Fearless “Boob Swapping”

Among the sundry things about ourselves that we don’t like to admit, dear reader, is the fact that we regularly read the Huffington Post. As far as we’re concerned, telling people that you so much as scan the old Huff Po is tantamount to confessing that you enjoy child pornography. Or that you sleep with Nancy Grace. At any rate, something really, really bad.

For us, however, Arianna Huffington’s exercise in e-self-celebration is much like a car wreck: We don’t want to watch, but we can’t keep our eyes away. (For some reason, Arianna isn’t the same way; in her case, we don’t want to watch, and we most assuredly can keep our eyes away.)

One particular part of the ole’ Huffy Po that we find particularly amusing is its “Fearless Voices” section. Although the wealthy Ms. Huffington pretends as if this portion of her “weblog” is indebted to championing women with testicular fortitude (or some such), it’s obviously just a ploy to sell her latest insta-book, which boasts the word “fearless” in its title.

For some reason or other, the “posts” in the “Fearless Voices” section tend to be even more inane than the typical lefty palaver found elsewhere on the “website.” And we must say that it amuses us.

Take, for instance, a charming piece penned by one Lisa Goldstein called—and we kid you not—“Swapping Breasts.” Uh, “Swapping Breasts”? What in the good Lord’s name could that discuss?

Well, we’ll allow Ms. Goldstein’s first few sentences speak for themselves:

Apparently, there are some breastfeeding swingers out there who nurse each other’s babies. The babies are then known as “milk siblings.”

Ah, yes: Fearless voices! Does it get any more intrepid than a discussion of what Ms. Goldstein labels “boob swapping”? We collectively think not.

Well, not to ruin Ms. Goldstein’s magnum opus, but it turns out that she’s firmly opposed (if you’ll pardon the pun) to “boob swapping.” In fact, she finds it downright unsanitary—even dangerous.

Boy, we know what you’re going to say: How preternaturally fearless of her! What a profile in courage!

Sure, Ms. Goldstein never appears to have heard of a wet nurse. But, hey, she’s clearly spending all of her time either breastfeeding or committing other acts of outrageous fearlessness, so we suppose we shouldn’t hold that against her or her non-swinging breasts.

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A Little Self-Critical Sanity Regarding the “Weblogosphere”

Every few weeks or so, dear reader, it seems as if some bigwig (or not-so-bigwig) from the much-vaunted mainstream media causes a brouhaha by excoriating “webloggers.” It’s getting pretty predictable: On a given Tuesday, an upstart from, say, The Wall Street Journal, or, say, The Spectator says something disparaging about “weblogs” and all heck breaks loose.

That obtuse hack! How dare he misconstrue the “weblogosphere”! He’s a complete moron! Thus do sundry “webloggers” and commenters shout in response all across Al Gore’s World-Wide Web.

Now, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” are ourselves the proprietors of a “weblog.” A smashing and deeply popular “weblog,” of course, but a “weblog” nonetheless. Accordingly, one might infer that we have great sympathy for the legions of fellow e-scribes who rip into “webloggers’” critics.

And, we should say, we do—up to a point. Given the threat that Al Gore’s Internet undoubtedly offers to mainstream media outlets, we have the sneaking suspicion that many of these journalists’ demolitions of the “weblogosphere” betray great nervousness about the future of print media. Hence the vitriol one often finds in these rants: They reek of the distinct aroma of fear.

Still, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” would be remiss if we failed to mention that we don’t find these anti-“weblogging” screeds entirely without merit. In fact, oftentimes we share some of their criticisms.

For one, journalists often note the ill-tempered rants of many “webloggers” and commenters. Now, to be sure, we don’t tend to find “weblog” “posts” much more inflammatory than, say, Frank Rich’s weekly columns in the Gray Lady, in which Mr. Rich routinely casts the President of the United States as a deeply delusional lunatic. If that’s an example of good manners, we hate to see the bad ones.

Even so, we think it entirely true that the level of discourse on the World-Wide Web can be frighteningly low. In fact, we’ve received our share of whacko e-mails, penned by unhinged authors basking in their e-anonymity. Quite frankly, these don’t leave us with a good impression of the intellectual climate of the “weblogs.”

More importantly, we think that most comments on “weblogs” are complete rubbish. As regular readers of this humble “website” well know, we have never allowed comments; if a reader has something to say, he can always send us an e-mail. But we just can’t take the umpteen retorts written by functional illiterates with severe learning disabilities. Who the heck wants to read something like:

They should kil Busch and Chaney, for, being such Evil men, together.

Sorry if we offend you, but we don’t think this speaks wonders for the Internet.

So, come on, fellow “webloggers”: Just admit it. The Internet is great; it has allowed citizen pseudo-journalists the opportunity to check up on the mainstream media, and has done much to expose their bias and flaws. Although “webloggers” far more often comment on first-hand reporting than offer examples of it themselves, they provide a valuable service.

But let’s not overreact. Surely there is room for improvement, and the touchiness is more than a mite pathetic.

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Some Un-careful Ruminations on Academia

Here’s a shocker for you: American academia tilts very heavily to the Left. Yeah, you heard it here first: A large number of college professors in the USA are big time radicals. In fact, they greatly outnumber their conservative colleagues.

We know what you’re thinking, dear reader: Thanks for that illustrious “Profile in the Obvious.” What are you going to tell us next—that a circle is round?

Well, in fact a circle is round. But that’s not what we’re getting at. (And, to be honest, we thought you would have known that. Go figure.) Rather, we mention the political climate of academe for another reason: The obvious partisan tilt covers up a more important matter. Simply put, it is this: Many American academics are lousy.

By this, we don’t necessarily mean lousy people, although we’re sure that universities have their fair share of odious folks. Instead, we’re referring to the fact that lots of American academics are simply bad at their jobs. They don’t teach well, they don’t connect with students, and they write moronic, obtuse scholarship.

Frankly, dear reader, we think this is a far more pressing matter than David Horowitz’s crusade to thrust himself in the media limelight. As noble is the goal of making American colleges intellectually diverse, it is more important for universities to stop hiring dolts.

We mean, come on: Sure, a professor’s attempt to force your kids to embrace Maoism is insulting. But 99 times out of 100 it isn’t going to work: Your son or daughter is spending too much time imbibing Jell-O shots and engaging in acquaintance rape to care about Mao Zedong. If anything, your little kiddie will leave Professor Mao’s class thinking its instructor is at least mildly pathetic.

But think about this: Lots of professors are horribly bad teachers, shirk students like the plague, and force underpaid adjuncts to take over their classes for them. It’s sad, but it’s true: Bias will hamper your kid’s education a lot less than sheer incompetence.

But what to do? We’re not sure either. For starters, though, perhaps we should shut down Duke University Press: We think the world has read enough “explorations of hermaphroditic Othering in 16th century Florence.” Such fluff only increases the stupidity of American intellectual life.

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People’s Weakly World

Okay: Here’s a fun game for you. We’ll supply you with a quotation about the Duke lacrosse non-rape case, and you guess when the story from which it was culled was written. Sounds like a blast, eh? Here’s the bit:

North Carolina Central law professor Irving Joyner, who will monitor the proceedings for the state NAACP, said that under [DA Mike] Nifong the prosecution “has tightened up its case” against the three players.

So, that’s the piece of an article; all you have to do is tell us when it was written. Last April? Last May? 1902?

Ah, no: The quote comes from a short article in the January 13-19, 2007 number of People’s Weekly World, a freebee Communist rag sullying a pseudo-revolutionary bookstore near you. Yeah, you read that right: January of 2007.

It’s absolutely amazing, and goes to show how stupid are our pals on the far Left. Naturally, the whole world knows by now that it is far more likely that Mike Nifong will wind up in prison than will the three young indicted chaps from the Duke lacrosse team. Far from “tightening up his case,” Mr. Nifong has seen absolutely everything unravel.

Yet to the ideological stooges at the People’s Weekly World, white college athletes simply must be guilty of raping a black stripper. The world just won’t make sense to them if this case doesn’t prove true.

Hence you find bits from their inept coverage of the case like the following:

Supporters of the indicted students, who want all charges dropped, launched a virulent racist attack against the local African American newspaper [sic], The Wilmington Journal, after the paper ran an editorial calling for due process.

Uh, “supporters of the indicted students”? Don’t you mean “some supporters of the indicted students”?

Heck, no: How else can you infer guilt by association to those squillions of people who realize that no rape occurred? (Everyone but Nancy Grace, we’d wager.) Pathetic, is it not?

Yet perhaps what’s most pathetic is how completely blind are the raving Communists at the People’s Weekly World. They could have used the district attorney’s heinous misconduct as proof that prosecutors trample on the rights of defendants. They could have argued that this DA was caught merely because the indicted Duke students had money to pay for good legal representation—poor folk wouldn’t be so lucky.

Ah, but no: The charming Commies just couldn’t think things through. Idiots of the world, unite!

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A Super Bowl-Sized Pickle

Sports fans around the nation (and even some in such disreputable haunts as Canada) know that the much-ballyhooed Super Bowl will soon be upon us. Ah, yes: Expensive advertisements; wardrobe malfunctions; and a lopsided football game—what’s not to love?

Well, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” have a lot not to love, quite frankly. Nearly all of the crack young staff are diehard New England Patriots fans. Sure, the Pats sport pretty lame USFL-like uniforms. But we think they’re super cool nonetheless. Especially that Troy Brown.

Now, a few of us support the Miami Dolphins—even though they’re an utterly embarrassing football team. Teal may look good on Dan Marino, but no man should admit it.

But here’s the quandary: Neither the Patriots nor the lame-o Miami Dolphins are in this year’s Super Bowl. In regard to the Dolphins, that ain’t exactly a surprise. Yet it’s also painfully true in regard to our beloved Patriots. As a result, dear reader, we don’t know which team to root for.

That may sound like a rather niggling problem, but we still find it quite vexing. The Indianapolis Colts or the Chicago Bears: Which team is less loathsome? We just can’t figure that out.

First, take the Indianapolis Colts. They’re from a pathetic, second-rate city, and even their name sounds stupid: Everyone knows it’s really the Baltimore Colts.

And then there’s the little manner of Peyton Manning. Yes, yes, yes: He’s talented. And he seems like he’s a pretty genial guy. But we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” firmly believe that he must be punished for his incessant television commercials. Stop with the obnoxious TV spots already! And lose that “Aw shucks” drawl while you’re at it. You’re beginning to get on our last nerve.

As much as the ridiculousness of the Indianapolis Colts inspires us to support the Chicago Bears, a moment’s reflection on the Bears will change our mind. Anyone who cares for the Patriots won’t forget their merciless 44-10 whuppin’ at the hands of the Bears in the 1986 Super Bowl. We sure haven’t forgotten about it, and we haven’t forgiven the Bears either.

Yet let us not forget the prime reason for detesting the Bears: In 1986, not only did the boys from Chicago destroy the Patriots, they also produced the most feculent music video in the history of mankind: “The Super Bowl Shuffle.” As in: “We’re not here to start no trouble, we’re just here to do the Super Bowl Shuffle.”

Any team responsible for such cultural detritus deserves to lose every game in football history.

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The State of the State of the Union

Last night, dear reader, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” watched the entire State of the Union address. It wasn’t easy: We were compelled to miss all sorts of boob-tube re-runs and infomercials in order to focus on the President’s speech. Yet, unlike probably every other American in these here United States, we toughed it out. Call us responsible citizens, if you must.

Naturally, however, we drew the line at the Democratic response. Although, like all sentient beings, we find Senator Jim Webb’s angry robot impression warm and charming, we simply couldn’t hack listening to his rebuttal. Perhaps it’s just us, but when a contemporary politician invokes Alexander Hamilton, we immediately begin to zone out.

Nor, it seems, were we the only ones zoning. From what we could gather from the routine camera shots of the bigwigs in attendance at the ole’ State of the Union, plenty of our elected officials are actually deceased.

Maybe it’s too much to ask, but we kind of thought that senators and congressmen should stay awake during the oration. You know: It’s kind of important and all. Especially since congressmen work around 12 hours a year, we figured that they’d at least pay attention on this occasion.

It appeared as if Hillary Clinton agreed with us: She looked as if she had just chugged a pot of coffee, for crying out loud. But her media-created arch-rival, Barack Obama, could have used a shot of No-Doze.

And let’s not even mention Ted Kennedy. Was he doing a crossword puzzle or something? When the camera panned to him, he seemed to be pondering a five-letter word for boredom.

Perhaps it makes us seem petty, but we must admit that our favorite part of this year’s State of the Union was taking in Nancy Pelosi’s reaction to the speech. We simply savor Nancy Pelosi, who makes a tin-eared politician seem like a flawlessly smooth professional.

In fact, we couldn’t help but notice Ms. Pelosi’s complete lack of comfort. Especially as the President touched upon matters of foreign policy, Congresswoman Pelosi looked as uncomfortable as Tom Cruise with a woman. She didn’t know when to clap; she didn’t know when to stand; she didn’t know what to do at all.

Ah, if only the President had expatiated upon the clear Constitutional right to partial birth abortion! That would have compelled Ms. Pelosi to cheer, as would any Catholic grandmother.

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Metaphorical Snakes on a Plane

We, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” hate to grouse about airplane travel. After all, we have offered such complaints numerous times during the lifespan of this humble “weblog.” As such, it’s hardly new material. Furthermore, nitpicking at the airlines’ expense is fairly bland comedic fare.

In fact, pretty much the only thing lamer than airplane gags are toothless observations regarding the differences between men and women. You know, like: Boy, men sure don’t like to shop, even though women do. Wow, how insightful.

Still, we decided to risk sounding like a washed up comedian circa 1986 and discuss a recent frustrating example of the delights of air travel. One of the junior editors here at “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly”—let’s just call him “Chip”—flew a few days ago to the beauteous city of Buffalo (NY). It was not, we daresay, amongst the most charming of travel experiences.

For good reason: Due to extremely windy conditions (undoubtedly caused by global warming—a.k.a. President Bush), the particular airplane in which “Chip” traveled was tossing and turning like the tiny ship on which Gilligan, the Skipper, and their crew sailed one fateful day. As a result, “Chip” felt as if his stomach just might fall out.

Ah, but it gets worse. Much, much worse.

Aboard this particular air vessel was a tired couple and their—we’d guess—two-year-old daughter. Much like everyone else on the aircraft, this little tot didn’t much care for the turbulence.

Unlike everyone else on the aircraft, however, as a result of the tossing and turning, this little tot screamed like a banshee for over an hour. And, dear reader, we mean incessant screaming. “Chip” wasn’t sure if this child was some sort of wunderkind, but she certainly had the lungpower of Pavarotti in his prime.

Now, what was the response of this couple to their kid’s odious racket? Funny you should ask. (Well, not that funny: We think we made you ask anyway.)

Nothing. Nada. Zilch. Zip. Whilst everyone—and we mean everyone—on board suffered, the kiddy’s folks tried the silent treatment. Just ignore her, they thought.

Well, well, well: Perhaps that might have been a reasonable supposition for, say, three minutes. But, after 27, any reasonable person could tell that you ought to move on to new methods of parenting.

To make matters worse, once the plane finally landed, the passengers had to come to grips with the worst realization: They were all currently in Buffalo.

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Come On, Guys: They Have a Point

As we’ve noted before in this space, the “weblogging” faithful get enraged when a figure from the mainstream media notes the intemperateness of the “weblogosphere.” Whenever some fellow at, say, The Wall Street Journal dares to suggest that many “weblogs” are well nigh useless, one witnesses the same predictable reaction: Vehement responses filled with name-calling; angry denunciations; general havoc.

It’s kind of like the “webloggers’” version of the Danish cartoon fiasco. Well, without the storming of embassies and the wanton killing of people, we suppose. But, other than that, they’re very similar.

Now, as you may have noticed by now, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” are nothing if not a passel of “webloggers” ourselves. Thanks to our deep-pocketed financial backers, we pen one “post” every weekday, in fact.

And yet we must admit that we have at least partial sympathy for the mainstream media types who fret about the “weblogosphere.” We know, we know: That makes you mad as heck. But before you contemplate inaugurating some sort of e-jihad against us, allow us to offer an example of what we mean.

A few days ago, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” first stumbled upon what appears to be a fairly popular left-wing “weblog” run by someone who uses the nom de guerre Roger Ailes. Since this particular “weblogger” obviously employs the name of Fox News’ head honcho as his alias, we figured that he’d prove a humorous guy.

Ah, but no: Instead, his pathetic “website” is chock-a-block with nothing but lame name-calling and insipid cheap shots. It isn’t even mildly funny, and is entirely bereft of insightful commentary. In short, it’s mindless pabulum for scorching leftists.

For instance, “Roger Ailes” enjoys employing distinctly grade-school nomenclature for anyone who isn’t on the far Left: Thus we get “Joek Lein,” “Dickless D’Souza,” and other priceless examples of childishness. If a popular “weblogger” like “Roger Ailes” must refer to Jonah Goldberg as a “wide-load bigot,” shouldn’t one wonder about the level of discourse on Al Gore’s World-Wide Web?

We particularly savored this charming “post” from the “website”:

Today on Press The Meat, Pumpkinhead Russert repeated the slander that Joe Lieberman (Me-CT) is a Democrat.

Lieberman repeated the slander that anyone who opposes the escalation is a 9/11-terrorist-loving loser. Oh, and he's supporting the escalation for his children and his grandchilden, apparently because they're too busy to do it themselves.

Charming, is it not? America would surely be the poorer if we lost this responsible rhetoric.

And “Roger Ailes’” sensitive musing received the following response from one of his deeply intellectual readers:

Connecticut has sure foisted some pathetic pieces of human garbage on the rest of us, haven't they? Georgie Bush, Ann Coulter and this odd Hebrew Joe Lieberman. The Nutmeg state. Nutcase, more like. They are giving Texas a run for their money. Pechorin | 01.15.07 - 1:01 pm |

Joe Liebermann, the “odd Hebrew”: Very, very nice. What was that about Jonah Goldberg being a bigot again?

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Craig Crawford

Usually, dear reader, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” dilate on serious issues of the day: The idiocy of Jimmy Carter; the horrid political proselytizing in which some academics engage in the classroom; posterior penmanship. As a result, we figured that—just this once—we could discuss a rather nugatory subject.

Accordingly, in today’s humble “post,” we’re not taking aim at some sort of heavy hitter or other. Nor are we waxing upset about the mad mullahs of Iran. No, sir: On the contrary, we’re going to hurl insults at a fellow who, while insignificant, has irked us for a long, long time. In case for some reason you didn’t read the title of today’s rumination, we’ll inform you of the object of our obloquy: Craig Crawford.

We know what you’re going to say: Who’s Craig Crawford? Wasn’t he in my high school gym class? Well, perhaps, though probably not. Most likely you’re thinking about another guy with the same name.

Maybe this little description of Mr. Crawford will jog your memory. Simply put, Craig Crawford is amongst the most irritating of an outrageously irritating bunch: Television pundits. We know what you’re going to say: Anyone who’s more odious than, say, Susan Estrich must be mighty upsetting.

And mighty upsetting the preening Craig Crawford undoubtedly is. First, this doofus routinely appears on Keith Olbermann’s low-rated propaganda blitz, serving as the willing foil for Olbermann’s pathetically leading questions. In essence, he’s a television yes-man.

Whether it’s to rip on the President or to rip on the President, you can be darn sure that Craig Crawford of the studiously un-read Congressional Quarterly will be sullying the airwaves at a station near you.

Naturally, on its own right, this doesn’t make Mr. Crawford particularly tedious. The world, of course, is full of self-impressed Bush-hating pundits.

Still, something about Mr. Crawford particularly irks. Perhaps it’s his lazy Kentucky-cum-Florida drawl, which would even piss off Colonel Sanders. Maybe it’s his pretensions to humorousness, which beautifully demonstrate his reality-challenged narcissism. Or perhaps it’s his lame “weblog,” which appears to exist merely to inform his fan(s) of his next great “Scarborough Country” appearance. Yeah, we wouldn’t miss that for the world.

For whatever reason, Craig Crawford is enragingly tiresome. He’s the kind of guy that makes one think twice about criticizing Hugo Chavez for shutting down television stations. Free media may be wondrous, but they can’t all be good—any outlet for Craig Crawford must be at least partially evil.

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Bush Derangement Syndrome: Case 978,324

Many of our Democratic-leaning friends, dear reader, feel as if we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” make too much of so-called Bush Derangement Syndrome (BDS). Sure, they admit, lots of liberal folks detest President Bush. But that, they add, doesn’t make them the sorts of unhinged lunatics that conservatives assert.

Frankly, dear reader, we haven’t a bone to pick with this contention. There are myriad reasons why people on the left side of the political spectrum—and even many on the right side—would prove critical of President George W. Bush. And we imagine that plenty of such folks have cogent, compelling reasons to contemn our current Commander-in-Chief.

Still, we would be remiss if we failed to mention how common Bush Derangement Syndrome actually is. Although plenty of Democrats offer a reasonable resistance to the current administration, there are lots and lots of unhinged lefty craziness our there.

Don’t believe us? Well, why don’t we present you with a little example?

Perhaps, dear reader, you have heard of something called the Huffington Post. It’s essentially a World-Wide Web-based exercise in self-flattery: Its proprietor, Arianna Huffington, has used this “website” as an opportunity to pretend that she’s deeply important. And she continues to pretend this even though we have a hunch that very few Americans can actually understand a word of what comes out of her mouth.

We mention the ole’ Huff Po because we think that an item on it (only one?) offers a textbook example of Bush Derangement Syndrome. Penned by somebody called Ken Levine, its title says it all: “Lyndon LaRouche for President.” Mr. Levine, a television writer and baseball broadcaster of whom we have never heard, figured it would be fun to produce a semi-serious pitch for Lyndon LaRouche’s presidential aspirations.

You know Mr. LaRouche: The left-wing Marxoid extremist turned right-wing anti-Semitic extremist who’s well known for his conspiracy theories and his attempt to run for president from prison. Sounds like a really great choice, eh?

Well, according to Mr. Levine, he’s a better choice than the current occupant of the White House. After offering a lame introduction to Mr. LaRouche, Levine says:

I don't think she [Hillary Clinton] can win. And, I seriously worry, if that's the case why aren't we backing Lyndon LaRouche? And again, I say that truly believing in my heart that Hilary Clinton would make a fine president.

Hell, Lyndon LaRouche would be better than what we have now.

Voila: Bush Derangement Syndrome at its finest! Why, this is a very locus classicus of BDS.

Wouldn’t you suppose that a fellow with the last name Levine would be a bit more careful about positively comparing an odious anti-Semite like LaRouche to virtually anyone? Ah, you would think so—if he didn’t have a scorching case of BDS.

Sure, Mr. Levine offers his tip of the cap to Lyndon LaRouche with his tongue placed firmly in his cheek. But the very moral obtuseness of his nod to a conspiracy-mongering extremist doesn’t even trouble him, thanks to the effects of BDS.

Gee: If this disease can so ferociously warp the minds of baseball commentators, just think of what it could do to someone with an average IQ.

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Excluding Exclusion

Oh, you just can’t make this stuff up, dear reader. A correspondent from our Raleigh (NC) office—let’s just call him “Chip”—recently informed us about an upcoming discussion in a mom and pop bookstore called Quail Ridge Books. Aimed squarely at the “progressive community,” this little event couldn’t be more unintentionally hilarious.

The session is called “Ideological Exclusion: From the McCarthy Era to Today” and will be moderated by a fellow with an unpronounceable name from—where else?—the American Civil Liberties Union. The announcement for the discussion deliciously informs us:

Continuing our popular series of Town Meetings, the topic is “Ideological Exclusion: From the McCarthy Era to Today.” Focusing on authors Tariq Ramadan (a contemporary author currently a plaintiff in an ACLU case), Gabriel Garcia Marquez (who was unable to obtain a visa 1962-1986; he had to apply for special [sic] waiver each time he wanted to visit), Nazim Hikmet (Turkish poet, denied visa early 1950s –early 1960s).

Okay, so the session on “Ideological Exclusion” focuses on Tariq Ramadan, an anti-American Islamist who donated money to two charities fundraising for Hamas, Gabriel Garcia Marquez, a writer known for his passionate advocacy of Fidel Castro, and Nazim Hikmet, a Turkist poet and ardent Communist. Huh: We don’t mean to be crass, but that seems a bit ideologically exclusive. Why no focus on far-right lunatics, only on leftist ones? In short, why the exclusions?

Essentially, then, this little powwow is intended as a get-together for an ideologically exclusive group to discuss an ideologically exclusive view of ideological exclusion. We have a hard time believing that any of the interlocutors will mention, say, Fidel Castro’s charming record regarding his ideological opposition. That, we’d wager, is fine and dandy to our “progressive” pals. It’s America, not Cuba, that’s the police state.

We also suppose it’s too much to ask for anyone to bring up Mr. Ramadan’s dubious connections to the Muslim Brotherhood and fundraising for terrorist organizations. In the “progressives’” view, these trifles have absolutely nothing to do with the neo-McCarthyite United States blocking Mr. Ramadan’s American employment. After all, who could possibly have any reservations about the activities and stated goals of Hamas?

But we suppose this is all beside the point. An ideologically exclusive discussion of ideological exclusion. You just don’t get any more ridiculous than that.

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On the Same Page as MLK

As every American must know, our nation has just celebrated Martin Luther King Day, the time in January when we honor a great Civil Rights leader. All around this country of ours, men, women, children, and a couple of hermaphrodites honor Dr. King’s legacy by taking a day off of work and tuning in to various examples of cultural detritus on the Comedy Central television network. Wouldn’t Dr. King be proud?

We, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” mention this in part to inform you as to why we did not offer a “post” yesterday. But this is not our only reason. Rather, a typically lame entry on Dr. King at the Huffington Post compelled us to discuss him.

Rep. John Lewis (D-Georgia) presented an admirably short “post” paying homage to Dr. King on the old Huff Po. It begins entirely inoffensively:

Today we celebrate and commemorate the life of a man of peace, a man of love, a man of nonviolence who must be considered one of the founding fathers of the new America. Because of his dedication to the cause of justice and the imperative of human dignity, he wrestled with the soul of a nation and challenged it to reach its highest destiny.

A little platitudinous, perhaps, but nice nonetheless. Ah, but it degenerates really very quickly. Check out Rep. Lewis’ grand peroration:

If Dr. King could speak today he would tell us to stop this madness and bring our troops home. He would say that war is an obsolete, ineffective tool of our foreign policy. He would say that we must struggle against injustice, we must stand up for what we believe, but if peace is our goal, then peaceful ends can only be secured by peaceful means. He would say as a nation and as a people we can do better; we must do better. We must find a way to live together as brothers and sisters or we will perish as fools.

Oh, how lame is this? It’s another example of that most common of MLK rhetorical tropes: If Dr. King Were Alive Today, He’d Think Exactly As I Do. Yes, yes, yes: Dr. King would oppose the Iraq War. He’d be upset about NSA wiretapping. He’d be angry at the National Rifle Association. Blah, blah, blah.

Can’t we all just say that we don’t know what Dr. King would think about the vicissitudes of modern politics? To be sure, he was admirably opposed to violent means to carry forward the noble cause of Civil Rights. But does this imply that Dr. King would oppose all state military actions under all circumstances? Tell us, Rep. Lewis: Would Dr. King oppose the use of force to stop the genocide in Darfur?

Why don’t you just admit you have no idea what Martin Luther King Jr. would say about ambiguous political questions. And stop using a great Civil Rights leader as a bludgeon for your ideology.

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Bend It Like Beckham? Get Bent

Europhiles all across America are surely in a state of euphoria. No, no: The EU has not embraced Iran as a new member—yet. Rather, someone (something?) called David Beckham (sp?) is coming to these here United States of America. Color us bored.

Apparently, Mr. Beckham is something of a football star in the old country—and by “football star,” we don’t mean of the exciting variety. No, you won’t see this Beckham fellow throw any touchdowns or garner any sacks. In fact, you won’t even see him make one field goal.

Rather, Mr. Beckham hails from the world of Old World Football—that is to say, the enragingly dull, low-scoring exercise in visual torture better known in these parts as soccer. As the newspapers are reporting, Mr. Beckham has agreed to play for something called the LA Galaxy, which, up till now, we thought was a hair-care product. Or maybe a female basketball squad.

If the press reports are to be believed, this Beckham character will be one rich dude: He’ll make enough money to buy Pele’s bones. Much to the chagrin of soccer fans in Europe, Mr. Beckham is leaving his old club, Real Madrid (which tends to perform far better than Fake Madrid).

Now—not to put too fine a point on it—we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” don’t give a rat’s behind that David Beckham will play soccer in the States. It means less than nothing to us. We wouldn’t watch a team full of naked ladies play soccer; miraculously, that would somehow still be boring.

In fact, we care about as much about David Beckham as we do about his wife, who was a star in the talentless pop group the Spice Girls. The Spice Girls? We can’t even remember a song they sing. But we’re sure they’re all awful.

Nor do we believe that our ho-hum response to Mr. Beckham’s US big bucks is entirely our own. Right about now, millions of Americans are thinking of the things they will do instead of tuning in to the LA Galaxy’s next game (against the Toledo Storm, no doubt).

Normally, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” don’t like to make predictions. But we think this one’s a no-brainer. Beckham’s move to LA will be the biggest non-event in sports history since Michael Jordan decided to play baseball (or was it racketball?). Someone ought to tell the owner of the LA Galaxy that they have a bridge to sell him.

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Humor, Cynicism, Politics: John Stewart and Stephen Colbert

A longtime confidante of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly”—let’s just call him “Chip”—considers himself a Green Party enthusiast, and, accordingly, holds numerous far-left views on a variety of topics. Whether it be life in prison (against it in all circumstances), foreign policy (inveterate peacenik), or capitalism (wholeheartedly opposed), our pal’s opinions tend toward the extreme.

One might think that such a self-touted radical would make sure to keep well abreast of the contemporary political scene. After all, he isn’t some garden-variety moderate: His politics simply scream “I know better than you do.” Or, perhaps, “I know better than you do, and I have a tote-bag to prove it.”

Which is why, dear reader, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” were flabbergasted to learn that our buddy’s entire understanding of the world of politics comes from the Comedy Central program “The Colbert Report.” No newspapers, no news magazines, no books, no NPR—just a stilted comedy show with a few bits of John Stewart’s “Daily Show” thrown in for good measure.

Now, dear reader, we know that other writers have excoriated Messrs. Stewart and Colbert in the past. Most perceptively, New Criterion media critic James Bowman took issue with Mr. Stewart’s entire vision of Washington: The comedian assumes that running the United States if very easy and is merely screwed up by the moronic Democrats and Republicans in the nation’s capital.

Of course, nothing could be further from the truth: Love them or hate them, American politicians have a very tough job—one markedly more difficult than hurling barbs for a satirical television show, even if daily. Though many right-wing critics dislike Mr. Stewart for his obvious lefty slant, his most egregious bias is against politicians in general.

Ah, if only the world were run by half-pint comedians! That’d fix everything!

Before we continue, dear reader, we must inform you that we find Messrs. Colbert and Stewart perfectly funny fellows—often quite humorous indeed. Still, the willingness to treat these yuksters as political prophets is frightening. God forbid if the American Green Party uses these entertainers for all their news.

Yet Mr. Stewart, at least, seems to encourage his status as a deep thinker. In fact, he likes to have things both ways. During his infamous—and ill-mannered—trashing of CNN’s “Crossfire,” Mr. Stewart pretended that he’s just a humble comedian; as such, host Tucker Carlson was incorrect to take issue with the hackneyed political coverage “The Daily Show” offers.

But, of course, Mr. Stewart was at least partly lying. To be sure, he’s primarily a jokesmith. But, as everyone knows, Mr. Stewart took an essentially non-partisan program under Craig Kilborn and turned it into a humorous infomercial for the Democratic Party. This is not a man bereft of any political ambition. He loves his post as the only likeable chap in the Move-On set.

The same can be said for Mr. Colbert. Once a delightful correspondent on “The Daily Show,” he has transformed into a stale Bill O’Reilly parody that plays well only to professional Bill O’Reilly haters (who, we imagine, are legion). Thus does “The Colbert Report” offer only a one-note take on politics. We get it, we get it: You’re not really conservative, Mr. Colbert, are you? Ah, very, very clever.

Again, we don’t exactly blame Messrs. Stewart and Colbert for their audiences’ championing them as political heavyweights. But we think their repute is not a good sign for the future of this country’s political acumen.

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Finally, We’re Somebody

As befits a preternaturally popular destination on Al Gore’s World-Wide Web, “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly” routinely receives all sorts of e-mail messages from rabid fans. On any given day (or, as John Madden would say, any given Sunday), this humble “weblog” rakes in piles and piles of missives.

You know, the sorts of letters that offer messages such as: “You guys suck”; “I’ve met stool samples that were funnier”; and “You fellahs are about as hilarious as a raccoon abortion.” Ah, nothing warms the cockles of the heart quite like charming notes chock-a-block with kudos such as these.

A few short days ago, however, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” were on the receiving end of a particularly uplifting e-epistle. Penned by a guy with the deeply ethnic name Matthew Johnson, this letter was directed directly at us directors amongst the crack young staff.

Why was this little note so wondrous? Well, we think a gander at a truncated version will allow you to make that call for yourself:

Prospective Member,

I am delighted to announce your nomination by the Governing Board of Editors of the Madison Who’s Who of Executives and Professionals to be an honored biographical candidate in the 2006-2007 edition. The Institute’s International Board of research decided on your nomination due to research on individual accomplishments and contributions to society. Based on many years of excellent reference and research compilation, the institute remains an authoritative figure in the field of noting significant accomplishments.

We have reviewed the endeavors of men and women around the world because of our research division reaching out to business libraries, educational institutions, and research centers worldwide. Much deliberation was held to choose those whose achievements and dedication toward exemplary goals were the best we have seen….

Sincerely,

Matthew Johnson

You hear that, Peter Gabriel: We have finally made it Big Time! That’s right: An august Governing Board poured over squillions of applications, and, after countless hours of deliberations, finally decided to choose the people whose e-mail address is hatemongersquarterly@yahoo.com. Sounds totally reasonable, doesn’t it?

Right about now, dear reader, you are probably pretty jealous of us crack young staffers. Or at least at the “Prospective Member” to which Mr. Johnson’s mail is directed; we’re not entirely sure which one of us he meant.

Still, we can’t help but be mighty proud of ourselves. Clearly, our mediocre finish in the 2006 Weblog Awards put us over the top, making us stand out for our “individual accomplishments and contributions to society.” Not so shabby, eh?

Right after we complete a victory lap, we’ll send off a carefully wrought letter to the Institute’s International Board, which decided on our nomination. With any luck, we’ll reach even further than the Madison Who’s Who next year. Maybe we could find ourselves in the Denver Who’s Who?

Hey, we all have our dreams.

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Hooray for Florida?

As those attuned to the world of sports know, the University of Florida Gators defeated the Ohio State University Buckeyes in the National Championship game in NCAA Division 1 football (a.k.a. the Tostitos and Viagra Bread and Circus Bowl). Although we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” would love to congratulate the pituitary cases at the University of Florida whose brawn—and not brains—led to this victory, we’re finding it difficult to do so.

Normally, we’d delight in the charming victory of an underdog over its overrated rival. And particularly in the case of Ohio State, whose sticker-bedecked helmets bother us no end. But, for some reason or other, we simply can’t bring it upon ourselves to jump for joy.

We admit that this is churlish of us. Not one member of the crack young staff attended Ohio State, and thus we have no reason to be spiteful about Florida’s big win. Further, we think that we should be happy for Florida, a state whose reading level is slightly below that of the average woodchuck. There aren’t likely to be many Nobel Prize winners who grew up in Florida, so why begrudge them their football victory?

Frankly, dear reader, we don’t have a good reason. As we’ve mentioned in the past, during collegiate sporting matches we routinely root for the university that’s easier to get into. If you ask us, you’re better off supporting Evergreen State than Stanford—at least the former wouldn’t laugh at your transcript.

But a Florida vs. Ohio State match-up doesn’t really inspire much underdog fury in us. Which one has a more accommodating admissions policy? Which one has the superior sociology department? Forgive us for professing our collective ignorance, but we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” haven’t the vaguest idea.

Add to this the fact that the University of Florida men’s basketball team is the reigning champion of the NCAA—even though everyone on God’s green earth was hoping that George Mason would beat the tar out of them. We don’t think that such collegiate athletic success is particularly endearing.

And have you seen Florida’s basketball coach? The fellow—Billy Donovan?—looks like he almost showed up late for the game because he was busy “whacking” somebody. His haircut makes Pat Riley look like a class act.

So, enjoy the roses, University of Florida students. You came, you saw, and you conquered. But don’t get too high and mighty. Remember: You still have some homework to do. That remedial pre-algebra isn’t going to finish itself.

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Take That, Advertisers

If you ask us, dear reader, you can only see a cockney gecko shill for a car insurance company so many times before you begin to lose it. We’re not trying to be glib: That stupid Limey lizard is about to drive us up a wall.

According to the new and improved (read: Flimsier and more economical) Wall Street Journal, the irksome dolts at Geico spent more on advertising last year than Coke-a-Cola. And, boy, wasn’t that just great? You really enjoyed those umpteen car insurance ads, didn’t you?

In fact, the veritable deluge of Geico commercials has led us, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” to enforce a strict anti-advertising crusade. Simply put, if a particular advertisement troubles us, we steadfastly refuse to purchase the product it’s pushing.

The product in question doesn’t matter: Milk, tampons, HIV vaccinations. If we hate the ad, we won’t but it. It’s kind of like our personal Danish cartoon fiasco, minus all the murder and mayhem one associates with the Religion of Peace.

For example, we don’t care if we can save 15 percent or more on car insurance. We don’t even give a darn if it would take us 15 minutes or less to discover our savings. Geico is, for lack of a better word, evil, and we won’t call them if our lives depended on it.

But let us not offer the erroneous impression that Geico is the only offender in the irritating advertising game. We can think of myriad other malefactors.

Take, for instance, those incessant “Get a Mac” commercials, with which Apple has decided to smother us. You know the ads were talking about: A fat guy who personifies an IBM idly competes with a cool cat who personifies a Macintosh for potential television customers.

Now, let’s set aside the fact that the purportedly hip fellow who plays the Mac was a nerdy high school kid in the movie Dodgeball. Although that doesn’t exactly scream “cool” in our books, perhaps it’s worth a few “awesome points” in a few people’s “awesome meter.”

What really troubles us, dear reader, is the countenance of the guy who stands for the IBM. He’s portly, bespectacled, poorly—albeit somewhat formally—dressed. In short, he’s quite a nerd. Come to think of it, he greatly resembles a cousin of ours, though he has far more hair on his head.

Why are the fat cats at Apple casting aspersions in this poor sod’s direction in order to sell a couple of computers? We, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” have a sneaking suspicion that the folks who engineered the new I-Books look a heck of a lot more like the IBM guy than the Mac kid.

Call it a hunch, but we’re assuming that computer designers aren’t exactly the reincarnations of James Bond. Accordingly, in solidarity with fat, poorly dressed losers everywhere—including those who work for Apple—we shall buy IBMs from now on. How do you like ‘dem Apples?

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Hip-Hop Hooray

Reading a left-leaning newspaper can be an irksome experience for our conservative friends. Whilst scanning the pages of, say, The New York Times, one often comes across vestiges of liberal bias. And then, of course, there’s the op-ed page, which routinely offers enragingly obtuse lefty views of the “I Want Every Troop Out of Every Country in the World Because Occupation Is the Source of All the World’s Problems” variety.

Then there are the feculent letters to the editor. So many folks, from Monterey to Manchester, seem to write to their local papers merely to make some smug reference to their own mental and/or moral superiority. You know the kind of thing we’re talking about, dear reader: If David Brooks really wants to save the world, why doesn’t he stop supporting the fascist Bush administration? Blah, blah, blah. They aren’t arguments so much as examples of pseudo-intellectual hectoring.

Every once in a great while, however, someone writes into a lefty rag—say, The Los Angeles Times—and takes aim at the typical liberal palaver that besmirches it. For our right-wing friends, it’s a delicious experience: Someone finally bursts through the newspaper’s usual lefty diatribes and offers a dissenting opinion.

We mention this, dear reader, because a dedicated reader of this humble “weblog” recently wrote to us about a dynamite missive to the editors at The Boston Globe. To those unaware of it, allow us to tell you that the Globe is essentially the Gray Lady’s mildly retarded younger cousin. On all sorts of matters, it tilts leftward.

As a result, it was simply marvelous that the Globe staff decided to publish the following letter by Robert Coyne, which pertained to a short article detailing Harvard University’s recent efforts to offer a tenured faculty position to one Marcyliena Morgan:

I would like to applaud Harvard’s foresight in seeking to add a hip-hop scholar for a tenured position (“Harvard tries to woo old friend,” City & Region, Dec. 17). Is it any wonder Larry Summers lost his job as university president after failing to take this step two years ago? Free from the restraints placed on Harvard by Summers, I would like to encourage the pedagogues in Cambridge to consider expanding their moves in this direction. As a preeminent disco scholar, I would like to offer my services as a tenured professor. This genre should be studied by future generations of our best and brightest, for what could be more critical than learning the importance of “Ah, ha, ha, ha, stayin’ alive, stayin’ alive.”

Robert Coyne
Lexington

It’s delightful, is it not? Alas, given the vicissitudes of modern academia, we fear that some of Harvard’s faculty may not understand the joke. When a good portion of your professors is currently working on topics like “sex and gender in 1980s sit-coms,” a Barry Gibb Distinguished Professor of Disco may not seem like such a bad idea.

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Who Gives a Feud?

Perhaps it’s just us, dear reader, but we simply can’t enjoy watching a rivalry being played out when we don’t care a jot about it. The Minnesota Vikings vs. the Green Bay Packers—who even remotely cares? If you ask us, the poor fools who are glued to the boob tube over this trenchant battle are worthy of our compassion…because they all live in the Midwest. It’s sad, but it’s true.

Our reticence regarding sports feuds seldom reaches to the collegiate level. Like all reasonable people, of course, when two schools play one another, we always root for the one that’s easier to get into. Why cheer for Stanford when those bastards would laugh at your pathetic transcript? We’ll blithely support Illinois State instead: From what we can tell, the only requirement to get into that place is a pen.

But we must say that our lack of concern for various rivalries extends beyond the realm of sports. Take, for example, the recent Donald Trump vs. Rosie O’Donnell brouhaha. Are we the only ones who want both of these morons to lose?

We mean, come on: In one corner you have an odious, self-obsessed chucklehead and in the other you have an odious, self-obsessed chucklehead. Maybe Trump is a bit more noxious, because he unleashed that face-lifted, blow-dried nitwit Donny Deutsch on the rest of the world. Anyway, thank God Rosie is fat or you’d never be able to tell her and Trump apart. We hope they both fall down a manhole.

As if the recent verbal vitriol of Rosie and The Donald weren’t bad enough, now we hear word from CNN (!) about a purportedly non-existent fight betwixt Ryan Seacrest and Carson Daly. Apparently, these two preternaturally untalented fellows have competing New Year’s Eve television broadcasts. Both stuffed shirts, it seems, hope to claim the Dick Clark no-talent mantle.

Even so, Messrs. Seacrest and Daly both deny that there’s a feud brewing. Perhaps they figure that, with their scintillating personalities and androgynous good-looks, they ought to thank their lucky stars that they’re in show business to begin with. As far as we’re concerned, the world would be a more just place if the two of them were waiters at Applebees.

For whom do we root in the Seacrest vs. Daly non-fight? Who seems mildly gayer? Who’s slightly less irritating?

Yeah: We don’t know either.

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Play Nice

As the whole world recognizes by now, Saddam Hussein, the brutal Iraqi tyrant, has been hanged. Whatever the future of Iraq, no longer will it be plagued by this murderous, bloodthirsty man.

Under the circumstances, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” made a quick stroll around Al Gore’s World-Wide Web, to determine what various “webloggers” and journalists had to say about the former dictator’s well earned demise. Naturally, we stopped first at The Nation, a magazine that, under the banner of “progressivism,” has shilled for its fair share of odious totalitarians.

We’re delighted to inform you, dear reader, that we were not disappointed by The Nation’s discussion of Saddam’s death. Far from it. In fact, a hack named John Nichols offers a quintessential take on this disgusting man’s downfall.

You needn’t take our word for it. Take a gander at this delightfully representative passage:

Hussein was a bad player -- a totalitarian dictator who, with tacit approval from the U.S. and other western nation [sic] during the 1980s, killed his own people and waged a mad war with Iran. He needed to be held to account. But even bad players deserve fair trials, honest judgments and justly-applied punishments. The former dictator got none of these.

Gee: The half-assed apologetics from these “progressive” folks are really awful, aren’t they? Although he must have cringed when he typed it, Mr. Nichols dared to call Saddam “a bad player.” Wow: What honesty.

“A bad player”: Does this moral imbecile believe that Saddam Hussein was a second-string outfielder for the Milwaukee Brewers? A 350-pound wannabe Casanova with one leg and a kickstand may be a “bad player,” but what kind of cretin would affix that label to a Stalinoid nightmare like Saddam Hussein? Answer: John Nichols.

In addition, dear reader, notice how Mr. Nichols can’t cast even mild aspersions in the direction of Saddam without wholeheartedly ripping on the USA: “…with tacit approval from the U.S. and other western nation [sic] during the 1980s….” Well, gee: He just couldn’t help himself; he simply had to mention that. Yes, yes, yes: America is to blame for everything, isn’t it?

Exactly which Iraqi powerhouse from the 1980s does Mr. Nichols think we should have supported? And wasn’t our policy toward Iraq dictated by our reasonable fears of Iran? Further, isn’t President Bush’s desire to establish a democracy in Iraq a move away from the policy of supporting various dubious strongmen? And, gosh, isn’t Mr. Nichols against this, too?

In short, this myopic palaver isn’t even about Saddam Hussein. It concerns The Nation’s typical hatred of the democratic West. Exactly why this is called “progressive” is anyone’s guess.

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Our Official “Hatemonger’s Quarterly” 2007 Predictions

Round about this time of year, dear reader, numerous pundits and intellectuals present a list of predictions for the New Year. On the utterly fair and balanced Fox News, in the pages of Newsweek, and countless other deeply respectable organs of opinion that intermittently contain “cultural coverage” of rap stars, members of the smart set share their prognostications with the world.

Naturally, these same intellectuals have proven completely wrong about everything that happened during the past year, but for some reason that doesn’t hamper their pseudo-clairvoyance one bit. Thus we, the ordinary Joes and Janes who make up the American public, take in all manner of predictions, from the alarming (e.g., gossip columnists informing us that Paris Hilton will remain a slut this year) to the mundane (e.g., Al Gore telling us that, thanks to global warming, the world will end sometime in April).

We, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” don’t want to be left out of this veritable sweepstakes of prognostication. After all, we possess the exact same qualifications for guessing the future as our public intellectuals. Which is to say, none at all.

Although we don’t have incredibly popular platforms with high production values such as C-Span from which to announce our predictions, surely our humble “weblog” can serve to get our words out to a few yokels. As such, without any further ado, dear reader, we are pleased as preening peacocks to present:

The Official “Hatemonger’s Quarterly” 2007 Predictions

7) Vigorous and spirited attempts at a comeback notwithstanding, Adrian Zmed will remain lingering in obscurity, where he belongs.

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