Is it just me or are the made-up right-wing scandals literally getting dumber by the second. What’s next, guys? How Obama’s sock color choice proves he hates America? Whether or not Obamacare whitens your teeth enough to protect America from darkies?
Charles C.W. Cooke Esq., National Id:
Pajama Boy: The Obama Machine’s Id
Conservatives have a weird relationship with marketing.
I mean, the whole image before substance deal that once were critiques of the shallowness of campaigns like Reagan’s or Bush’s have become major badges of pride. Which is one thing, but like a malignant tumor, it has grown from there into a full-out religion of marketing as something akin to a God or powerful magic spirit.
Marketing one’s “brand”, winning the “image war” has become conservatism’s one obsession and at every level there is a firm belief that throwing enough money at marketing or yelling really loudly to win the “day” should be able to rewrite reality, bend people to their wills, and erase all history.
We saw it with the “we create our own history” delusion during the Bush years, in the stunted confusion of Karl Rove when it turned out all the advertising in the world didn’t magically make Mitt Romney likeable, in every right-wing pundit trying to argue that fictional works prove that everyone is as bigoted and small-minded as they are, in the bizarre defensiveness about the Duck Dynasty star not getting his Constitutional Right to be on TV, and of course, most disturbingly, in the frantic and rabid responses to the existence of advertising from “the other side”.
Whether its a frothing reaction to some company not being bigoted bastards for once and using something other than young white straight people or something like Malkin’s sputtering rant about previous Obama advertising, they seem physically pained to see something dared presented in their last little bastion of lily white male dominance that can in the slightest way challenge them and see everyone’s job to be to protect this “real world” from the predatory tendrils of the actually real world.
Shorter (or the last port before Jungle):
- Obama released a twitpic on his twitter feed! Clearly we have defeated the dark beast, for he is slain and routed and must clear the White House to make way for Sarah Palin, because as long as we rant super angrily and displace all our fucked up issues on a goddamned meaningless piece of fluff public announcement, then we can finally have that big win that will turn the last 5 years into just a painful haunting dream.
And the problem isn’t, as I claimed it was in my old Malkin post, that conservatives have difficulty telling the difference between real people and fictional people. Rather, it seems to be that they have decided that fictional people are better than real people and more important because real people tend to disappoint right-wing narratives by the messy business of not living in a world where the writers can bail you out of anything.
Real people disappoint, so let’s just discount them and focus only on the artifice of fictional characters, “reality”-TV actors, and marketing campaigns because those people actually present the world we really want to believe in. Where everyone is white, old fashioned gender norms still reign king, and everyone can own a massive apartment in New York on a bus boy’s salary.
It’s the last refuge of a dying ideology, so of course it must be violently defended. Advertising and advertising language become the sole battlefield and weapons and the only thing that should matter to a sheeple people willing to do whatever the TV or internet box tells them (as is proper) and swiftly and surely, they end up disappearing up their own buttholes in bizarre obsessions about nothing that leave the rest of us scratching our heads in confusion.
Take today’s post… no, wait, take this “bonus” post that Jonah Goldberg sent out to “lucky” readers who sign onto his email newsletter (which is why I’m linking to the fisking done by Roy Edroso at alicublog because fuck no am I going to be that big of a masochist for y’all).
I could easily write a whole second post just on the bizarre psychosexual issues that Goldberg dumps on a single image.
And how much it reveals the quivering anxious masculinity and fear of homosexuality that underlies so many of Jonah’s actions. Not to mention the bizarre sexual politics that were going on in the whole “wears the pants” interlude, which… yeah, I could easily write a full second post on this shit.
But instead, let’s look in on a different barrel of IT’S ALWAYS PROJECTION and unmitigated terror about a fucking twitpic.
Oh dear. The Obama administration isn’t doing very well with putting an empathetic face on its calamitous health-insurance law, is it?
Oh right, Obamacare.
Because of course this is just the latest tactic in conservatives’ prolonged tantrum about the existence of a slightly improved health care system. Which, seeing as how conservatives are sociopaths who only care about this issue, because it’s seen as a dangerous “win” for Democrats that will help them electorally with people who don’t enjoy dying of preventable illnesses, it’s all just extra fucking stupid.
Hey, Republicans? Are you worried that mediocre health care reform will hurt you electorally? You know what you could do other than digging your heels in and yelling no so that everyone can get a good look at how strongly you are against the notion of people surviving? Something that might save your collapsing party?
You could just get right out in front. Get together and demand a full European model redo. Say that this is your chief issue and damn the politics that would save our abusive health insurance system. Create a real governmental health system. Sure, it’ll be inconvenient to narratives and might mean accepting something that actually helps people, but by being the force “for” such an important system, you’ll gain that “loyalty” you are so afraid will kick in for Democrats and completely undercut them on this issue and save your asses.
And hey, if that is just too “liberal” to consider, you could also just shut the fuck up. It won’t necessarily stop reality from coming, but hey, neither is what you are currently doing, but at least it won’t keep you in the news as “those crazy fuckers who are still ranting about how evil it is to let you live”.
And it’d save you the stress of having to come up with a new distraction every two weeks to rant about incessantly in the name of “Obamacare bad”.
Or you could ignore all sense and continue flushing whatever remnant of your credibility down the commode in a desperate hope that enough advertising and screaming will make the Big Daddy Sky God rewind the clock and give you another chance to stop time from moving on without you.
That’s good too.
First, we had Julia, the creepy, eyeless, vision-of-horror from Brave New World whose life was run from cradle to grave by the federal government.
Yeah, I remember the last storm in a teacup about an advertisement. It was fucking hilarious. And it totally convinced all those uppity she-creatures that you weren’t reflexively antagonistic to their interests. Good job!
Then, we had Adriana, the painfully neutral and carefully ambi-racial stock-model-from-everywhere whose face became so synonymous with HealthCare.gov’s hilarious launch that she had to be replaced with a graphic plugging an 800 number.
I’m sorry, could we roll that again?
You didn’t actually manage to hide the way the model used wasn’t lily white drove you into a frenzied howl about how “those” people will grub up your nice clean white(-walled) doctor’s offices with their filthy black hands.
And now, courtesy of Organizing for Action, we have Pajama Boy, a metrosexual hipster in a plaid onesie who wants you to spend your precious Christmas days talking to him about the president’s vision for health insurance.
It’s a twitpic. A fucking twitpic. Hell, I’ll throw up the image up top so you can see it for yourself, but it’s a fucking meaningless throwaway advertisement, no more impactful than some kid’s selfie or some random vacation picture.
I mean, not to burst your bubble, but it just doesn’t fucking matter. I mean, yeah, I know you’ve seen liberals critiquing media messages and thought “I can do that”, but see, they are deconstructing the way a particular culture is sold to us through a unified monoculture built on tropes… and you… well, you’re ranting about a single twitpic as if it’s some home invader come to force you to gay marry Santa and praise Obama.
Let’s just say there’s a slight difference in purpose and scope going on.
Also, I’m a little fascinated by these wingnut responses to this random twitpic, because the subject matter is so empty and devoid of content, that it just becomes a glorious window into the glaring psychosexual issues that underlie the right-wing. Whether it is Jonah’s gynophobic anti-gay bully shtick or Charlie C’s odd “gay people will be in your home” fear, it reveals far more about the wingnuts themselves than the advertisement they seek to criticize.
Unlike your average Jehovah’s Witness, Pajama Boy has evidently managed not only to get into the warmth of your house to do his proselytizing, but to make himself a cup of hot chocolate and to get into his bedtime clothes to boot. That is to say, Pajama Boy is staying over — priggish facial expression and all — and he won’t leave until you’ve relented.
An image of someone at home, intended probably by advertising convention to be someone with loving family and able to relax with them and just shoot the shit with them, is seen wholly as an invader.
The reaction is straight up violent about this random image. He is unwelcome, he has burst into “their house”, and needs to be taught a lesson, largely for failing expectations of manly aggression. This faggy little interloper “drinks hot chocolate” and doesn’t view family occasions as a full out war between people who will latch onto any semblance of weakness like a starving chihuahua on a random stranger’s ankle.
Which… if that’s their viewpoint, it paints a very sad picture of the type of “Christmas” and “family” they work so hard to “protect”, not to mention their likely interactions with any poor child or niece or nephew, or fuck uncle or grandma who dares come out or be anything other than a rigid cookie-cutter reproduction of their same bigot selves.
A child who is comfortable and loving is an “enemy”. A stranger. Something to destroy.
I’ve seen the aftermath of such attitudes, hell, in some ways, I am the aftermath of that, but I don’t think I’ll ever understand the small-mindedness that underlies it.
The Founding Fathers certainly couldn’t have envisioned Obamacare,
No, nor assault rifles or the internet, but that doesn’t seem to have stopped you from claiming that they did.
but one suspects that if they had possessed even the slightest inkling that the growth of government would lead to this, they might have expanded the underused Third Amendment to include Advocates of Change™, too. These, suffice it to say, are people you do not want quartered anywhere near you.
I know you’re using the same special conservative reading glasses that turned “hey, we should have a national guard” into “everyone can have infinite howitzers in their garage with minimal oversight”, but it still seems a leap to go from “soldiers can’t forcibly live in your house without consent” to “government should back up you kicking your kid out if he looks too damn ‘queer’ by which we mean jewish”.
Also, I don’t think it’ll randomly serve as enforcement for the zoning laws and passive bigotry that you hope will keep your little corner of suburbia as conservative and white as you can for as long as the dream will live.
But nice try.
When Twitter rather predictably exploded with derision,
Oh hey, another Argumentum ad Twitter.
Yeah, it didn’t work the last hundred times you tried that stunt. Whatever made you think it’ll work this time?
a few contrarians suggested that the campaign was deliberately self-deprecating — silly, yes, but explicitly intended to provoke a reaction and thus to guarantee discussion.
Well, I guess. It’s also a completely meaningless piece of fluff. A bit of holiday silliness with no more impact than a wet fart.
I mean, I know you are still in full-blown fingers-in-ears mode and absolutely convinced that if you just ignore reality really hard, it’ll make the scary mean law go away, but yeah, sorry, the law passed and now people need to get signed up or they’ll get fined.
And that means telling people about it and that means making sure the word gets out to elderly grandmas and grandpas and other hermits waiting until the last minute.
Because like it or not, it’s something that just needs to be taken care of and hey, if there’s someone on hand who knows the “computer shit” to help them out, then great. It’s like hurricane warnings. Yeah, it may be annoying when they come up every five seconds to tell you to get the fuck out already and it may be annoying when they mobilize on twitter to get word to those you love in the area. But that’s just because the word needs to get out, and even then there are huge numbers who stay behind and need immediate rescue because of it or are killed.
And that’s with a giant wind storm of death. With something people are already used to procrastinating on because dealing with health insurance companies is like pulling teeth, it’s going to take a serious effort to get everyone taken care of and at least not taken by surprise.
Especially when you combine that impending deadline as part of the compromise that REPUBLICANS DEMANDED in lieu of single payer with the fact that signing up for health insurance can take awhile as companies or government agencies check your eligibilities and make sure everyone applying is being honest about income and so on as part of the other “fraud reduction” crap Republicans have been pushing for years.
But hey, you don’t want to hear about it because of reflexive hatred of black people. Whatever. But the meaningless “hey, maybe you should really start thinking about this shit, maybe” ads are going to have to flow and probably flow faster as the deadline looms closer.
And you’re going to have to find a healthy way to deal with that before you end up having to go to the Emergency Room this holiday season for a burst blood vessel.
I’m afraid that this doesn’t strike me as very likely. We are, after all, dealing with the tone-deaf team that thought that “Truth Team,” and “Attack Watch,” two services that allowed Americans to inform the White House about their Obama-criticizing neighbors, were a good idea. As Buzzfeed’s McKay Coppins has asked rhetorically, “Is there any battle in contemporary politics being waged with more indignity and less prowess than the tug-of-war for twentysomethings over Obamacare?”
No, there is not.
We’re not paranoid!!!
And we’ll prove it with our hyper-paranoid reaction to the knowledge that there might be liberals paying attention to our paid hit jobs and noting their existence and MOMMY TELL THEM THEY’RE NOT ALLOWED! IT’S NOT FAIR MOMMY! I DON’T WANNA WEAR MY PAJAMAS! IT’S NOT BEDTIME YET, MOMMY! I DON’T CARE WHAT TIME IT IS, I CAN STAY UP LATE, I’M A BIG BOY NOW! MOMMMEEEEEEEE!
Also, I know IT’S ALWAYS PROJECTION is your fucking bread and butter, but wow, you could at least hide the fact that you are trying to blame us for your single-minded hate campaign of psychoses about something that few of us are actually fully happy with (not because we also hate health care, but because this doesn’t nearly go far enough in fixing what’s wrong with health care in America (figured I needed to spell that out with you fuckers given your current frenzied state)).
But then what did you expect? OFA, and its various offshoots, are staffed by third-growth McGovernites who have come of age at the exact point that the radicalism of the 1960s finally won out. As David Burge of “Iowahawk” fame likes to joke, perhaps it wasn’t “a good idea to turn the most successful country in the history of the world over to the grievance faculty at Harvard.” Still, that is what we have done. And we have ended up with a parade of over-educated and under-experienced perpetual children who don’t think twice before dressing a grown man up in footie pajamas.
That’s an awful wordy way to just say:
“I WANT MY AMERICA BACK!”
Also, no. You don’t get “your” America back. I know you think that if you just watch only Nick at Nite shows and read right-wing blogs that it’ll somehow mean that everyone has to play along with your bizarre cosplay of a 1950s that never existed, but sorry, Billy, the last 50 years did in fact happen. Life has moved on. Brown people, queers, women, all these people are more and more recognized as people and it’s no longer as lauded to be an overprivileged whiny baby who wants to pretend that being born on third means you hit a triple.
No matter how much you yell, the clock will not wind back and make you a majority again.
So fucking well deal already.
Because we sure as shit sick of dealing with your crap all the time.
In Brideshead Revisited,
Oh Heavenly Buddha, are we really going to be doing another one of these “random fiction book agrees with my worldview if I apply my own projections on the main character, so clearly my worldview is everyone’s” dances again?
Sigh, let me go get my pretending to give a fuck glasses for this.
after Sebastian Flyte is repeatedly upbraided by the Oxford faculty for drinking too much and doing too little work, he asks Charles Ryder what one is expected to do instead. “How does one mend one’s ways?” he inquires:
I suppose one joins the League of Nations Union, and reads the Isis every week, and drinks coffee in the morning at the Cadena café and smokes a great pipe and plays hockey and goes out to tea on Boar’s Hill and to lectures at Keble, and rides a bicycle with a little tray full of note-books and drinks cocoa in the evening and discusses sex seriously.
Cool story, bro!
Times have changed, of course. The League of Nations Union is now the Queer Students Assocation. Sebastian’s proposed discussion of sex would today be replaced by a “dialogue” about the evils of “heteronormativity” or “micro-aggressions,” the pressing necessity of “safe spaces,” and the vital importance of whatever other buzzwords the comically hopeless liberal-arts students at Oberlin, Hampshire, and Brown are talking about these days.
No, please, don’t spare my feelings, how do you really feel about people who aren’t sociopaths trying to do right by each other and avoid unnecessary othering, insult, and injury?
Yeah, you’re not at all hurting from no longer being praised for smashing the “faggot’s” head into the wall and trying to grope the cheerleaders against their will. Nope, not even a little bit.
And smoking, being bad for you, certainly wouldn’t appeal. But the archetype of the goody-goody remains, right down to the drinking cocoa.
Okay, maybe this quote from the fucking 1920s doesn’t actually apply much except for the cocoa, but damnitt! IT’S AN OLD BOOK! That makes me automatically smart and well-read and totally scholarly and an expert. I mean, I use big words, and maybe it is true that I don’t know how the fuck to use them or have little more point to make than any liquored up bigot from the ‘Burbs, but uh… I IZ SMART! BELIEVE ME! I WENTS TO COLLEGE AND EVERYTHING!
Put a bunch of these people in a room with a few MacBook Airs and a shared copy of Adobe Photoshop, and this is the character they come up with by themselves. Because Pajama Boy is OFA; and OFA is Pajama Boy. The vaguely androgynous, student-glasses-wearing, Williamsburg hipster isn’t a clever marketing idea. It is the id of the Obama machine made public. Of course he’s made it onto the propaganda.
Androgynous. Metrosexual. There were also all the gay jokes in Loadpant’s little “epic”.
The fact that this figure isn’t in a suit, is instead comfortable and confident, is something that is somehow terrifying to their notion of how a “man” is supposed to look. And be. And that psychosexual reaction is actually kinda fascinating, because it reveals just how scared these fuckers must be all the time.
I mean, for fuck’s sake, a goddamn twitpic of a guy in fucking flannel jammies, the kind of shit that wouldn’t be out of place in some Canadian lumberjack’s home, is sending them clutching their family jewels and worrying about the insidious creep of homofascism.
They are so literally frightened of losing their fragile masculinity that they fear a non-aggressive reaction to a fucking guy drinking hot chocolate will somehow rob them of it and render them a “victim” of assumed “gay charms”.
Is it that pajamas are a form of underwear and thinking about any guy in his underwear sends them to their shame box? Is it that men are only ever supposed to be stern figures in suits acting serious, even during the holidays?
I don’t know, maybe I’m way too asexual and trans* to get this shit, but from afar, it looks like an unnecessarily painful way to live one’s life.
It’s okay not to be manly all the time, guys. In fact, it’d probably be best not to worry too much at all about that sort of thing given that you’re well, you. Just, you know, accept yourself, as you are, and don’t worry about needing to “prove” yourself all the time. Cause, honestly, hon, no one buys the earnestness of a tryhard. No one.
My former National Review colleague Dan Foster once rather depressingly suggested to me that The Big Bang Theory’s star geek, Leonard Hofstadter, was far from the loser that he needs to be for the joke to work, but instead the “voice of our generation.” One need only look at MSNBC for examples of this. The strapline du choix over at 30 Rock is “#nerdland”; the native tongue is the cretinous lingo of the graduate school; this season’s style is Earnest Ph.D.
Education bad, throw rocks at it! Boo, scary, fear thinking, it’s wrong and gay.
But please, listen to me, because I’m scholarly and academic and therefore know more than you.
It is a miracle that they don’t give themselves whiplash with the irony.
Candidate No. 6. Pajama Boy is, as Obama might put it, a composite character: part Chris Hayes, part Rachel Maddow, part Lena Dunham.
Pajama Boy is everything we fear about youth!
I figured we should just spell that out here just in case all the bits about “young people” shouldn’t even be allowed inside the home was just a little too subtle for the mouth-breathers we call an audience.
Which, I guess, is also the reason for the bizarre “anti-media analysis bashing of all those uppity college-educated smart youths making the damn videos and blogs about shit” interludes in the middle. My guess is that he found out about the existence of the Nostalgia Critic, Linkara, or Todd in the Shadows and is having a bit of a quarter-life crisis that a bunch of underemployed vloggers manage to be more eloquent than him despite never going to Cambridge.
Bonus irony? Charlie “I wanna be a real boy” Cooke’s one of those “see we got a young person to tell you old fucks the movement is going to be just fine without you” hires.
Ha. Lord save us from desperate kapos.
One of the funnier photoshops from last night features the caption, “Mommy said I could stay up late tonight.” If so, he isn’t waiting for PBS to broadcast the boobs and bad language on imported British comedies, as overgrown children once did; he’s ignoring his bedtime to ensure the Howard Zinn special on All In records properly.
PAJAMAS ARE CHILD! BAH CHILD! KILL IT!
But we love children and only we care about their best interest which always seem to be just what conservatives want to do in terms of enforcing sexual norms and the role of women.
Also, is the hate object a stunted object of growth (one wearing the same type of shit my middle aged dad used to wear regularly on Christmas) or an overeducated “know-it-all” who is inherently untrustworthy because of his erudition and education.
I know you want it both ways, dude, but you can’t actually have it.
To paraphrase Oscar Wilde, to screw up one Obamacare personification may be regarded as a misfortune; to screw up them all looks like carelessness.
It’s a fucking ad.
They are all fucking ads.
There’s no fucking there there. Even if every single ad was just a blood-dripping mess of human skin and the screams of children, it wouldn’t fucking say anything other than the ad agency hired is a team of real fucking psychos.
You “deciding” that a handful of random images and ad moments are “disasters” because you hate the program and this is literally all you can latch onto, doesn’t actually mean you are doing anything of meaning or merit or actually saying anything deep.
This wouldn’t take down Obama even if you had legitimate grievances with the ads*, so pushing this when you literally have nothing just makes you look like the obsessed stalker fucks you are.
You need to stop now before you find yourself in the stage where you’re trying to dig through Obama’s garbage or trying to pay a shady fellow your entire life savings for a blurry picture shot from the bushes.
Or, perhaps better: ignorance.
You write for the National Review.
You don’t get to call anyone ignorant.
The harsh truth is that the advertising machine behind the Obama administration seems not to really know what normal human beings are like.
IT’S ALWAYS PROJECTION is a truism for a reason.
In Colorado, when OFA-wannabe group, ProgressNowColorado, was charged with selling the law to young people, it drew on the worst of cartoons. All the women were sluts; all the men were idiots; all the girls were playing extremely violent sports.
I really don’t know why you keep thinking this tactic is a winner. If ranting about a fucking advertisement showing “filthy liberal people” in your imaginary perfect bubble didn’t work for you the last fifty times you tried it, it’s not going to magically get better the fifty-first time.
But fuck it, let’s go try and find these “terrible” ads seeing as you apparently didn’t have the fucking ovaries to actually post a link to this shit.
Which, first of all, HA! Second of all, Pfft, hilarious. Third of all, oh my fucking Bob, you idiots are so predictably easy to startle. Fourth, BWAHAHAHA!
And to save time, let’s skip down to a hundred and sixteenth, there are two, count them, TWO, images of dudes among the collection. One is of two guys going golfing and the other is a guy doing a kegger. Seeing as how both of these activities are usually cheered by gynophobic conservatives as properly manly activities that repel evil feminizing rays, I must admit it’s rather revealing of your self-worth that you consider these actions “men being idiots”.
I mean, yeah, I agree with you that both of those activities are kinda fucking imbecilic and either bad for one’s health or bad for the environment, but yeah, that’s because I’m a filthy hippie liberal she-beast. So what exactly is your excuse here.
Oh and spoiler alert, “women being sluts” is pictures of moms or a single pregnant woman. But conservatives are not at all sexphobic reactionary misogynists as evidenced by the abortion movement and are totally the movement of motherhood and caring about the care and welfare of kids.
I mean, you’ll still believe us, even though we’ve let the cat out of the bag, right? Fuck, I hope so, cause we can’t at all afford to have women’s voting records start resembling African-American records.
In short (HA), BWAHAHAHAHA, he’s scared of the mean-roller-ladies! BWAHAHAHAHA! If he saw a leather momma stone butch, he’d probably shit himself inside out. BWAHAHAHA!
It was, in other words, an expensive exercise in overcompensation
And I’m sure, you know absolutely nothing about overcompensation.
— the inexplicable indulgence of a group of silly people with chips on their shoulders
Oh holy fuck, are we actually talking about you now? Because yeah, there’s one side that’s a bunch of silly fucks making themselves into amazing self-parodies with the raw tantrum fury of their shoulder chips, and well… it’s not exactly random hipster liberals, if you get what I’m saying.
who had forgotten that their brief was actually to achieve something.
You ever wonder if irony and self-awareness ever try to sidle up to introduce themselves to him at parties, but he keeps jumping out of windows because he thought he saw a roller-derby girl or a homosexual?
If anything will save conservatives from the expansive agenda of the Left,
It’s not freaking the fuck out every time someone releases a meaningless ad and pretending it’s like the attack on Pearl Harbor?
If anything will save conservatives from the expansive agenda of the Left, it may be that progressives honestly do believe deep down that intentions and words are equal to achievement and action, and, too, that like the hapless revolutionaries in Life of Brian, sticking to arbitrary sensitivity rules is as important as running the government properly.
Ohhhh. What will save you is that liberals actually give a damn about people and doing right by them or at least trying to be fair, just, and empathetic.
And that by being sociopaths who only care about the “mission” and “winning” you can exploit that kindness and respect in order to gain disproportionate favors and power.
Which, um… about that.
You’ve been doing that for over 30 years now. And yeah, you’ve had some measure of success with that shit, but at the end of the day, raw image and tactics will only get you so far.
Cause winning the day, delaying that progressive step, or exploiting governmental formalities to halt all progress might slow the game, but clock is still ticking. Socially, the world is moving on. It’s no longer a majority thing to be bigoted against gays. A black man can serve as president and for many people that’s not a terribly big deal. A woman can be a strong protagonist in a movie or even not end up with the boy or even be an out feminist and it can sell out theaters. People are slowly improving how they look at trans* people and drugs. And a lot of people are too young to be so scared of Ruskies that unregulated capitalism still looks like a swell idea.
The world is changing. The world has changed without you.
And you’re going to have to either respond to that with something real or accept your continued drift into obscurity. The choice is yours. The choice has always been yours.
That, at this late and critical stage, the administration could not help itself but to demonstrate that it really is its critics’ worst nightmare is, perversely, encouraging. “How are you going to encourage people to sign up, then?” conservatives asked. “Pajama Boy!” came the answer. And then we all laughed and went about our business — in adults’ clothes, of course.
And yet that thin veneer of cosplay could not change the reality. That you were a bunch of overgrown children, ferried by privilege and connections and money to lifelong secure failure pits in the wingnut welfare circuit, selling simple lies to simple people.
And by bitching about literal nothing and congratulating yourself as if you had felled a great beast with nothing but a spear, you revealed yourself to be beneath an empty ad of a guy drinking cocoa on Christmas morning. Beneath frivolity and artifice, seeking its stamp of adulthood, but unable to rise up.
I’d weep at the tragedy, if I just didn’t fucking care.
You fuckers are hella psychotic, yo. Get some damn help already.
‘Shorter’ concept created by Daniel Davies and perfected by Elton Beard. Pfft. I don’t even wear pajamas to sleep. We are aware of all Internet traditions.™
* I mean, for fuck’s sake, they have so missed the point of media analysis. It’s not a matter of going, this ad is terrible, X clearly is bad. It’s a matter of deconstructing the attitudes and worldviews being sold. Looking at it, usually in the context of an overall problem that is everpresent and ignored.
Often it is a mere facet. An example to present a point usually about privilege or the way images shape our “idea of what the world looks like” more than the way the world actually looks. Deconstructing a Disney movie and talking about the limitations placed on the “Princess” role or noting the problematic racial themes in things like Pocahontas are not just a smear piece to say, Disney bad, they shouldn’t be a company anymore. They’re part of a larger conversation on the impact tropes and mythologies about history have on modern understandings of women and Natives or how these feed into systems that privilege a particular type of white people’s story over the lives of everyone else.
And bitching about them isn’t looking to eliminate a company, but about making a culture less shit. Companies like Disney responding to the critiques by actually thinking about what resorting to easy tropes says is a good thing and usually the best hoped change one can make with media analysis.
It can’t and shouldn’t operate as just a bizarre way to try and critique the character of another person in the hopes of better being able to make an Argument from Authority against them. That’s just not how it fucking works.
And it’s the reason why what they assumed would be a hip and scholarly piece just ends up as the bitter ramblings of a bunch of bar regulars bitching about “the missuses” as they drink up all their money and self-respect.
**Eh… okay, maybe a few mangos from Goldberg’s Magnum Failus.
Pajama Boy is a Low-T liberal who wears a “this is what a feminist looks like” T-shirt and flinches whenever his girlfriend makes a sudden movement.
Cause all feminist men are domestic violence sufferers being beat by overbearing women, because that’s the only way one could ever think those filthy vagina-beasts are fully human, am i rite?
Now, quick, before you call A&E and have my reality show canceled, the first problem with this joke is that you’re not supposed to make any derogatory jokes about being gay anymore. And that’s okay by me so long as people avoid being complete tools about enforcing that rule.
I’m perfectly okay with their being a social expectation that people not be homophobic dicks as long as no one in any capacity attempts to enforce such social norm on me.
Otherwise all the bigotry I’m already performing will be your fault according to the ancient law of nuh uh, you.
When the brouhaha started, I was tempted to make the following joke on Twitter:
Q: What’s the hardest part of being picked as the poster boy for the pajama-boy ad campaign?
A: Telling your parents you’re gay.
Apparently “hurr hurr fag” is the epitome of comedy at Natonal Review central.
I mean that there are plenty of gay dudes — and women! — who are vastly more masculine than Pajama Boy. Pajama Boy doesn’t exude homosexuality; he gives off the anodyne scent of emasculation.
Man, it always comes back to castration anxiety for these people doesn’t it.
Hey, dipshits, other people not being “manly” enough or even not being men at all, doesn’t at all affect you or your trembling flower of a masculinity, so fucking chill already.
I mean, honestly, if you keep trembling, you’re going to just get blood everywhere once the evil feminazi agenda makes the snip.