As promised, and mentioned today, I ventured forth into the fever swamps of fascism and have emerged relatively unscathed (the sides of my boat did get grimy with the outstretched hands of CEOs floating in the river. We’ll be OK, but the golden handcuffs will never survive that beating).
The outrage du jour in right blogistan today is the reporting of conservative Senator Larry Craig’s alleged anonymous trysts with men.
You see, it is utterly outrageous that someone’s private life is invaded, mutilated, and did I mention invaded? by ne’er do well liberals with evil intentions. Why, it’s shocking and disturbing that some lowlife would troll through the sexual refuse of a politician and then use that information in a public manner! That’s just inconceivable! This is a perfect example of how debased the lefties are these days. Their minority and lack of control of all three branches of government must be stopped before they kill us all!
To which I reply: The Clenis
In particular, don’t miss Doughy Pantload’s oh-so-concerned take on the issue. DPL, and more specifically his mother, owes their entire careers to the pursuit and reportage of “distinguishing marks” on the Clenis.
Greenwald, as is his wont, has many more words (better written ones at that) on the subject, but he’s not a wingnut so you can take off your biohazard suit before heading over.
I’m preparing to embark on my journey, Dear Reader, to the dark, pestilential swamp of right blogistan, see what the rageholic issue o’ the day is, and then mock them for it.
The question is… what kind of protection am I going to need? They don’t have sex (except twice a year, in marriage only, missionary, of course), so I’m pretty sure I’ll be safe from STDs. Assuming Bolton hasn’t given Pamela anything communicable, of course.
I’m safe from that, but I’m rather worried about getting some sort of yuck from their spittle-flecked invective… or their general Cheetos vectors from the keyboards of the 101st Fighting Keyboardist division of Chickenhawk CentCom. There are at least three deadly communicable fried-snack-food diseases and/or named comas that spring to mind.
Seeing as how I’ll be wading through the prime breeding ground of the Cheetovirus, I’m going to need some heavy duty waders. For those that don’t know, the perfect wingnutty vector breeding ground consists of mama’s basement, fedora, a diaper, a fax machine that only receives messages from the RNC, a large huge collection of porn, and a collection of online dating aliases (and attached hunky photos) that are used to troll for cybersex.
Anyone have a MOPP suit handy?
In order to increase the diversity of viewpoints presented here, I’ve decided to take a review of what the news items are in right blogistan, summarize them for you, and then mock them mercilessly. I’ll probably do this daily, but maybe not today, and really it’s whenever whenever I feel like it and my nausea is sufficiently under control. I’m certainly no Wolcott but you, Dear Reader, will have to settle for quantity over quality.
And since Wolcott’s already covering today’s faux uproar over the costumes available for International Dress Like a Whore day (that would be Halloween to you), I’ll have to think of something else. Although it is interesting that wingnuttia is attacking W*Mart now – not because their All Slut’s Eve Halloween clothing is made by 4 year old factory workers in the Marianas making $0.05 per day, but because the cut of the leg line is too high. Wingnuttia only favors the W*Mart We B Trickin Halloween Burkha line (available now in your choice of black or black!).
I may skip that summary step and go right to the mockery. It’s my blog and I can do it if I want to. So there.