Wingnut: Jeff Goldstein
Team: Macho Men
Managed By: Pajamas Media Affiliate
He Shall Overcome
(Since Jeff Goldstein’s anti-fans have been clumsily psychoanalysed by Ace of Debased — an effort since punctured by Brad, Roy and TBOGG — consider this my reply in kind, and well worth the effort since Goldstein and his commenters have recently started outing anonymous liberals.)
Jeff Goldstein is a real piece of work, a posterchild for the inferiority complex and resultant over-compensation issues delineated in Adlerian psychology. As is so often the case, the inferiorities he feels are both real and, simply, perceived. There’s nothing wrong with being a Mr. Mom or failed academic, yet Goldstein’s behavior indicates he feels differently — he’s so very touchy about it. On the other hand, there is something wrong with being a chickenhawk coward, a paste-eating cretin, and a talentless hack. Hence his overcompensation in the form of obnoxious aggression (often to the point of violent threats), pseudo-intellectual windbaggery, atrociously banal “short-fictions”.
To the casual observer, Goldstein might seem to be a garden-variety internet wingnut, a suburban douchebag whose sad and petty hatreds, frustrations over stagnated ambitions and innate cowardice lead him to adopt a sort of Walter-Mitty-As-Rambo-As-Whackjob-Blogger schtick, whereby all his fantasies of action and genocidal crusade and manly-man aggression are sated through internet jackassery. Of course if Goldstein really wanted some adventure, he could go to the recruiting office, but — hahahahaha — everyone knows that ain’t gonna happen. And yeah, all of this is common enough on the WingNet, although Goldstein has a curiously ambitious drive to be the biggest jerk of them all, and he very nearly succeeds. Added to this drive and his deep, abiding fear that he might be a weenie is his status as “Literature Wingnut” and the unique salad of sex and violence issues which reside in his otherwise empty brainpan; Goldstein’s a hell of a case study.
His sex and violence issues I’ll deal with first; if by the end you’re not also convinced that Goldstein is certifably crazy and that, therefore, he ought to be straitjacketed and shot-up with elephant tranquilizers, then you should be drubbed to death with a giant dildo.
A Little Penis Fixation
Jeff Goldstein has without a doubt the biggest macho complex at least since George Thorogood’s. Which is why the “chickenhawk” epithet is so injurious to him. (Goldstein is so discombobulated by the Chickenhawk label that he, like Jonah Goldberg, has to rely on Christopher Hitchens’s argument against it; both are too stupid or dishonest to acknowledge that Hitchens was revising himself; and of course none of this prevents Goldstein from turning right around and applying a derivative of the term to Rod Dreher.) Like all the rest of the 82nd Chairborne Brigade, his affected stance is broadly swaggering, hypermasculine, chock-full of bravado and chest-thumping — all of which is not only self-serving, but also a distended reaction inspired by how Goldstein sees the Left: as a collection of wimps. The irony of course is that if Goldstein were really so tough and so confident of his pro-war righteousness as all his rhetoric insists, he’d be in Iraq. But then he, like all chickenhawks, regards such moral logic as unreasonable and impossible. Actually, the very idea of 101st Keyboarders putting, so to speak, their money where their mouth is, is liable to make them terrified to the point of incontinence. And though I’m fairly sure that Goldstein’s barcalounger has more than its share of urine stains, the Left’s perception that Goldstein isn’t heroic material inspires in him a great deal more than that. Goldstein the Chickenhawk is reduced to violently asserting that he too is a macho man!Reduced to soiling himself not in fear but in anger! To asserting that he is more manly than any lefty, to be sure, (despite what his adenoidal, wimpy voice sounds like, which he is always quick to say is the fault of technology, not lack of testosterone!) and it is with monomaniacal fixation on his genitals and those of others that he means to demonstrate his ultimate masculinity. Thus Goldstein-Chickenhawk becomes Goldstein-Cockvulture and his garden-variety wingnut resentment becomes a thematic demonstration of his unique insanity.
After calling a fellow wingnut (who allowed that John Murtha might be onto something) a “Chickenlittlehawk” and then being reminded that he is one of the biggest Chickenhawks around, Goldstein replied:
All those using the chickenhawk argument are on the wrong board. Here you go.And hereâ€™s the contributorâ€™s page for Kevin.
I added him to my AIM buddy list: catcomguy.
Iâ€™m going to see if we can set up a meeting. He seems so tough in his pictureâ€”cigarette, beer, hat turned backwards, Malcolm X glasses.
Wonder if heâ€™d like to feel my dick slapping him across his face.
WTF, huh? Well, here he explains his “authorial intent”:
It means what it means, you wannabe-tough baby pussy. Specifically, that if you want to call me a chickenhawk to my face, I’ve added you to my AIM (you haven’t reciprocated) so that I can get your personal info, or give you mine, and we can arrange a meet up.At which point, after I beat you like a bitch, I will hold you down and smack you across the face repeatedly with my cock.
Let’s get started on this.
Pancakes? Bisquick and water.Now about spanking Kevin’s across his face with my cock…
To a Jewish emailer who asks him to quit giving his fellow Jews a bad name, the first thing Goldstein can think of in response is:
howsabout you just glue on a bit of the foreskin you snip off the next transient you blow, then try to blend.
He thinks John Cole’s lefty commenters are:
[a] band of dickless fucktards
Meanwhile, the Liberal Avenger is in Goldstein’s estimation:
a world class cock.
And TBOGG’s commenters are denounced as:
fucking turnip-headed dickslurpers who hang out at this pseudo-intellectual dump fellating each other over their own supposed “reality-based” genius to piss on the reputations of strangers while posting under such clever screen names. How fucking brave.But no worries. Rather than trying to engage, instead we get funny pictures of clowns and regurgitated memes from Poorman & Atrios (Jeff is stupid) and Glenn Greenwald (Jeff is a Bush cultist). But hey, whatever keeps your traffic flowing and the self-congratulatory jism pumping “Tbogg.”
On encountering a genuine anti-semite on a fellow wingnut’s blog (imagine!), which gave him license to reply in whatever fashion, Goldstein’s cock-fixation again showed itself to be dominant:
Wow, what a release of pent-up incoherence, Cedarford. So happy to have a forum for your anti-Jew material that you shot your load too soon, eh? Couldn’t even onjure up a nice Jew bash fantasy before cuming all over the comments section?
Wingnuts in 2004 said a lot of choice things about Dan Rather, but it’s doubtful many of them immediately saw fit to comment about his man-junk. But then Goldstein is unique:
I think I just heard one of Dan Ratherâ€™s testicles climb up into his abdomen.
But even within the context of his monomania, sometimes he frets about things closer to home, as it were. Of a dietary supplement, he asks:
…So. Nothing is going to, you know…shrivel, is it –?
The supplement’s giggles were not recorded.
Not that all his cock-fixation program activities are about threats and insults; some involve fantasies and even compliments. And lame attempts at humor, like his “interview” with Jeff Gannon’s “COCK” (a word that Goldstein, Master of Projection, always renders in all-caps, by which he means to underline the object of the Left’s supposed fixation). And naturally, wingnuts, already taking seriously their claim to general idiocy, hasten to prove their atrocious aesthetic judgement by lauding Goldstein’s efforts.
Even friends make Goldstein think of cock. Of his pal
Patrick Bateman Vodkapundit, Goldstein blurbs:
Steve Green is to blogging what John Holmes was to enormous penises.
On finding Tucker Carlson’s replies to Jon Stewart (who had called Carlson a dick; yet unlike Goldstein, Stewart is not known to exhibit a pattern of cockomania; he meant the term as being synonymous with “jerk”) apparently too feeble, Goldstein, presumably since the very word was mentioned and therefore drawn like moth to flame (cockotropism?), couldn’t resist providing Carlson with ammo:
â€œItâ€™s genetic, the big dick thing. My father was hung like a horse.â€?
â€œAny truth to the rumor you and Lewis Black like to toss each othersâ€™ salads?
So. Very. Funny. The penis, apparently, is the soul of wit — and fantasy! The penises of enemies are too fodder for Goldstein’s ordinarily shrivelled and tiny imagination which becomes, suddenly, vivid:
Atrios awakensâ€”simultaneously aroused and a bit ashamedâ€”to find his stumpy Duncan jr. still semi-tumescent, his sheets puddled and tacky from a longing that, alas, millions of slackjawed Rethuglican voters refuse to let come to passâ€¦
Weâ€™ll be treated to a post about my hypocrisy that misses the point, obfuscates the identity of the speakers, muddles the context, and is replete with trademark Roy â€œsmartsâ€? that are then dutitfully parrotted and cheered by his robotic reaadership who, like the proverbial emperorâ€™s sycophantic minions, will pretend that heâ€™s not marching around in his cyber bedroom with his little prick bobbing about like a poorly-functioning metronome.
Which assessment, I might add, is quite different from the one he had of me back when he was still going by Andrew Northrup and not trying to pick traffic crumbs out of the pudendas of Atrios and Kos like some lowly genital crab.
And (with ample projection):
Riiiight. Like Iâ€™m going to answer that and let you finish getting yourself off.Sorry. Youâ€™re going to have to insert some other guyâ€™s cockswallowing into your masturbatory fantasies.
Tell me, Bart? Do you masturbate to mental images of yourself standing astride the world, being noble?Tell me, Bart, were you whacking off to thoughts of yourself fightinâ€™ the good fight as you typed out that comment?â€”slapping your half-hard joint against your thigh to the mental strains of Country Joe and the Fish? Did you squirt all over that pic of Joe Wilson looking all Bond-like in Vanity Fair right as you wrote â€œlittle bitchâ€??
And not to forget his characterization of a certain feminist’s prom date:
I mean, what guy in his right mind would want to spend the wee hours of the morning having some bitter, long-suffering ideologue read Gertrude Stein to him while his rented-tux tucked erection (already dubious, given the company) is folding up tent and trying to make a run for his own asshole?
In other words: “take that, dyke!” But then for Macho Man Goldstein, since all that’s manly is good (Harvey Mansfield says so!) all that’s feminine must be bad. Goldstein’s first inclination is to impugn the masculinity of his perceived enemies; who better for him to trash than those who to him are nothing but wannabe-men? Thus his (typically unfunny) stance to the effect that outspoken women are intolerable freaks, who are bitter, shrill and seething of penis-envy. Yet even when sneering against feminists, Goldstein’s cockomania takes over, like for instance in this tedious attempt at an anti-feminist gotcha, where he was driven to distraction yet again by cock:
What bothers me most about this storyâ€”aside from all the penises in the room [...]
But then thereâ€™s something about lefty women that brings Goldsteinâ€™s bitterness to boil:
But hey, keep the love coming. Anonymous pricks like you only pretend to stand for things like true gender equalityâ€”until you have the opportunity to take your shots, at which point you just canâ€™t help showing your true colors.
I mean, who can blame you for not be willing to put your name to this stuff? Once the feminists find out what a secret misogynistic poseur you are, theyâ€™ll stop giving you handjobs after the latest Title IX march.
Then, inevitably, the humiliation fantasies:
But that wasnâ€™t really the point of my bringing up â€œMajikthiseâ€™sâ€? post. Which was this: Lindsay â€œmajikthiseâ€? Beyerstein: hot or not?
Me, I kind of like the ironic / blase sneer and the angst pirate affectation.
Or maybe sheâ€™s just sitting on cucumber.
Either way, the fact that sheâ€™s an analytical philosopher is just so damn sexy. And even if she turns out to be a total bitch (which, how likely is that), I could just close my eyes and imagine myself getting a dirty sanchez from Wittgenstein.
Does all of this macho violent cockomania and misogyny seem a little bit “Theban Sacred Band” and a whole lot “John Derbyshire” to you? Was Gary Farber onto something when he wrote this little jest? I wonder…
I’m uncomfortable seeing gay men kiss. Which is odd, because I don’t think I’d have a problem should I happen to stumble upon them going at it like a couple of rutting bull elks.
Who cares?â€”so long as I get to see gay cowboys going at it all tender and dignified and chapless.
5. Tony something or other, who lived with me on 5th Street in Ocean City, MD, in the late 1980s.Remember that time you were all coked up and were putting holes in the bedroom walls with your fists, Tony? Remember being buck naked with an erection while doing so? Remember my trying to stop you, and your wigging out and throwing punches at me? Remember me having to parry not only your wild roundhouse rights, but your angry, springy penis?
Youâ€™re lucky I didnâ€™t kill you in your sleep, man.
And I have no idea what to make of this, but Christ is it sick.
But in other ways, too, Goldstein’s mask slips:
What, you think moronic, limp-wristed, defeatist, wanna-be intellectual ironist progressives are in short supply or something? The coffee shops are CRAWLING with them.
Busted on that “limp-wristed” remark, Goldstein dissembled:
Limpwristed means effete. Why you make the jump to guys playing Brokeback Mountain is your own hangup, â€œprick.â€?
Huh. Maybe so? Ahh, sadly, no! Here is one of Goldstein’s dread “funny” pieces in which he applies human characteristics to an armadillo. Its author “makes the jump”, too:
…turns out heâ€™d been surprised the week before in the restroom of the Olney Dairy Queen by an employee while he was buried hip deep inside an effete Black-tailed Jackrabbit (Lepus californicus)â€”and down in Texas, that kind of Brokeback Mountain thing is frowned upon, especially where thereâ€™s species mixing going on.Ultimately, I guess he figured it was better to get drunk and throw himself under a pickup truck than, yâ€™know…get snatched up by the local roughnecks and dragged behind one, chained to the bumper.
Poor little mixed up queer.
Now a note for those susceptible to Goldstein’s “authorial intent” bullshit. The playfulness and irony in this story, such that it is, lies in its anthropomorphism, and why it works to the extent that it does is precisely because it is also narrated in a “straight” (no pun) voice. Not to get ahead of myself here, but these little nuggets of talentless puerility serve the function of allowing Goldstein to have his bigotry and eat it too (note also the reference to being chained behind a truck and dragged to death in Texas — Goldstein is refering in a hahafunnyfunny way to the awful hate-murder of James Byrd).
Anyway, it is plain what he means by “limp-wristed” and “effete”; and we’ve all read of this sort of thing before, in a blessedly funnier context: “Why Do All These Homosexuals Keep Sucking My Cock?”
Enough was enough, and aware of some of this I hurriedly posted to Goldstein in my first and last comment to his blog:
“limp-wristedâ€?? â€œeffete fucktardâ€? this after you threatened (three times, so delighted you were with your own puerility) to smack kevin with your cock.your â€œim so much more butch than you, but can i see your penis first just to make sure?â€? schtick has just gotta stop.
look, goldstein, itâ€™s real simple. you need to pull out of john derbyshire, and the both of you kick open the closet door already.
itâ€™s all right. it really is. the only thing that makes it ugly is the self-loathing.
And as if compelled to prove my point, he replied immediately:
Whatâ€™s the matterâ€”canâ€™t use the shift key with you [sic] cock in your fist?Fuck off. If I was interested in your opinion Iâ€™d visit your site. And if Kevin doesnâ€™t want his ears boxed by my dick, he shouldnâ€™t come to my site and call me a coward.
But I was wrong about his affliction. Mere sexual self-loathing can’t account for all the pathological things he’s written. He’s nasty and unstable to his core. Witness this bit of incoherent, raging insanity:
Todayâ€™s subject: tristero, who (letâ€™s face it) has the intellect of a gibbon, though he clearly fancies himself a brilliant debunker of lockstep winguttery. In fact, his post (as seen on Digbysblog) â€”Loven stole HIS idea about the strawmans, weâ€™re told / and Atrios was exactly right that Iâ€™m an idiot who doesnâ€™t realize my own idiocy (a pronouncement, incidentally, that can only be made by one who assumes he is far more intelligent than the object of his scorn, which position essentially deconstructs the study in the Atrios post tristero fellates, or else proves it to his detriment, Iâ€™m not sure which)â€”is par for the course with these bandwidth sucking cocklords. You allow them to stay and say their piece, and they interpret that as a â€œrightâ€? that you now owe them, and they then take that as an invitation to start helping themselves to things in the fridge, or slipping a finger up your dogâ€™s asshole, etc.Well, sorry, but that ainâ€™t my thang. These fucktards want to take shots at me on their own sites, they can have at it. But from now on, they can keep it there, or they can bitch about me on sites I donâ€™t give a shit about anyway.
What they canâ€™t do is take pot shots at me on other sites, then slather some peanut butter on their joints and show up here hoping to help themselves to a quick hummer from my dog.
Disgusting, I thought. Who would even imagine something like that?A few minutes later, I sat down to read the Los Angeles Times article on the Army dog handler who was just found guilty of using his unmuzzled dog to terrorize prisoners, and came across this:
:”Smith also was found guilty of an indecent act for using his dog to lick peanut butter off a male soldier’s genitals and a female soldier’s breasts while another soldier videotaped the act.”
Once again, the warriors live out the armchair warriors fantasies.
And that is exactly what Goldstein’s issues stem from: a seething, sociopathic hatred, the same that fueled Abu Ghraib abuses. Thus, his grotesque humiliation fantasies in which he threatens to sexually degrade people who’ve made fun of him, who’ve reminded him that he’s a chickenhawk, a hack, a paste-eating moron.
“Civility”, Hypocrisy & The Ragin’ Contagion
Despite all the evidence above, Goldstein often puts up the civility front. He affects the stance that he – so brave, so manly, so decent – and his side are the victims of the incivility of the Left. No, really. And some people are stupid enough to buy it. Pasty says:
Atrios doesn’t have “readers” so much as he does run a clubhouse for lefty cranks who fancy themselves intellectual attack dogs.
Which goes without saying, because:
Congrats on the Atrios hit!Man, I live for approval from one of the vilest leftists on the net!
Posted by: Jeff G at December 15, 2005 04:04 PM
How cruel they are to poor persecuted Pasty! And to others, too! Why, look what The Left did to Michelle Malkin (context here and here)! Why, it’s enough for Pasty to sign an Online Integrity pledge! (A pledge created by a hypocrite who is, not coincidentally, one of hypocrite Goldstein’s most hypocritical defenders.) Which, in turn, presumably enables him to clutch his pearls and address someone who’d called him a “failed academic” thusly:
These rhetorical tactics are tawdry and, frankly, beneath contempt. Northrup should stick to kitten jokes. Because when he opens his mouth in an attempt to be serious, he is inveterately incapable of disguising the bile that pours out.
Nevermind that five paragraphs above that remark, Goldstein called the same person a “genital crab”!
Naturally, many wingnuts find Goldstein’s cuckoo nest quite homey. As Pasty is crazy and violent, so too are his fellow travellers. You’ll not find a nastier bunch of commenter-regulars this side of LGF or Anti-Idiotarian Rotweiller — an association not lost on even Goldstein’s friends (though the qualitative judgement is all mine). PW commenters are a bunch of paranoid, resentful, demented and servile fascists.
When Dennis the Peasant merely observed that Pajamas Media was being unprofessional and self-destructive in allowing Goldstein, among others, “to pick as many fights with as many bloggers, commenters, and/or readers as is humanly possible,” one of Pasty’s goons was inspired to compare Dennis to serial-rapist Peter Braunstein. But then what do you expect them to do when Goldstein himself responds to criticism of its mediocrity by telling the critic that he molested his sister? (Any criticism, from Left or Right, of Pajamas Media is enough to send Goldstein off his rocker: see here andhere — which are tame compared to Goldstein’s responses I’ll quote in part two.)
Protein Wisdom commenters recommend that liberals be interned like the Nisei. Naturally, PW wingnuts find the WWII theme irresistible: here’s one who couldn’t resist comparing Peter Jennings, when the newscaster’s death was announced, to Lord Haw Haw and Tokyo Rose.
Here Goldstein publishes a snarky email — nothing vulgar, just a sneer. His commenters then put the emailer through the wringer, looking up her personal info and calling her stuff like “cunt”. But why wouldn’t they when Goldstein himself says of someone like Cindy Sheehan that “[she should be] cuff[ed].. to a space heater…”?
Here‘s what they think of Eugene McCarthy. Here’s what Goldstein says of and to other bloggers:
[not to worry, though: by Macho Man Goldstein's bullshit calculus, the Founding Fathers were pussies, too.]
So naturally his commenters will follow suit, even against fellow wingnuts:
John Cole is a whore. Heâ€™s just sucking up to all the limousine liberals who visit his site to vent their anti-Bush rage and then click through to buy overprice Kona coffee from his scummy liberal BlogAd advertisers. George Bush knows whatâ€™s best, whether the wibwuls and their RINO bend-over buddies like John â€œJuanâ€? Cole know it or not. Questioning the presidetâ€™s policy can only help the terrorists. Donâ€™t ask questions and nobody gets hurt.
Eventually, even this sort of thing isn’t enough for Goldstein and his goons. They escalate the rhetoric. First, Goldstein:
I never served in the armed forces. But I did once beat the piss out of a â€œgangâ€? of 4 anti-war protesters with nothing more than a paper mache puppet head and one of their belt made of daisies.Kind of a Crouching Tiger, Frightened Anonymous Pussy Clan Who Really Didnâ€™t Think Iâ€™d Go Through With That First Roundhouse Kick To The Windpipe moment. I wish I had filmed it in slow motion, ala Billy Jack.
Not sure if that means Iâ€™m now permitted to write on the failures of pacifism, but what the hell. Put on a puppet head and a daisy belt and come try to stop me, anonymous punk.
Give me your home address, Jesse, and Iâ€™ll come over and give you the spanking your parents should have given your bitch ass long ago, before you turned into a smug little 125-pound pre-cancerous mole on the body politic.Fuck you, you whiny pussy.
Now this is one thing, and it’s bad enough but for those of us who’ve been on the internet for years, losing one’s temper and offering to kick someone’s ass is something that might happen once or twice. Maybe. In many many years of net surfing. But we’re talking about Jeff Goldstein here, a person who is not normal, a person who gives even violently crazy people a bad name. He’s violently crazy politically (he wants the U.N. nuked and relishes talk about nuking Mecca), and violently crazy personally. Here is the armadillo again, and again he functions as Goldstein’s surrogate, allowing him to say what he otherwise couldn’t:
When the trolls arrived in force earlier this week, the little fella gathered up a few of his firearms, built a blind in the front yard, strapped on his Kevlar and night vision scope, and began lying in wait for any suspicious looking interlopers.[...]
Which is all just a roundabout way of saying that if youâ€™re planning on popping over later unannounced, you might want to make sure youâ€™re wearing an orange safety vest. And carrying a big placard with Dick Cheneyâ€™s face on it.
Or a Lynyrd Skynyrd poster, at the very least.
Because while the little armored bastard may be drunk, fatigued, and stinking of digested beef tubeâ€”heâ€™s also a damn fine shot who, god bless him, can recognize the friendlies at 200 yards.
I just usually delete the death threats in the comments and save the ones that Iâ€™ve received from real email addresses.Off topic, but here in Colorado we have the â€œmake my dayâ€? law.
Death threats, my ass. The only threats of violence I’ve ever seen at PW came from Goldstein and his commenters. I’ve already covered Pasty’s so let’s deal with those of his thugs. When YearlyKos @ Vegas was announced, PW wingnuts considered it a perfect occasion to indulge in some exterminationist fantasies:
Jeff, I have 2 words for you:Field Trip
tw: ever, as in best idea…
Picture a couple dozen of us, with axe handles in tow, dropping by to say hello. It would be like an Alaskan seal hunt.
Itâ€™s a damn shame I wonâ€™t be there until the July.
And what do they imagine doing to liberal PW commenters? Well,
IP address, Jeff. Send me $20 in gas money and problem is solved (I have a Honda). smirk
It will be love at first sight, actus. We will take windy walks on the beach. You can dress up in a hot-red mini and tape back the package, and wear those naughty, naughty pumps. I will seranade you with 2 Live Crew and Ludakris. I will be like: My name is ANtonio Banderas. You are a very beautiful woman. Come, you shall be with me tonight. And then I can show you where they buried Jimmah Hoffa.
Hint hint. But that’s only after he gets the gang rape/forced bukkake treatment:
Then we could all get in a great big circle, like you are used to princess, and put you on your knees and then paddle you like you were an initiate to a German Fraternity. Oh, Einz! Oh, Zwei! Oh, Drei! Oh,…Einz, again! Ja, ja, I am a bad little Fraulein! And then we can get really nasty. But thatâ€™s why you come here isnâ€™t it?
And in this thread a few of them advise Goldstein to take guns to EschaConII — hahahahaha SO FUNNY!!
Even Charles Johnson’s troglodytes don’t type this kind of shit (not even about Muslims). Neither does Charles Johnson edit “comments and replace them with his own words.” But then Goldstein thinks his allowing comments at all is a supreme act of charity. Nor does Charles Johnson, or any other wingnut, solicit donations by insulting those of whom he begs. Ahh, but I told ya Goldstein was unique (not to mention tactless and ungrateful)!
I also don’t know of any other wingnut who has such a (stupid) contempt for anonymity/pseudonymity as Goldstein; he really does think it’s worse than plagiarism. It’s no great surprise, then, that Goldstien and his commenters outted a couple of anonymous liberal bloggers, any notion of “Online Integrity” be damned. Nor is it any great surprise to learn that it was probably one of Goldstein’s commenters who wrote about the outed bloggers’ one-year-old child that she “had cocksucking lips.” Goldstein has affected shock that anyone could assume such behavior comes from his commenters! But really, Pasty. C’mon. Even paste-eating imbeciles are not entirely unaware; Goldstein knows his own crowd. It’s obvious that the two lefties were outted and their kid pervertedly and threateningly characterized so that they’d be intimidated and quit making fun of poor beleaguered heroic Jeff Goldstein’s silly rants. After all, no one wants to be clubbed like a baby seal, much less gangbanged and then (ahem ahem) shown where Jimmy Hoffa is buried. But noooo, says Goldstein, what a slur it is to he and his commenters good name to assume that they’d be so depraved! Besides, the liberals made him do it! They didn’t sign the integrity pledge! They deserved what they got! And now Goldstein’s attitude to the two liberals’ private info being in the hands of some wingnuts is very much like Asquith’s to Roger Casement’s diary being in the hands of the thugs of their day: “Excellent. And you need not be particular about keeping it to yourself.”
Is all this violent insanity what Goldstein means to excuse by saying so clumsily, “The price we have to play [sic] is a certain coarsening of the discourse, but people will be better informed in the long run”? I know some particularly hackulent Goldstein apologists will argue that it’s all just irreverant South Park humor. Sorry, not true; unless they mean that Goldstein resembles the sociopathically vengeful Cartman in the “Scott Tenorman Must Die” episode. Really, he’s that insane. I mean it.
It all came out after Goldstein characterized Jane Hamsher as a drunk, which was yet another instance of projection. Jane, as is her wont, turned the other fist, righteously; sort of like Adlai Stevenson to Richard Nixon: “If you’ll stop telling lies about me, I’ll stop telling the truth about you.” Goldstein takes tranquilizers. Which is not a bad thing. What is unfortunate, for everyone, is that he’s either not prescribed enough of them or not given them in high enough dosage. He’s been on them for a while now and.. well look at all the batshit insanity I’ve documented. He’s so thin-skinned he’s probably as transparent as that Mr. Body dork who used to be on Captain Kangaroo. His sex and violence issues plainly call for a more strenous and regimented type of therapy (I’m thinking of a padded cells here). The 2mg klonopin just isn’t doing any good; I mean, look at what happens when someone merely speculates that the rightwing Jerusalem Post’s blog contest might be too heavily loaded with Pajamas Media hacks:
BEHOLD THE POWER OF THE COLLECTIVIST JOOOOS!Two months now, man. Aren’t you embarrassed yet? I mean, for all your criticism about the paucity of decent material in the blogosphere, do you not find it even a bit ironic that all you do is post lard-heavy biscuit recipes and embarrassingly personal attacks on Roger Simon, et al?
How angry can one man be, for Chrissakes?Me, I’m recently on Klonopin. Relaxed now, I find it easier to dismiss, on a visceral level, the garbage you’ve been posting day after day after day for the last two plus months. But from that objective zone so blissfully provided me thanks to a decent 2mg dose of benzodiazepine, I can honestly note that you are making a fucking fool of yourself.
Right. Anyway, there’s gotta be a bright side to studying all this nastiness, right? Well, in conclusion, let me quote this opinion of Goldstein, perhaps the most hilariously moronic thing the speaker ever uttered, surely worthy of the paste-eater himself:
And Dave Price emails: “If not Bill Quick, why not Jeff Goldstein [to replace Ben Domenech at the Washington Post]? The Left has already been about as abusive to him as they can be.” Yep. And it rolls right off. Plus, who could read Goldstein’s stuff and even imagine that it had been previously published?
Instayokel’s laff-riot does in a way help me think my post here might have been worth the effort. It may just help to prevent Jeff Goldstein from ever getting a political-writing gig in non-wingnut media; after all, does the Washington Post really want to hire a psychopath to replace a fraud? Goldstein might start emailing lurid questions to Bob Woodward about the size of Deep Throat’s cock or something. So if this post makes someone think twice about hiring Goldstein (who is so on the make), well, then considering how Pasty’s treated people, that possibility makes me smile.
(For Thers & clan.)