to go that route anyway.

With our tome in hand, you’re only a few steps away to beating the mailman senseless, playing nasty pranks on your boss, and recounting stories from your deliciously fun life to your current cell-mates.

Posted at 12:01 AM | TrackBack

A Sure Sign of Evil

Many readers of this humble “weblog” are undoubtedly wondering about our Official Crack Young Staff Vacation, which we recently enjoyed. (During which time, of course, you were delighted by the e-fireworks of the great Maximum Leader.) As you might imagine, dear reader, we thoroughly enjoyed ourselves, taking in all kinds of barbeque, condiments, and defibrillators.

Even so, during our trips to the local campgrounds, we did notice something that slightly sullied our otherwise delicious week off. Pardon us if we are wrong, but it appears to us as if numerous drivers in these here United States are horrible. For a variety of reasons, sundry operators of motor vehicles figuratively (if not literally) bite the big one.

In short, they suck. In long, they clearly demonstrate an appallingly low aptitude in the area of motor vehicle operation.

As bad as many drivers may be, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” actually noted that a particular sliver of them is actually worse than usual. In fact, these fellows and gentle ladies are so wretched that we’re inclined to go to great lengths to avoid them on the road.

And to whom, you may be asking yourself, do we refer? The drivers of BMWs. If you ask us—and, technically speaking, you did not—the BMW is a sure sign of evil. Just as the Trans-Am is a sure sign of white trash.

Now, although our conclusions about the BMW may occasion consternation among German automobile devotees who esteem “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” we must say that we don’t find them very odd. After all, the folks at BMW previously did their best to aid the Nazi war effort. Let’s just say it’s not a surprise that it’s the vehicle of choice for numerous pinheads.

Naturally, we have only anecdotal evidence to support our contention. But we think we have oodles of it.

On our trips, we found that, darn near every time a driver made an aggressive, dimwitted move at the wheel, the driver of that vehicle was likely behind the wheels of a BMW. Almost without fail, the BMW was the car of the jerk.

Of course, the American driver is likely to encounter plenty of non-BMW jerks in the course of his travels. Some may even drive Jaguars or Fiats. Plenty of Jaguars, we’d wager.

But BMWers are the worst. Hands down. If we were highway cops—and we’re not officially—we’d pull people over merely for operating a BMW. After all, BMW drivers are clearly up to no good: How do you think they got the cash to afford a BMW in the first place?

(Note: The crack young staff does not wish to offend drivers of BMWs. If you actually own a BMW, suffice it to say that you are the lone exception to the rule that BMW drivers are a sorry lot of aggressive dipsticks.)

Posted at 12:01 AM | TrackBack

Unadulterated E-Genius

As you are undoubtedly aware, dear reader, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” have been off sunning and funning on our glorious week of vacation. In a “post” to come, we’ll inform you of our vacationary comings and goings. But today, dear reader, we have a more urgent task.

Regular readers of this humble “weblog” most assuredly recognize that “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” much like The Drudge Report, did not close up shop as the result of a vacation. Both THMQ and Drudge are far too popular for any kind of e-hibernation.

Rather, we opened our little space on Al Gore’s World-Wide Web to the (in)famous proprietor of Naked Villainy, the Maximum Leader. We had chosen the Maximum Leader as a guest “weblogger” last year, and all went smashing. Thus we beckoned his bejeweled, floppy hat back our way again.

And, dear reader, we’re in awe. If you’ve yet to take a gander at last week’s “posts” on this humble “weblog,” we feverishly exhort you to do so now. We don’t think we are overdoing it too much to declare that the Maximum Leader has offered up nothing but pure, unadulterated e-genius. In fact, his writing is so good, we’re wont to label it E-Genius.

To be honest, dear reader, this has put a bit of the fear of God in us. After a week of vacation, we come to find that our “weblog” is more popular than when we left, and chock-a-block with inspired commentary and yuks. The Maximum Leader has even tossed in the word “sundry” a few times. Clearly, this is the work of a brilliant mind. How can we keep up?

Now, our discussion of the Maximum Leader’s Internet prowess calls to mind a Joe Theisman quote. The troglodytic quarterback once said something like: “Don’t call football players geniuses. A genius is a guy like Norman Einstein.”

Yes, the peckings of a “weblogger” aren’t exactly the stuff of Nobel Prizes (yet?). So we suppose we ought to temper our praises a bit. But we simply can’t do so: The Maximum Leader is an e-genius, pure and simple. And, need we remind you, he’s an Official Honorary Member of the Crack Young Staff. How do you like ‘dem apples?

If you aren’t reading his delicious musings every day on Naked Villainy, please do so. We have kept up with his wit and wisdom for ages, and we’ve enjoyed every blessed minute of it. Oh, and buy a Naked Villainy thong if you have a little bit of extra cash.

Posted at 12:01 AM | TrackBack

We're Number One?

Greetings, loyal readers of The Hatemonger's Quarterly. It is, one last time this week, your Maximum Leader on the final day of his gig as guest weblogger. On Monday, The Crack Young Staff will return. Your Maximum Leader is sure that they will be rested, tanned, and ready to regale us all with humorous animadversions and observations on current events and such.

Your Maximum Leader doffs his bejeweled floppy cap in the direction of the whole Staff in thanks for entrusting him with the proverbial keys to their kingdom. He hopes that his posts satisfied all of you out there lurking in the ether of Albert Gore's Internet. Perhaps he'll be back next year...

For this final guest post, your Maximum Leader is throwing his hands up in disgust. Disgust at his fellow countrymen. Over the course of our long and illustrious national history Americans have been first at so many things. We were the first truly democratic republic in the world. We were the greatest industrial power in the world for generations. We were first with The Bomb. We were first on the moon. And we were first among all the nations in the world in terms of vice.

You name the vice, and Americans were best at it. Drinking - gotcha covered. Overeating - don't get between us and a $7.99 all-you-can-eat buffet. Gambling - well hell we have Las Vegas... What more need be said?

Well... It looks like we've got some competition in the vice department. Your Maximum Leader is sure that all the readers of this space have heard about how jobs are going overseas. Cheap labor. High quality means of production. Slave labor. Jobs are being outsourced all over. Now it seems, just like all the high tech jobs, textile jobs, and manufacturing jobs, the gaming industry is being outsourced to China.

According to the AP news wire services, some outfit called Globalysis has determined that the Chinese city of Macau will overtake Las Vegas NEXT YEAR in terms of gambling revenue. Next year? This is not to say that Las Vegas will collapse immediately and fall into the dust of the desert. But they will not be number one any more.

It seems like just a few years ago that Macau was just a sleepy Portuguese colony which had existed for 100 years as a shadowy step sister of Hong Kong. Now all of a sudden it is Asia's high rollers retreat. It is the Kung-Pao City of Sin. Lucky for us catchy phrases like "What happens in Macau stays in Macau" just isn't as catchy as "What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas."

One must stop to wonder what those crafty Chinese Communists are thinking. How exactly can their workers paradise be host to the world's largest gaming destination? How exactly does the vanguard of the proletariat happen to come by the capital needed to waste away $500-a-hand at Twenty-one? Other than gambling are there other vices in Macau? Topless revues? $7.99-all-you-can-eat-lobster and steak buffets? Shopping at swanky boutiques? The mind boggles at the possibilities.

What exactly are the casinos like in Macau? We know that in Vegas you can gamble in casinos with various themes. You can gamble like a Roman Emperor, or an Egyptian Pharaoh. You can imagine you are in New York, Paris, Venice, or even Camelot. What are the themed casinos in Macau like? Is there an Opium Den casino? A Great Wall betting parlour? An era of colonial domination casino? A Cultural Revolution gaming palace? The possibilities are endless.

Your Maximum Leader is saddened by Vegas being eclipsed by Macau. One wonders if in a few years there will be anything left to be proud of in America.

Thank you for your kind attention.

Carry on.

Posted at 12:51 AM | TrackBack

Processed Meat

Greetings, loyal readers of The Hatemonger's Quarterly. It is your Maximum Leader sitting in the HMQ war room in front of "the big board." The one just like the one in Dr. Strangelove. As cool as these digs are one would wonder why the Crack Young Staff would ever want to take a day off - much less take off a whole week. What is the draw of the beach over a big board?

Frequent readers of your Maximum Leader's regular web site, Naked Villainy, know that he has an affinity towards the pig. After the dog the pig is God's most perfect domesticated animal. Your Maximum Leader has said it before and he'll say it again, pigs are great. This is because the pig is just so useful. They eat anything. They are smart. They can be made into bacon, sausage, ham, pork chops, pork ribs, pork roast, pickled pigs feet, sweetbreads, leather, and candles. The pig is just the most handy thing around.

Your Maximum Leader loves, as you can no doubt tell, his pork. So imagine his dismay when he read today on the news wires that "processed meats" like "bacon, sausage, and smoked ham" can increase one's chances of contracting stomach cancer. It appears as though some crazy Swedes say that a daily increase of 1 ounce of processed meats in one's diet can increase chances of contracting stomach cancer between 15 and 38 percent.

These Swedes claim their study results are "unequivocal."

Hah! Pshaw! Nonsense! First off... What is the regular daily portion we're talking about here? 1 ounce? 6 ounces? 1 pound? Who is rating this? The USDA? Are we using the old recommended daily allowance? The new food pyramid? Are these processed meats processed in Sweden? Or are they processed in the US? How do we know that the Swedes have the same type of digestive tract as Americans? Is socialized medicine responsible?

Ah! Now your Maximum Leader is on to something... Socialized medicine must be to blame. Since everyone shares the cost of health care in Sweden there must be some sort of social imperative to keep people from eating anything that might vaguely be fun or tasty. We all know fun and tasty foods can't be good for you. And if you are paying for Olaf down the street's health care you want to avoid that triple bypass or stomach cancer treatment...

It must be a conspiracy. A damnable socialist conspiracy.

Your Maximum Leader thinks he's going to have to fund a study on how processed meats improve the quality of life for non-Swedes...

Carry on.

Posted at 12:51 AM | TrackBack

Castro

Greetings, readers of The Hatemonger's Quarterly. It is your Maximum Leader here in the fashionably appointed offices of the Crack Young Staff. This is day three of your Maximum Leader's week-long stint in the best guest blogger job in the whole length and breadth of Al Gore's Internets. He hopes that the Crack Young Staff has been wearing sunscreen, and keeping the windows cracked open on their Honda Civics. (It's been hot.)

No doubt by now you've heard of the worsening health of Cuban dictator Fidel Castro. Apparently the murderous Communist oppressor has been suffering from a bout of gastrointestinal bleeding. Bleeding so severe that Fidel had to give up de jure (if not de facto) power in Cuba to his brother Raul so that he might undergo corrective surgery.

Far be it for your Maximum Leader to wish ill upon anyone. But he'll make exceptions for a few people in the world. Fidel Castro is among those he'll wish ill upon. One has to wonder if the gastrointestinal bleeding might be a result of severe ulcers; the cause of which might be years of guilt over the suffering he's caused his people. Then again... They might not be.

In light of Fidel Castro's condition, your Maximum Leader will preview death statements prepared for the day when Castro slips from this mortal coil:

Venezuelan President Hugo Chavez - "The people of Cuba have lost a great leader. I have lost a great friend. The United States has lost an implacable enemy. The world has lost a remarkably snappy dresser."

Anti-war activist and suck-up to South American dictators Cindy Sheehan - "Fidel Castro was my lover. He was a tender lover. He said that one day he would leave Cuba and join me in Texas so we could continue my protests against the most evil man in the world, George W. Bush. I miss him so much..."

Former American President James Earl Carter - "I've not always seen eye-to-eye with President Castro. While I was President I had to uphold the US embargo of Cuba, even though I saw the suffering it caused the Cuban people. I was a little put out when Fidel emptied his prisons and sent all those people to Miami, but I understood that he was only reacting to an overbearing and unjust foreign policy maintained by the United States. By the way... Have you seen my Nobel Peace Prize?"

Actor and Friend of Cuba, Danny Glover - "I am deeply saddened by the loss of Fidel Castro. Castro was a friend to me, and many of my enlightened Hollywood friends. Fidel, and he was Fidel to me, frequently had me and Harry Belafonte down to his palace outside Havana. We'd go on all weekend drinking binges to celebrate universal health care and universal pre-school for all Cubans. Good times... Yes... Good times... I'll miss Fidel greatly."

Singer and Activist, Harry Belefonte - "The loss of Fidel Castro is a loss for the oppressed people of the world. Cuba is a model for the world. I wish that the United States was more like Cuba. There is no racism in Cuba, everyone is free and equal. The people of Cuba have Fidel Castro to thank for that."

New Cuban President, Raul Castro - "What the hell? Fidel is dead? Holy crap! I've gotta get the heck outta here! Sweet Jeebus! Where did Fidel put that bank account info? Damn! Where is Hugo's cell phone number? Venezulea, that's the ticket! Damn! Is my jet fueled? I've gotta get outta here before anyone here figures out what's happened. Why did Fidel have to go first? Why oh why? I'm screwed! Royally screwed! My life sucks! Curse you Fidel! Why did you leave me like this? Some brother you were Fidel... Mama told me you were going to leave me like this... Gotta get outta here..."

There you have it dear readers, a preview of what your Maximum Leader thinks you'll see any day now.

Carry on.

Posted at 12:51 AM | TrackBack

Filmography of Gibson

Greetings, readers of The Hatemonger's Quarterly. It is your Maximum Leader here at the anchor desk while the Crack Young Staff continues to lounge by the pool, sip drinks out of glasses with tiny umbrellas, and polish of Harlequin romance novels at the rate of two a day.

Surely by this time, dear reader, you've heard that one big-time Hollywood star has had a little bit of a run-in with "Johnny Law." And by "Johnny Law" your Maximum Leader really means the Los Angeles Sherriff’s Department, the Anti-Defamation League, the Simon Wiesenthal Center, and Nora Ephron. Yes, Hollywood star and self-proclaimed "owner" of Malibu, Mel Gibson was arrested last Friday night for driving his Lexus LS430 a good 42 mph over the posted speed limit.

Oh yes... Did we mention that Gibson was also battling his personal demons? It seems Gibson’s demons dwell in a bottle labeled Chivas Regal.

Anyhoo...

In light of the goings-on concerning Mr. Gibson, your Maximum Leader presents for you a fan’s abridged guide to the films of Mel Gibson.

Mad Max – In a post-apocalyptic world run by Jews, roving bands of motorized criminals terrorize the innocent. Max, a gentile highway patrolman before the apocalypse, sees his family killed by criminals and vows to get his revenge; and stop the Jews from ruining the already ruined world.

The Road Warrior – Gibson reprises his role of gentile-turned free-lance kicker of arse, Max. Max faces off against a marauding horde of circumcised dune-buggy driving criminals. Max attacks the marauding horde which gives a group of gentiles time to escape from their Jew-threatened compound.

Lethal Weapon – The original cop buddy movie. Gibson plays the slightly insane Detective Riggs who must break up an international drug smuggling ring. Riggs partners with African-American Detective Murtaugh to defeat the drug cartel which is beholden to the international conspiracy of illuminati and jews.

The Patriot – Gibson plays a reluctant American revolutionary who must fight to drive the jew-loving English out of the New World. The American revolutionaries fight to create a new nation, conceived in liberty; and free of the jewish yoke.

Braveheart – Gibson plays William Wallace, the gentile leader of the Scots in their crusade against the jew-loving English. The Scots fight to free their nation from the jewish yoke.

Your Maximum Leader hopes that this brief guide to the films of Mel Gibson helps you on your next trip to the video store.

Carry on.

Posted at 12:51 AM | TrackBack