A Slow Day for the Revolution

Al Gore’s Internet, an ingenious invention that, as some congressman opined, is made up of tubes, is revolutionizing everything. E-mail; on-line shopping; downloading; “weblogging”—these and kindred computerized novelties are changing the world as we know it. So say umpteen pundits and politicians. Apparently the world will never be the same.

We, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” are wont to believe those who see the World-Wide Web as ushering in a fundamental change in the world. As far as we’re concerned, thanks to the Internet revolution, in a few years Amazon.com and Starbucks will own everything. Boy, won’t that be great.

Those who see a Gutenberg-esque change coming from Al Gore’s World-Wide Web, however, must account for a few things that don’t quite fit with their thesis. First and foremost is the following: For all its revolutionary power, the Internet is utterly ineffectual in late December.

That’s right, dear reader: From around December 24 to January 1, this agent of transformation is about as powerful as a Nicole Ritchie bench press. During these dark days, suddenly the world turns its back on the World-Wide Web and its delights, preferring less technological comforts: Fighting with the family, &c.

We say this, dear reader, with oodles of experience of this strange happenstance. As one of Al Gore’s “webloggers” for well nigh three years, we have witnessed our share of the late December Internet downturn. For these few days, “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly” is even less popular than it is typically. Hard to believe, isn’t it?

And this, of course, is striking, since this humble “weblog” isn’t exactly a haven for all and sundry. If we normally receive around three (3) “hits” a day, during lackluster late December, they drop to circa one (1) per diem. Congratulations, reader: You are quite possibly the only person on planet earth who is taking a gander at this “post.”

Naturally, this is an unfortunate state of affairs for we crack young staffers. For a few days at the end of each year, we have to get used to our “weblog’s” comparative obscurity. Whilst we normally have the ear of The New York Times, The Washington Post, and other vaguely legitimate news outfits, during this time we can’t even get The Outer Albany Daily Woodchuck. It’s sad, but it’s true.

But fear not: In a few short days we’ll return to full strength. Soon our e-minions will return for our savory brand of cheap yuks and lame gags. They just can’t stay away.

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Compassionate Liberalism

Cicero, a fellow today’s academic hucksters would call a dead white male, once wrote de mortuis nil nisi bonum: “concerning the dead, nothing if not good.” This sentiment, of course, dictates that it is uncouth to say anything but words of praise for the recently deceased. Having been killed in 43 BC, Cicero is no longer protected by this adage, but one might think that those who passed far more recently would receive nicer treatment.

And thus we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” turned to our friends at The Huffington Post, to see how their warmhearted liberal readership would take in the news of former President Gerald Ford’s death. We’ve heard plenty about the greater compassion of American liberals vis-à-vis their conservative opponents, and thus we hoped to happen upon some delightful examples of this sparkling magnanimity.

We figured that the passing of Gerald Ford would offer a sterling opportunity for our lefty pals to demonstrate their essential moral goodness. After all, President Ford was—horror of horrors!—a Republican. He wasn’t, of course, as odious as President Reagan, the guy who—horror of horrors!—ended the Cold War. And, naturally, he wasn’t George W. Bush (to the ultra-compassionate, a.k.a. Chimpy McHitler). Still, as a fellow with an “R” next to his name, the late President Ford would test the Huff Po’s readers’ compassion.

Boy, did the Huff Po faithful prove up to the task! We can’t believe we questioned their compassion (or, for that matter, patriotism). Check out these charming sentiments, culled from Arianna’s lovely readership (all the errors are theirs):

Jerry, you may die, but I still won't pardon you for your crimes. Enjoy eternity in hell, you bastard.

By: utah on December 27, 2006 at 12:07am

*****

Never elected President just like Chimpy McFlightsuit.

A nonentity that pardoned Nxon.

By: Michigan on December 27, 2006 at 12:21am

*****

EX-SKOOOOOZE ME?!!!

I know the unelected VP and unelected PREZ pardoned Nixon after that creep broke every law and ethical principle he could find, but I never knew that they awarded him the JFK Profile in Courage Award for it!

I guess he gets to take his place on the stage with the other medalist heroes of contemporary Amerika like J Paul Bremer, Don Rumsfeld, and Tony Blair.

With heroes like these, who needs cowards?

By: wakerobin on December 27, 2006 at 12:24am

Wow: Doesn’t that make you feel all warm and gooey inside? No wonder our buddies on the Left constantly bray about the Right’s lack of compassion and tolerance. Surely no one on the Left lacks these attributes.

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Another Grave Problem for George W. Bush

As nearly all literate Americans recognize (read: Not high school students), President George W. Bush hasn’t had a particularly good 2006. Iraq remains unstable; hurricane Katrina was a disaster; &c. Sure, the President didn’t fare as badly as, say, Michael Richards, but he most certainly didn’t enjoy the annus mirabilis he would have liked.

Under such circumstances, dear reader, we hate to pile more problems on George Bush’s plate. Yet a recent perusal of Newsweek—a magazine for people who don’t like to read—suggests that the President has yet another vexing problem to which he must soon attend.

The January 1, 2007 number of Newsweek, in addition to its highbrow coverage of Britney Spears, Lance Bass, and kindred delights, contains a mini-interview with Sir George Martin, the fellow who served as the producer for a rock group known as the Beatles. The occasion of this vignette in the magazine—like so much else that appears in Newsweek—was Martin’s new CD “Love,” which contains (dubiously enough) “re-worked” Beatles tracks.

Right about now, one might reasonably wonder how this relates to George W. Bush. After all, Sir George Martin, whatever his talents in the music business, doesn’t have much to do with American politics.

Ah, but we live during the days of Celebrity Political Diarrhea. As anyone who’s ever heard the words “Dixie Chicks” well knows, much media attention and cash can be made by celebrities offering noxious political opinions. For some reason, these famous and semi-famous halfwits believe that people are deeply interested in the learned political musings of, say, Bruce Springsteen.

Alas, during the course of his three-word interview with Newsweek, Sir George Martin just couldn’t contain his useless political bluster. Below we have reproduced the question that—surprisingly—prompted Sir George’s outburst as well as the outburst in question:

Was John [Lennon] just that cool?

John was certainly a very cool person. But there are plenty of cool people around now. Ravi Shankar for one, and Roger Federer for another. But not George Bush.

Oh, no: George W. Bush, the President of the United States, isn’t cool in the eyes of an 80-year-old record producer who’s currently remixing Beatles albums for more retirement cash! Horror of horrors! If only the President were more like Roger Federer, the tennis star with no discernable personality!

This will surely come as quite a blow to the President. Man, the guy who mixed “Strawberry Fields Forever” doesn’t think you’re “cool.” How depressing.

It’s nice that Sir George feels the need to act like a pre-teen and tell the world who’s cool and who isn’t? Tell us, Sir Cool and Collected, is Osama bin Laden cool? How hip is Hamas? George Galloway? We’re, like, dying, like, to, like, know.

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Ruminations on the “Ceasefire”

We, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” oft find ourselves discussing the topic of Israel and their peaceable Palestinian neighbors. Naturally, we’re not the only ones who regularly opine on this matter—regardless of the large number of conflicts throughout the world, for some reason Israel-Palestine receives far more ink. And, it seems, a great deal of this wall-to-wall coverage is overtly and pathetically biased—hence our desire to mention it ourselves.

A recent report from the Associated (with terrorists) Press offers a splendid case-in-point. Here it is in its gloriously obtuse entirety:

GAZA CITY—A month-old ceasefire between Israel and the Palestinians was in jeopardy yesterday following several Palestinian rocket attacks, including one that veered off course and struck a home in the Gaza Strip, wounding a 2-year-old boy. Another rocket hit a community center in the Israeli town of Sderot, causing damage but no injuries, the army said. It was one of six that landed in Israel yesterday.

Okay, so the peaceable Palestinians fire “several” rockets into Israel, and the charming folks at the AP fret that this will end the “ceasefire” between the two sides. Um, wouldn’t you think the rocket attacks themselves would end the ceasefire? After all, you have to fire them in order to get them into Israel, which would obviously end the cease-fire.

So, to our buddies at the AP, a “ceasefire” means Palestinian attacks with no Israeli response. We wonder if the powers-that-be at the AP would consider it a “ceasefire” if we smacked them across the face—provided they failed to attack back. If you ask us, that’s exactly what these terrorist-supporting nincompoops deserve.

Perhaps someone ought to fire a couple of rockets at their abodes, and then prattle on about the horrid possibility that a response to this action could lead to the demise of a fragile ceasefire. We’re sure they’d fully agree that any response to the demolition of their houses would merely serve to escalate tensions, and thus should be fully avoided.

Thus do the useful idiots in the mainstream media aid the eliminationist provocations of the unicycle of violence known as the Palestinian people.

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Merry Christmas to One and All

As card-carrying members of the Vast Right-Wing Conspiracy, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” have received official instructions from Bill O’Reilly and Halliburton regarding the holiday greetings we should offer to all. On behalf of Mr. O’Reilly, Dick Cheney’s cronies, and sundry greedy corporate entities, we wish you a very merry Christmas.

To our black radical readers (excuse us—Black radical readers), we wish you a happy Kwanzaa. May visions of the ultimate subjugation of the White Devils bring joy to your hearts, brothers.

Tomorrow, we’ll return to our usual high jinks. Until then, we hope all of our readers have a lovely holiday.

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A Pocket Full of Coins

Recently, a correspondent from our Boston (MA) office informed us of something he experienced during his commute. This correspondent—let’s just call him “Chip”—usually takes the bus to work. That way, he can get his fill of toothless derelicts before he even punches the clock in the morning. On this particular occasion, however, “Chip” decided to ride the subway.

Ah, the joys of the Boston subway—or “the T,” as the locals call it (note to non-locals: That’s short for MBTA). Every time you turn around, it seems, the good ole’ T gets more and more expensive. Pretty soon it’ll be just like the lovely subway in DC, where countless unfortunates waste away in metro stations because they haven’t the requisite fare to leave.

Less than a year ago, it seems, the geniuses at the T decided to switch from comparatively inexpensive tokens to a confusing system of cards. Basically, this ensures that the passenger winds up spending way too much for individual rides, loses his card, and gets ripped off like one does by card-operated laundry machines. More money for them, far less convenience for us—sounds like a win-win to the MBTA.

Well, given his decision to ride the T, “Chip” was compelled to figure out the Mongoloid system the delightful transit authority had cooked up. Thus he stood in front of a machine, confusedly scanning its bells and whistles in order to fetch a card with the appropriate fare on it.

Easier said than done. In his midst stood myriad prospective passengers attempting to figure out this Byzantine system. Rocket scientists, engineers, witch doctors—all sorts of folks were mystified by the T’s stunningly moronic card dispensers. To help ease things along, this particular station was equipped with an employee ostensibly aiding the confused. As a worker for the MBTA, however, she was naturally useless.

Finally, “Chip” shoved a crisp new $20 bill into a machine, hopeful that he was simultaneously pushing the correct buttons. “Gosh, I hope this works,” he thought. “That’s easily worth $500 in Canada.”

Since he asked for a $5 ticket (the lowest possible amount available, it seems), he anticipated receiving $15 in return. (Gee: Even if you’re not a math major, we hope you figured out that brainteaser.)

Oh, but he shouldn’t have gotten his spirits up. By way of change, the execrable machine spat back 15 Susan B. Anthony coins in his direction. Just in case you missed it, we’ll repeat that last bit again: The execrable machine spat back 15 Susan B. Anthony coins in his direction. 15 frickin’ Susan B. Anthony coins! Who the heck wants that?

Irked, “Chip” approached the charming T employee. What this woman lacked in helpfulness she more than made up for in missing teeth. Upon hearing “Chip’s” request for $15 in paper money instead of the stupid coins, the woman sassed back: “Them’s coins is legal tender, they is,” she quipped.

To which “Chip” responded: When’s the last time you actually received Susan B. Anthony coins as change? The woman huffed and departed. Thus “Chip” was left with one overpriced fare card—which he lost soon thereafter—and a pocket weighted down with coins no one wants. He was ready to ride the T.

Ah, the delights of life in the city.

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Reiterating the Fact That Jimmy Carter Is an Idiot

Let’s not mince words here. Jimmy “Apartheid” Carter is a complete moron. Although we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” have penned many a “post” about this former President’s disastrous views on the Middle East, we seem never to say this enough.

And for good reason: Jimmy “Useful Idiot” Carter keeps on unfairly chastising Israel, even though he’s strangely ill informed on the subject. Frankly, dear reader, we find his incessant idiocy vexing. Perhaps it even rankles as much as his attempts at poetry. Nah, it isn’t that bad. But almost.

The latest in President Carter’s curious anti-Zionist ravings comes in the form of an op-ed published in the venerable Boston Globe. Titled “Reiterating the Keys to Peace,” this piece again demonstrates President Carter’s unparalleled obtuseness.

In essence, Carter is upset that his myopic jeremiad, menacingly titled Palestine: Peace Not Apartheid, has earned some withering reviews. Gee: With a title as delicate as that, who would have thought the book would incite anger? Apparently not President Carter, the guy who was sufficiently bright to usher in a new word in English language dictionaries—stagflation.

As far as President Carter is concerned, critiques of his book have centered on ad hominem fluff. Well, well, well: This from the fellow who refused to debate Alan Dershowitz on the topic of the contemporary Middle East, obviously because he was scared he would be thoroughly schooled. For his efforts at promoting debate, Mr. Dershowitz was chastised as a know-nothing by President Carter—the same President Carter who never troubled himself to read Dershowitz’s books on the Middle East, presumably because he was too busy plagiarizing and distorting for his Apartheid screed.

As if this isn’t bad enough, President Carter’s stupid op-ed contains numerous examples of its author’s typical anti-Israel blather, presented as if it were unvarnished truth and incapable of criticism. You know the sort of thing we’re talking about: Unfair criticism of Israel’s security fence, which fails to note that it was constructed to block those charming Palestinian suicide bombers President Carter so esteems.

Wedded to this is Carter’s bizarre faith in Muslim yearnings for peace. Take this wondrous example:

An overwhelming majority of citizens of Israel, Lebanon, Jordan, Egypt, and Palestine want peace, with justice for all who live in the Holy Land.

With all due respect to President Clinton: What the heck is this guy smoking? The “overwhelming majority” of Palestinians want peace? Uh, those would be the same folks who “overwhelmingly” elected Hamas as its official governing party. Perhaps President Carter would care to trouble himself to read Hamas’ charter. We think he’ll find it none too excited about peace.

Do us all a favor, President Carter, and shut up. Your anti-Israel fixation—unmoored as it is from evidence—is beginning to make us wonder about your motives.

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Some Questions Are Dumb Questions

As avid readers of intellectual magazines—you know, like The New Republic, The New Criterion, and Black Hair Care—we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” have recently discovered a minor pet peeve regarding them. It’s not a big deal, but we simply must mention it.

Now, naturally, dear reader, we simply love the so-called little magazines and, regardless of this irritation, we would never put them down in favor of, say, Newsweek or some other feculent mainstream fluff. Still, we would be lying if we told you that nothing bothers us about these small circulation rags.

So what, you may be asking yourself, troubles the crack young staff? Well, as we said, it’s an admittedly minor issue, but it’s vexing all the same. We refer to the mindless use of questions for the titles of pieces for which every reader in his right mind knows the answer.

Allow us to offer a few examples. Say you’re perusing Commentary and you find a piece with the following heading: “Did the Jews Steal the Arabs’ Land?” Now, unless you are a complete dunce who has never laid eyes on Commentary before, you know the magazine’s answer to that query darn well: Sure as hell not.

Now what would give that answer away? Could it be that, say, Daniel Pipes is the article’s author? Boy, his views on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict sure are inscrutable, eh?

Personally, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly” have the sneaking suspicion that even a functional illiterate—say, an American high school student—could figure out the answer from taking a gander at Commentary. Not that he’d do so, however; if our hypothetical illiterate were in fact a high school pupil in the US, he’d far prefer to use the magazine as a placemat for his bong.

Commentary, of course, isn’t the only offender of this “obvious question” irritation. In fact, far more insipid examples can easily found.

How about an article in The Nation that bears this title: “Iraq: Is It Time To Leave?” Gosh, just guess what the far-left loons at The Nation are going to say about that vexing query. After hammering home the idea that liberating Iraq was a disastrous idea since day one, perhaps they’ll finally come around to giving the occupation their blessing.

Maybe The Nation would be better served to offer questions such as the following as the titles for their unhinged ravings: “Do You Really Believe Anything Eric Alterman Says? Really?” “Is Katha Pollitt Angry at Men Because She Isn’t Attractive?” “Did the ‘Diary of a Mad Law Professor’ Lady Get her Teaching Job Due to Affirmative Action? Because She Doesn’t Make Much Sense or Write Well, Does She?”

Boy, those are some real brainteasers for the Nationistas.

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Don’t Let It Go to Your Head

By now, dear reader, you have heard the news: Time magazine, the slightly déclassé version of Newsweek (or is that the other way around?) has named you as its “person of the year.” Of course, by “you,” the editors at Time don’t mean, say, Peter Ridgley of Newark, NJ. Rather, they mean “you” in the sort of paternalistic “everyman” sense that appeals to journalistic elites.

So, break out Copland’s Fanfare for the Common Man: It’s time to salute yourselves for nabbing this prestigious award. Gosh: And your mother never thought you’d amount to much. How wrong she proved to be.

Take that, Mahmoud Ahmadinejad: You may be the nutball leader of the Iranian failed state, but you ain’t got anything on us. Or, to be more specific, you ain’t got nothing on you. Deny the Holocaust all you want; you still aren’t Time’s person of the year.

Before we continue to cast aspersions against Time’s insipid choice for “person of the year,” however, we should admit one little thing: We, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” don’t read Time. To be honest, we don’t even gander at it obliquely.

This may sound odd, but there’s a medical rationale behind our studied ignorance: For some reason, exposure to Time magazine causes us to break out in a rather nasty rash. In this respect, it’s kind of like Paris Hilton.

Perhaps this isn’t so strange: How else do you expect folks to react to a lowbrow journal that employs that self-obsessed nose-picker called Wonkette? If you ask us, if Ana Marie Cox doesn’t make you break out into hives, you’re probably deceased. Or married to her, which is far, far worse.

Actually, we think that Time magazine should be renamed to Crappy Pseudo-News Veering Dangerously Close to People Magazine—With the Exception of Robert Hughes, Who Can Actually Write. Not, we dare say, a particularly snappy title, but it has the distinct benefit of being true.

But we digress from our topic for today: Time’s cloying choice of “you” for its quasi-esteemed “person of the year.” (Or, as the feminists call it, “persyn of the year.”) Not since Prince changed his name to an unpronounceable male-female sign have we encountered such a dumb choice.

In fact, the idiocy of “you” as “person of the year” almost makes us hunger for an appallingly obtuse and predictable left-wing pick. You know, like Yasir “She’s My Baby” Arafat. Sure, good ole’ Yassir is dead. And he was a disgraceful terrorist. But at least he is an actual choice. Didn’t anyone at Time think Stanley “Tookie” Williams was a nice selection?

Is it just us, or does it seem like the folks at Time simply gave up at their annual “person of the year” meeting? To us, the staff at Time is really ‘phoning it in. We can picture the meeting now:

Secretary: “So, boss, who do you choose for our ‘person of the year’?”
Boss: “How about you. Now let’s go golfing.”

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Our Second Gracious Concession Speech

As even occasional visitors of this humble “weblog” certainly recognize, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” have lost yet again. For two straight years, we’ve been finalists for the “Best Humor Blog” category of Wizbang’s “Weblog Awards,” and for two straight years we have failed to win the gold. Or silver. Or bronze. Or Formica. If you’re keeping score.

In this year’s contest, however, we performed better than our 2005 try. For the first time, dear reader, we actually bested a few fellow agonists, thereby removing the Jamaican bobsled team stench from our outfit. If the “Weblog Awards” were the Summer Olympics, we’d probably be the Netherlands. Or maybe Denmark.

Anyway, just like last year, we decided to pen a gracious concession speech. This will allow us to offer a polite tip of the cap to the outfit that actually won the award, whilst offering the mistaken impression that our dismal failure in no way troubles us.

Without any further ado, then, here goes:

Our Gracious Concession Speech, Take Two

To all our supporter(s), we thank you (pl. or sg.) for your effort(s). Now, if you could only multiply a few hundred times, we stand a chance in the future.

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For the Love of God, Vote for Us—Take Two

Note: This humble “post” will stay atop our humble “weblog” for the duration of the “2006 Weblog Awards” voting. (You can vote for us here.) For newer material, scroll down below.

Oh, dear: Will we be remembered as the Internet equivalent of the Jamaican bobsled team? (Minus an unremarkable film starring John Candy, of course.) For two straight years, dear reader, this humble “website” has been picked as a finalist in the “Best Humor Blog” category of the quasi-prestigious “Weblog Awards” (for which you can vote here). And, unfortunately, we could make the e-history books for a rather dubious distinction.

You see, dear reader, last year we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” came in dead last. You can count all the “weblogs” we beat on no fingers. It’s sad, but it’s true.

Accordingly, we have taken it upon ourselves to exhort your unqualified support with particular zeal. Like the guy who played Kramer, we need all the help we can get. (Unlike Kramer, however, we haven’t used the N-word.)

But what can you, a diehard fan of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” do to aid us? Heck of a good question. We’re glad we made you ask it.

The following is a helpful list for those hoping to come to the rescue:

1) Vote for us in Mayor Daley fashion (early, often, and even when dead).

2) Tell all your friends and even a few people you don’t like that much to plump for us as well.

3) Kill the guy who writes Scrappleface and all the authors of the other “weblogs” we’re up against.

Okay, okay, okay: Admittedly number 2 is a little extreme. But it’s for a good cause. Think of us as the World-Wide Web equivalent of those starving African babies you see in television advertisements. Look at us: Our distended bellies, our unkempt surroundings, our warm baby-blue eyes. Wouldn’t voting for us be the moral thing to do?

Then, of course, we should add the fact that we’re knock-down drag-out funny. Why, just take a gander at some of our rapier wit:

Hate Mail Bag
The White Woman's Burden
Hunger Strike for an Instalanche
The Huffington Post: Den of Pedophiles
Fat Man, Nice Hair
Useless Idiots
Toward a Taxonomy of Female Graduate Students

And how about some greatness from 2004 and 2005:

Bridget Newman Is More Than Her Vagina
Breastcasting?
Complain, Complain, Complain
New York Review of Books, Here We Come
Academic Superstars: The Calendar!

Boy, if you ask us, that’s e-genius at its finest. So vote for us, for crying out loud. It’ll make you feel all warm and tingly inside. We guarantee it.

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Our Caring Journalists

Just yesterday, dear reader, a fan of this humble “website” dropped us a line to inform us that he had voted for us for “Best Humor Blog” in the “2006 Weblog Awards.” In addition, this regular reader chastised us for dilating on this nugatory award whilst the control of the US Senate hangs in the balance. Don’t you think, he asked rhetorically, that you have better things to discuss at this critical juncture?

To which we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” reply: Come on, sir. Darn near every journalist—from the staffs of Time, Black Hair Care, and Cat Fancy—are covering the Tim Johnson stroke story. And pardon us for getting all high and mighty, but we find the tenor of this incessant discussion a mite disturbing.

Let’s review the facts (or as Nietzsche would say, the interpretations). Democratic Senator Tim Johnson of South Dakota recently suffered a possible stroke whilst immersed in an interview.

Incidentally, we know this in part because the paragons of moral rectitude at NPR (National Palestinian Radio) delightfully played the audio clip of Senator Johnson’s attack. How lovely: We wonder if the powers-that-be at NPR would like their families’ medical disasters to be broadcast thus.

After this supposed stroke, the Senator was rushed to the hospital, where he has undergone major surgery. Given the life-and-death nature of the story, one could reasonably assume that our journalist friends would care a great deal about Senator Johnson’s health. Is he going to be okay? We sure hope so. &c.

Ah, but that’s not the angle that intrigues our media buddies. Rather, the title of The Wall Street Journal’s piece on Senator Johnson gives us a sense of the magnanimity of the journalistic profession: “Johnson Illness Imperils Democrats’ Senate Control.”

Come again? Uh, gee: doesn’t Senator Johnson’s illness also imperil Senator Johnson? We don’t mean to come across like a passel of bleeding hearts, but the fellow is in grave condition. Wouldn’t it be nice to can the political jabber for a bit? Wouldn’t it be nice to hope and pray for him?

Yes, yes, we know: The Democrats’ control of the Senate in the upcoming session of Congress is so slim that the Senator from South Dakota is needed to sustain the majority. But for crying out loud: The guy may die. Show a little bit of respect.

We don’t mean to sound like Howard Kurtz (believe us on that one), but we can’t help but see the coverage of this story as an instance of media skullduggery utterly unrelated to liberal media bias. (Or, as Eric Alterman would have it, conservative media bias.) The hacks and talking heads merely want a story, and they don’t care if it kills a man.

As such, as long as Senator Johnson is ill, we can delight in 24-7 coverage of a “What If He Dies?” nature. Ah, the charms of the media.

Posted at 12:01 AM | TrackBack

The 11th Hour

Well, dear reader, let’s be honest with ourselves: It’s not looking too good. (That wasn’t too hard, was it, President Bush?)

We refer, of course, to the “2006 Weblog Awards.” As everyone familiar with Al Gore’s World-Wide Web undoubtedly knows, this humble “weblog” is up for the prestigious “Best Humor Blog” distinction in the “2006 Weblog Awards” (for which you can vote here). And yet, as even a cursory look at the numbers will inform you, we’re running into something of a brick wall. An e-brick wall, if you will.

We’re not, we hasten to add, in last place. That dubious distinction is currently bestowed on a “weblog” delicately titled “The Dick List.” Sure, we’ve always dreamed that one fine day that—if we worked hard enough and paid our dues—we’d be good enough to trump “The Dick List.” We all have, we’d imagine.

Even so, given our overall lackluster e-performance, the realization of this dream hasn’t really lived up to what we’d hoped for. Be careful what you wish for, indeed.

It’s sad, but it’s true: This humble Internet outpost simply lacks the fan base to tussle with the big fish. And, in this case, by “big fish” we mean “a crappy ‘website’ run by a French-Canadian with the sissy name Seb.”

Still, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” refuse to throw in the towel. Rather, like M.L. Carr throughout his illustrious bench-warming career with the Celtics, we’ll take that towel and wave it in the air in an attempt to rile up our fans. We’ll wave it in the air like we just don’t care, you might say. “The voting isn’t over,” we bellow. “Come on, fans, plump for us one more time!”

Okay, this last ditch attempt to surmount the insurmountable may seem quixotic to some observers. It is very possible that we have the mephitic stench of Katherine Harris all over us. (Alas, we lack her plastic surgeon.) Dennis Kucinich may sport a better chance of being Diminutive-Oaf-in-Chief than we have at winning “Best Humor Blog” honors. But we don’t give a darn.

Call us the Carol Moseley Braun of the “2006 Weblog Awards.” It’s fitting—even though we’re not ethically challenged and most of us aren’t black. And, last we checked, we weren’t endorsed by the National Organization for Women. (For some odd reason, NOW hasn’t endorsed a candidate for the “Best Humor Blog” award. Perhaps Christopher Hitchens can tell us why that’s so.)

Anyway, dear reader, once again we exhort you: The voting officially ends Friday and we need your help. So please cast your ballot for us. If you don’t do so, we may turn this “weblog” into a Kiss appreciation “website.”

Posted at 12:01 AM | TrackBack

Did the Holocaust Happen? Gee, That's a Tough One

Amongst the nominees for “Best Weblog” in the “2006 Weblog Awards” is The Huffington Post, Arianna Huffington’s latest attempt to show the world that she’s important because she married money. With few exceptions, the Huff Po is a beacon of defiant paleo-liberalism and many of its readers—if the comments on its “posts” are indicative of its appeal—hail from the loopier precincts of the Left.

Accordingly, like many other ideological “weblogs,” the Huff Po tends to dismiss stories that don’t fit its overarching political goals. Whilst, for example, the right-wing “website” Little Green Footballs fails to mention earnest instances of anti-Muslim bigotry, the Huffsters tend to ignore stories highlighting the threat of Islamist terrorism and appropriate responses by the Bush administration to this menace.

One might have thought, however, that the recent Iranian conference on the Holocaust would be a giant exception. After all, the Iranian government—whose president has repeatedly waxed menacing about his desire to wipe Israel off the map—sponsored an event that aimed to discuss whether the Holocaust happened.

We, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” understand that our non-Israeli friends in the Middle East are a little behind-the-times on some of the latest advances of civilization. You know: Stoning, the beating of women, honor killing—these sorts of things may be hunky dory in Tehran, but most Westerners actually frown upon them. Except, of course, our feminist pals, who simultaneously champion gay marriage and the sovereign rights of the Taliban.

But a conference on whether the Holocaust occurred? What’s next: Does gravity exist? Was Stalin a Communist? Is Hillary Clinton a bit mannish?

We earnestly hoped that the Huffsters would have discussed this outrageous conference, given its appalling racism. Any colloquy bent on discussing the Holocaust and attended by legions of anti-Semitic kooks and Klansmen deserves descrying no matter what your politics, we thought.

Apparently not. After all, bringing up this disgraceful event makes Iran look bad, which, apparently, the Huffsters want to avoid. Perhaps, they think, it’ll compel their readers to infer that George Bush seems okay by comparison.

To this end, we could only find one discussion of the event at the Huff Po, penned by the comparatively reasonable Adam Hanft. Sure, it chiefly concerned itself with the Iraq Study Group’s findings and American foreign policy. Still, at least Mr. Hanft was willing to call a spade a spade and castigate the execrable Iranian conference.

Ah, but most of Mr. Hanft’s delightful Huff Po readers would have none of it. Faced with sanity, they decided—mirabile dictu—to run away. Why, just take a look at this charming response to his piece:

Interesting how there is so much outrage in the western press about the "denial" conference, when the foreign ministry has made it clear this conference is not about denying anything. Just a discussion. What is wrong with a discussion? We are allowed to discuss anything but the holocaust? Why be afraid?

By: sunshineonthebay on December 12, 2006 at 12:59pm

Ah, yes: Why should anyone be upset that a deeply anti-Semitic regime with dreams of acquiring nuclear capabilities and eliminating Israel would host a conference chock-a-block with Jew-haters that discussed whether the Holocaust happened? Gosh, we can’t think of a reason either.

We suppose the author of this charming “post” would love it if some government that aimed to kill all blacks sponsored a discussion for assorted Klansmen on whether slavery occurred. What would be troubling about that? You complete dipstick.

Come on, people on the Left: Enough of the “the enemy of my enemy is my friend” garbage. This is a simple matter of morals: If your ideology compels you to defend the government of Iran, you really ought to rethink your positions.

Posted at 12:01 AM | TrackBack

Sadly, Lame! or The Dearth of Republican Samba Bands

Well, our attack has born fruit. As we mentioned in a previous “post,” negative advertising works like a charm. Accordingly, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” recently (and stupidly) took aim at a “weblog” entitled Sadly, No!, which is amongst our competition for the “Best Humor Blog” award in the “2006 Weblog Awards.”

In a few short days, the intellectual eminences at Sadly, No! have responded by…likening us to a dog listening to “Yakety Sax” by Boots Randolph. Um, yeah: We didn’t think it was exactly e-genius either. Come on, Seb: Where’s that French-Canadian fighting spirit?

If the Sadly, No! retort was more than a mite lame, their readers’ response was unintentionally hilarious. We, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” guffawed and guffawed at the illiterate ramblings of the Sadly, No! commenters, delighting in their pinheaded musings.

You know the sort of thing we mean, dear reader: “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly” sucks. It’s conservative. It’s lame. Blah, blah, blah.

To which we respond: Good ones, guys. No wonder you waste your time penning feckless comments for the benefit of a guy named Seb. That’s a darn good use of your time.

One particular comment from the Sadly, No! peanut gallery particularly delighted us, and we think it deserves a bit of discussion. Written by one Douglas Watts, it is so knuckle-draggingly stupid that it makes the other comments seem like the work of Proust. In essence, Mr. Watts’ point—if one may bestow that lofty title on his vapidity—is the following: The only humor Republicans can muster is a collection of N****** jokes.

Yep: That’s gags with the N-word, a shameful epithet we don’t find suitable for printing, but Mr. Watts fully enjoys typing, it seems. As if this “argument” isn’t sufficiently pathetic, his peroration is even worse:

That’s why there is no Republican music. Or art. Or dance. Or humor. Or art. [What about Republican redundancy?—Ed.]

That’s why Republicans basically hate all artistic expression and want to ban it, defund it and shut it down.

Where are all the good Republican jazz bands? Rock bands? Rap bands? Samba bands? Reggae bands?

The only true Republican form of music since Hitler is Skinhead music. Ummm … and the chicks are all over that. It’s so danceable.

Oh, dear: Mr. Watts isn’t exactly a brain-trust, now is he? First, we should note that his obsession with politics is warping his aesthetics (if he actually has any aesthetic sense, which is highly doubtful). We were unaware that, say, jazz bands were compelled to inform their audiences of their American political party affiliations. What will European jazz artists do, since they can’t vote in America? Tell us, Mr. Watts: Was Homer a Democrat?

But we particularly savored the bit about the “only true Republican form of music since Hitler is Skinhead [sic] music.” Uh, was Hitler a Republican? Or are modern-day skinheads—most of whose views on Jews and Israel fit solidly with the contemporary American hard Left?

Unlike the dunderheaded Mr. Watts, we don’t group our artists by American political party affiliation. For obvious reasons unclear to the short-bus Mr. Watts, such a grouping makes no sense. Nor do we think that people of one particular political persuasion are funnier than those of others.

Still, for the benefit of the benighted oafs who read Sadly, No!, we suppose we ought to defend the myriad artists, writers, and musicians whom one might reasonably call conservative in some sense or other. To this end, we mention only literary figures, and we offer this woefully incomplete and haphazard list of “conservatives”:

James Joyce, Evelyn Waugh, G.K. Chesterton, Jonathan Swift, D.H. Lawrence, T.S. Eliot, Ezra Pound, Kingsley Amis, Tom Wolfe, Saul Bellow, W.B. Yeats, Joseph Conrad, Rudyard Kipling.

To Mr. Watts, we’d imagine, that’s merely a group of skinheads. Those more sensitive to literary matters might note that they make one fine collection of authors.

But you needn’t take our word for it. Here’s a delightful passage from the academic critic Eugene Goodheart, culled from his collection Culture and the Radical Conscience (Harvard, 1973):

Any honest view of the political character of works of literature will have to account for the fact that during the last two centuries there exists an inverse relation between the aesthetic quality of a work of literature and radical politics—especially in works of art in which the political content is explicit and central. I have in mind the political novels of Flaubert, Conrad, Tolstoy, and Dostoevsky and the poetry of great modern poets like Yeats, Eliot, and Pound. There are to be sure exceptions: Rimbaud, Mayakovsky, and certain surrealists. But it is a remarkable fact that the literary imagination since the French revolution has been more often than not skeptical or conservative or outrightly reactionary in relation to radical or revolutionary claims—in politics, if not in art.

So, Mr. Watts: You can enjoy your Edward Bellamy. We far prefer Finnegans Wake. How do you like 'dem apples?

Posted at 12:01 AM | TrackBack

Try, Try Again

“The liberation of Iraq was a good idea; its execution is merely lacking.” Thus do numerous supporters of Saddam Hussein’s ouster assess our current problems in Mesopotamia. Although numerous conservative critics remain hopeful about Iraq’s future—Norman Podhoretz and Victor Davis Hanson come to mind—a number of pundits have taken this line of argument.

“Balderdash,” say our left-wing friends. The quagmire in Iraq is the direct result of the stupid, myopic, ahistorical idea to invade the sovereign nation in the first place. To blame the aftermath of the Iraq War on the war’s execution, they say, is foolish and disgusting. It was impossible to bring democracy to a country like Iraq, they suggest, demonstrating the dehumanization of Middle Easterners that many quizzically see as pro-Arab.

We, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” count ourselves among that shrinking group of Americans who don’t think that the fat lady has sung in Iraq. In fact, we have the sneaking suspicion that, if the mainstream media today were covering World War II, they would have clamored for FDR’s impeachment already.

And Truman? Oh, forget it: How, they’d bellow, can you bring democracy to a country like Japan? Maybe, just maybe the same folks who harp and harpie on the horrors of Guantanamo would have been slightly troubled by the atomic bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki—even though it was ordered by a Democrat.

Yet this is not, dear reader, the focus of today’s lucubration. Rather, we pine to make a point about the folks who scoff at the “problem of execution” line of argument. For some reason, these lads and lasses take a rather hard line on this issue—though in regard to other matters they prove far more forgiving.

Take, for example, the topic of Communism. How many times have you endured the following argument from your pals on the Left: “Communism wasn’t necessarily a bad idea. It was merely executed improperly”? We, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” have overheard that line umpteen times, most often from people who live in lovely homes in the suburbs. Volvo drivers of the world, unite!

It’s very quizzical, is it not? To our buddies on the Left, the civil strife in Iraq is proof positive that the case for invasion was wrong and evil. But the millions and millions killed by dozens of Communist governments during the course of the 20th century don’t prove Marx, Engels, and countless faculty lounges wrong.

The liberation of Iraq was attempted once, and it is still too soon to determine what the result will be. The world witnessed numerous Communist governments, and they brought disaster and mass-murder every time. The Left sure does argue funny.

Posted at 12:01 AM | TrackBack

Going Negative, Part One: Sadly, Yes!

It’s high time that we let a poorly kept secret out of the bag: Negative campaigning works like a charm. Sure, the politicos in DC won’t tell you that on the record, but it’s truer than Spandau Ballet.

If you don’t want to take our word for it, you don’t have to—just ask Michael Dukakis. That poor bastard received such a savage Willie Horton-ing that our spellchecker doesn’t even recognize his surname. Man, that’s harsh; perhaps it’s so tough that his wife will take to the bottle.

Anyway, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” bring up our little nugget of wisdom regarding negative campaigning for a particularly good reason. As everyone hip to Al Gore’s World-Wide Web must know, we’re up for the vaguely prestigious “Best Humor Blog” award for the “2006 Weblog Awards,” and we need as many people as possible to vote for us each and every day.

As anyone with a pulse would have guessed, we find ourselves a bit outgunned at the moment. Sure, we’re doing a tad better than last year. But, if we recall correctly, we were beaten like a Saudi Arabian wife in the earlier contest.

Accordingly, dear reader, we have decided to play a little electoral hardball. If we can’t exhort you to plump for us, perhaps we can compel you to stay away from the polls altogether. To mangle Harold Arlen, it’s time to accentuate the negative, eliminate the positive, and do something-or-other to the in-between. You get our drift.

In today’s humble “post,” then, we’ve decided to take aim at one of our competitors. Since a “weblog” called “Sadly, No!” is currently in first place, we figured that we’d start with it. (Of course, we when say “is currently in first place,” we also mean “is the only lefty ‘weblog’ amongst a sea of right-leaning ‘websites.’” That is a sure-fire way to success in the “Weblog Awards,” as anyone who can say Jesus’ General can attest.)

Now, we must say that the folks at “Sadly, No. 1” have very much helped us out with our intended excoriation. In fact, we think we’d have a hard time ridiculing these folks, since they seem so taken with unintentionally ridiculing themselves. Take, for instance, Wikipedia’s description of the “weblog,” which its authors have seen fit to reproduce on their “site”:

The site’s main running joke is in finding embarrassing slips or untrue statements by conservatives and linking to a refutation, saying, “Sadly, No!” Other running gags include posting pictures of conservative columnists on Internet dating sites, battling with a “singing troll” who sends homemade songs deriding the site’s contributors and commenters, and doing line-by-line putdowns of columns by Christian evangelists and other right-wingers. Sadly, No! also occasionally publishes phony columns at right-wing sites, and engages in other pranks.

Hysterical, is it not? Boy, that “Sadly, No!” gag must be a real knee-slapper. But wait: It gets even better:

Current contributors include site founder Seb, a French-Canadian financial analyst living in Germany…

Ah: That’s the secret to the success of “Sadly, Beating Us”: French-Canadian financial analysts living in Germany are always side-splittingly hilarious. Talk about an advantage. As if that’s not enough, the fellow’s name is Seb. Seb, for crying out loud! You might as well paint a mustache and goatee on the chap. Would you like some clove cigarettes, Sebastian?

Well, that certainly accounts for “Sadly, Winning’s” impressive performance thus far. But, since it is unlikely that the other candidates are named Seb, we think we still have a fighting chance. So, dear reader, go ahead and vote for us!

Posted at 12:01 AM | TrackBack

Impeach Adlai Stevenson!

Like all God-fearing Americans, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” spend lots of time traipsing around the left-wing “weblogosphere.” If you ask us, the lefty nutters who froth and foam about contemporary politics make for enjoyable reading. We consider their nonsense one of the great gifts of Al Gore’s Internet. (Here’s another: Pictures of a semi-clad Tipper.)

Now, when we say “lefty nutters,” we don’t mean reasonable liberals of the New Republic variety. One might quibble with the Peter Beinarts of the world, but he and his ilk are intelligent, grounded folk—far more compelling than crazy right-wingers like, say, Grover Norquist. (That man would run over his cousin in a Buick if it would lower taxes.) No: When we refer to “lefty nutters,” we most assuredly mean “lefty nutters.”

You know the kind of people we’re talking about, dear reader. They have a hard time sleeping because of the machinations of “the evil President Bush and his fascist, war-mongering minions.” They can’t think straight because they’re so enraged by the “Zionist conspiracy that led to 9/11.” They got into a car wreck because they plastered so many anti-Bush stickers on their automobile that they couldn’t see through the windows.

In a just world, such people would be confined to the very margins of society. You know, the places where lunatics hang out—like asylums and academia.

But no: Apparently we don’t inhabit a just world. Boy, that’s news to us. And thus our frequent perusals of the World-Wide Web lead us to believe that the far Left has a welcome home on the Internet. Not, we hasten to add, a home sufficiently large to get Ned Lamont elected, but a house nevertheless.

Frankly, dear reader, taking in all these hardcore lefty screeds has left our minds reeling. How many times can you read minute variations on the same “Can-You-Believe-Evil-Chimpy-McHitler” theme and remain of entirely sound mind? We have the funny feeling that, if our reading habits remain the same, we’re bound to find out.

As crazy as these left-wing jeremiads are, however, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” think they can get even more unhinged. If you ask us, the typical arch-liberal diatribe suffers from a failure of imagination. It’s just a congeries of the same flaccid arguments, over, and over, and over. You know: Kind of like Keith Olbermann.

“Impeach Bush!” they shout, oblivious to American political realities. “Impeach Cheney!” To which we respond: Ho-hum.

Why not spruce things up a bit with a less cookie-cutter approach. Come on, lefties: Why not clamor to “Impeach Adlai Stevenson”?

Sure, Stevenson was never president. And he was a Democrat. And he’s dead. But, we figure, he’s got about as much chance to be impeached as George Bush. At least an “Impeach Stevenson” “post” would grab our attention.

Posted at 12:01 AM | TrackBack

“Neutral Judges”

Take a gander at the following quotation: “We weren't involved in this event so we can be a neutral judge.” To what do you think it refers? Nancy Grace’s disgraceful hectoring of her guests? The ineluctably anti-Israel findings of James Baker’s feculent Iraq Study Group? The Hamburglar?

Good guesses, those. But they’re dead wrong. These words dribbled from the lips of Manouchehr Mohammadi, from Iran’s foreign ministry's research and education office. And, as the article from London’s Guardian from which they were culled makes clear, they refer to the Holocaust. Yep, you read that correctly—the Holocaust.

You see, dear reader, the loveable scamps from Iran have planned a spirited intellectual colloquy, to determine—reasonably enough—whether the Holocaust occurred. Boy, that’s a real brainteaser. Charming, isn’t it? Surely it’s one of the grandest scholarly events in Persian history—at least since the Shah was deposed.

And to think no foreigners yearn to study in prestigious Iranian universities! Maybe their meal plans are lacking?

Naturally, the mad mullahs of Iran thought that they’d prove impartial judges on the topic, since they obviously have no dog in this fight. At least we can’t think of one. As such, who wouldn’t believe Mr. Mohammadi when he claims: “Our aim is to scientifically study the Holocaust and listen to both sides before reaching a conclusion”?

Eminently respectable, is it not? Perhaps the cheerful Iranian regime will finally get to the bottom of a thorny problem that has vexed scorching anti-Semites and deranged neo-Nazis for decades.

As an upstanding lackey for the peaceable Iranian regime, Mr. Mohammadi is naturally concerned about spurious charges linking the upcoming conference to Muslim anti-Semitism. We think he proves particularly adept at denying these baseless contentions. About the larger meaning of the gathering, he says: “Our policy doesn't mean we want to defend the crimes of Hitler.”

Oh, great: Thanks for clearing that up. Color us convinced.

We, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” are sorry we’re going to miss this meeting of the minds. First, we won’t get a chance to see Profs. Mearsheimer and Walt offer their presentation. That’s a real pity: Don’t their prestigious university affiliations make anti-Semitism seem so much more respectable? If you ask us, it’s like Himmler in Tweed.

And, of course, we’ll also miss out on President Jimmy Carter’s rousing contribution to the assembly. That’s unfortunate: We savor President Carter’s learned musings on the Middle East almost as much as we treasure his tin-eared poetry. Gosh: “Stagflation,” anti-Zionism, atrocious doggerel, and blithering incompetence—can anyone explain why Carter isn’t deemed the greatest President in US history?

Posted at 12:01 AM | TrackBack

You Ask, You Decide

Chris Wallace, the anchor for the television program “Fox News Sunday,” has caused a stir or two in recent months. As is well known, Mr. Wallace earned the finger-wagging ire of President Bill Clinton for daring to ask one tough question about the Clinton administration’s failure to capture Osama bin Laden.

More recently, Barney Frank, a Democratic congressman from Massachusetts, was in a huff over his interview with Mr. Wallace, arguing that the television host failed to offer his audience an accurate impression of the matters up for discussion.

Clearly, our pals in the Democratic Party don’t much care for media outfits that aren’t in their pockets. And who could blame them? Tough questions are, after all, tough. As a result, our lefty politicians far prefer the “mainstream media” outlets, which present a far less hostile environment to liberals.

Take, for example, Tim Russert’s mind-blowingly feculent interview with Jimmy Carter, former failed President, humanitarian, and Jew-hater. On “Meet the Press,” the typically tough Mr. Russert offered what must be the most pathetic softball group of questions imaginable to President Carter, even though Carter presented a string of dubious points on which any real journalist should have pounced. That, think our Democratic pals, is a much more congenial interview.

But what to do about Mr. Wallace? Surely he can’t go around asking Democrats difficult questions. That might give the American people the erroneous impression that the contemporary Democratic Party isn’t pure political perfection.

We, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” think we have come up with a reasonable solution to this vexing problem. If Mr. Wallace would simply follow our advice, he’d no longer earn the opprobrium of those delicate Democratic politicos.

We call our solution “You Ask, You Decide,” and we think it’ll do the trick perfectly. Here’s how it goes. Before any interview with a Democratic politician, Mr. Wallace must ask his interviewee for a list of acceptable questions. During the taping, Mr. Wallace merely asks questions from the list—and questions from the list alone. A crisis averted!

In fact, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” will suggest a few queries for a future interview with Bill Clinton. Instead of his naggingly appropriate questions, we think that the following questions would earn him President Cliinton’s favor:

1) President Clinton, you seem like a real lady-killer. Do women quite fancy you? Why would that be?

5) President Clinton, a lot of women would like to have sexual intercourse with you. Could you tell us how they could accomplish this goal?

Yeah, that’d be far more to Clinton’s liking.

Posted at 12:01 AM | TrackBack

Someone Please Give Gwyneth Paltrow a Sandwich

God bless our computer’s spell-checker. For some marvelous yet inexplicable reason, it fails to recognize both “Gwyneth” and “Paltrow.” Of course, it also knows nothing of “postcolonialism” and “neoconservatism,” so perhaps our spell-checker was originally designed for use with an abacus. It seems more behind the times than a Chia Pet.

Regardless of the reason, our spell-checker delightfully professes ignorance about one of the most irksomely self-obsessed of American entertainers. We, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” wish we could say the same for us.

Oh, how charming life would be if Gwyneth Paltrow—the full-time anorexic who moonlights as an actress—failed to register on our collective radar screen! How beautiful that would be!

By now, dear reader, you have undoubtedly heard that Ms. Paltrow is currently making amends for putting her extremely slim foot in her extremely slim mouth. In an interview quoted on the Drudge Report (so you know it has to be true), Ms. Paltrow claimed that the “British are much more civilized and intelligent than the Americans.”

To which we respond: Uh, Gwyneth, that’s “civilised.” If you’re going to come down with a case of Anglophilia, you might as well get the British spelling right. You bloody fool.

Apparently, some of America’s rabid right-wing “webloggers” are in a huff over Ms. Paltrow’s slight (if you will). We’re sorry if we’re not as jingoistic as our angry fellow citizens, but forgive us if we fail to get enraged at this nincompoop’s insult.

We mean, come on: She dated Ben Affleck, for crying out loud. She was in Shallow Hal, pound for pound (if you will) the most insipid movie of all time. And she married some Neanderthal pop star who has made a decent living off of a passable Bono impression.

Not, we dare say, real intellectual material. We have the sneaking suspicion that Ms. Paltrow doesn’t read back issues of Partisan Review before bedtime. After all, those George Orwell articles don’t have any pictures.

And let’s not even mention the fact that starving yourself to death in order to look sexy as a rail isn’t exactly fiendishly clever. For someone who can claim to have helped girls worldwide generate eating disorders, she’s really not in a position to judge other people’s smarts.

So, dear reader, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” are fully prepared to allow Ms. Paltrow to excoriate these here United States of America. Sure, the US may have horrid dental care in comparison with the UK. It may also boast distinctly inferior pudding. And thank the Lord that Ms. Paltrow has the right to express her opinion.

But, this being a free country, we possess that right as well. So here goes: Gwyneth Paltrow is a stuck-up, no-talent moron who only became a film star because of her parents’ connections. Gee, Gwyneth: How do you like a little freedom of speech, American style?

Posted at 12:01 AM | TrackBack

The Big Day?

Well, dear reader, December 5 is the day we have all been waiting for. And by “we” we mean “pathetically self-obsessed ‘webloggers’ who pretend to be more down-to-earth than mainstream journalists but are actually as sickeningly narcissistic as they.” Yeah: You know who you are.

You guessed it: On December 5—a very short day away—the official finalists for the “2006 Weblog Awards” shall be announced. Since a number of kindly readers of this humble “weblog” have nominated “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly” for a category or two, you can well imagine that we’re extremely nervous, full of anticipation. We’ve got more butterflies than a guy with lots of butterflies.

After all, this year’s “Weblog Awards” could mark our triumphant comeback from last year’s fiasco. As longtime enthusiasts of this “weblog” well know, the “2005 Weblog Awards” didn’t treat us terribly well. Although we landed a nice spot as an official finalist for the “Best Humor Blog” category, we were pretty much outgunned from the start.

As you can well imagine, this was well-nigh mortifying for the crack young staff. Whilst something called Jesus’ General basked in all manner of votes, our humble “weblog” fared worse than a Hitler for President campaign. Thank God we didn’t spend too much of our retirement money on television advertising.

Now, in our own defense, we must add a few important details: The clever lads and lasses behind the “2005 Weblog Awards” failed to spell our “weblog’s” name correctly on its roster of “Humor Weblog” finalists. That certainly didn’t make things any easier. We mean, come on: Do you think we would have had the same results in 1992 if “Bill Clunton” were on the ballot? We collectively think not.

Secondly, we would be remiss if we failed to mention that nobody seems to read this humble “weblog.” By this, we’re not inferring that nobody famous takes in our musings—Lindsey Lohan, say, or the lead singer of Loverboy. No: We mean that absolutely no one appears to like us. Not even our mothers.

It’s sad, dear reader, but it’s apparently true. Unless, of course, we find ourselves nominated for a prestigious “2006 Weblog Awards” category—like “Most Scintillating Use of Fecal Matter and a Cat Stevens Album”—and we spank the competition like a red-headed step child. That, as our old pal Steve Windwood would say, would put us back in the highlife again.

Posted at 12:01 AM | TrackBack

The Internet Kiss of Death

Lots of people write their own “weblogs,” the Internet equivalent of a semi-public diary. We’ve long said that “weblogging” is one of Al Gore’s greatest gifts to humankind. All a prospective “weblogger” must do, it seems, is happen upon a marginally clever title for one’s musings, learn a handful of “html” commands, and start typing away.

Pretty soon, you’re darn near guaranteed to have around three readers, all of whom accidentally stumbled upon your “website” whilst searching for “on-line” pornography. (That’ll teach you to name a “post” “Three Cows and a Midget.”) It’s an exhilarating feeling: Penning feckless barbs for five people, three of whom hate your guts. Naturally, we heartily recommend it.

Now, since we heartily recommend the life of a “weblogger” (apt phrase, that), we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” figured that we’d offer a bit of advice for the World-Wide-Web novice dying to get started. Yeah: We’re that magnanimous. You don’t need to thank us: We do it for the intrinsic satisfaction.

So, what kind of help can we offer? That’s a darn good question. First, we suppose we should mention that you shouldn’t name your “weblog” “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly.” Obviously, we’re not dissuading you from this for entirely altruistic reasons: If you Sununu the title of our “weblog,” we’ll be mighty peeved.

Also, though, if you entitle your “weblog” “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” you’re likely to receive all manner of e-mails limp-wristedly chiding you for your choice. Take our collective word for it.

This takes us to a more important bit of e-advice. If you aim to write a “weblog” that lasts longer than the lifespan of a fruit fly, then don’t ask us for a “link.” As far as we can intuit, winding up on our “weblogroll” is tantamount to a one-way ticket to Failure Town (population: 5,576,478,894,103).

If Edward Hopper could see our “weblogroll,” he’d surely call it an e-boulevard of broken dreams. We’re not particularly proud of this, of course, but that doesn’t stop it from being painfully true.

It’s as if earning a spot on our “weblogroll” immediately alerts some odd Russian Internet mafia, which manages to bump off everyone listed on “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly.” Time after time, we “link” to a “website” only to find out that its author mysteriously vanished the moment we noticed him.

To add insult to injury, the only “weblog” for which we’re the “weblog father” lasted all of two days. Sure, it was a pretty good run. But a sixteen-year-old boy has more stamina, for crying out loud.

Sure, sure: There are a few gems on our “weblogroll,” whose authors have managed to stave off the Russian Internet underground. But they are few and far between. So, unless you desperately desire to “weblog” but have only one “post” in you, we suggest you stay clear of us.

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