There is more merriment in store today from Right Wing News. You remember, that’s the site that is run by the troglodytic John Hawkins and that surveyed other right-wing troglodytes asking them who was the worst person in American history. You’re probably not surprised that monsters like Jimmy Carter, FDR and the Kenyan-in-Chief were at the top of the list and thought by the surveyed bloggers to be way worse than, say, Timothy McVeigh, John Wilkes Boothe, Jeffrey Dahmer, Aldrich Ames, Rachael Ray and Richard Simmons, some of whom did not even make the list.
The new merriment is that John has reached deep into the loose change shoebox he keeps under his bed (a safe place because no one has ever gone looking for anything near Hawkins’s bed) and announced that Right Wing News is going to sponsor . . .
. . . Homocon! Better yet, RWN is the very first sponsor of Homocon given that, understandably, Frito-Lay, and Mountain Dew have cut back on their sponsorship budgets.
“Homocon?” you ask. “Que est-ce que c’est, ce Homocon?” Well think Comic-Con and replace the socially-inept, lonely, dweebish middle-aged men who love comics with socially-inept, lonely, dweebish, middle-aged Republican men who love other men. The main difference between Comic-Con and Homocon is that there won’t be anybody running around in Star Wars costumes at Homocon but instead there may be awkward gay men running around in Ann Coulter costumes, since Coulter — an internationally recognized gay rights icon — will be the keynote speaker at this upcoming Shame-boree.
The reaction by Hawkins’s faithful commenters have been mixed. One commenter promptly and predictably showed up with this:
Hmmm.. Must be that you’re actually a Homo yourself.
Gross, Disgusting, The Conservative has gone to hell.
Read the Bible people!!!!!!!!!!!!
Of course, I always do everything that people tell me in sentences with twelve million exclamation points. I’lll be back after I’ve finished reading the Bible, including the bit about smashing babies against rocks, presumably for having eaten scallops or something.
Another commenter was flirting with possible attendance but couldn’t help admitting to a concern or two:
Seems like a good project. As an aside, it might be helpful for marketing if GOProud made the itinerary a little more clear.
Apparently he’s concerned that one of the break-out panels will be a trip to an S&M leather fisting bar in Chelsea.
However, if the commenter was concerned about the meeting’s agenda, rather than its itinerary, he has a good point. And this is where I can help. I thought it might be helpful to the homos of Homocon if I proposed an agenda. So here it is:
Only social parasites expect free Danish pastries, so bring your own food.
“How Gay Conservatives Are The Real Victims.”
“Why Are Gay Liberals So Obsessed with the Victimization of Gays?”
Only social parasites expect free coffee. Find a Starbucks.
“Why It’s Okay To Bargain Away The Rights of Other Gays for Your Own Tax Cut.”
Dating Tips for GOP Homos — Wear Antiperspirant, Brush Your Teeth, Change Your Underwear and Don’t Shout ‘Trust, But Verify’ When Coming.”
Find an Olive Garden
“If You Were In Favor of Gay Marriage, Which Gay Blogger Would You Gay Marry?”
“Who Is The Hottest: Lindsey Graham, Our Sole Sponsor John Hawkins, or Mitch McConnell?”
Lefty liberal Dhimmicrat sharia-loving JournoList Greg Abu Hussein al-Sargent thinks he’s so smart pointing out that it was the Bush administration that first sent the Ground Zero Mosque terrorist imam to the Mideast as a cultural emissary of the United States. What al-Sargent fails to realize was that the Bush State Department was overrun by Muslim terrorist infiltrators and that there was nothing Bush could do about it. In fact, Bush personally was absolutely, completely, and one-hundred percent opposed to the imam’s trip but completely powerless to stop it.
Erick Erickson, who once twittered that retired Justice Souter was a “goat fucking child molester,” has been trolling Nancy Pelosi’s Twitter feed looking for dirt for a blog post on the Speaker, which is pretty much like Charles Manson doing a criminal record search on Sharon Tate.
And this is what the old Frito-breathed pud-yanker has come up with:
On July 4th the Speaker of the United States House of Representatives . . . oh, you’ve figured it out. Nancy Pelosi didn’t do a darn thing on Twitter for the 4th of July — no “Happy Birthday America” or “God/Allah/Aqua Buddha bless the USA” or anything else.
In his slobbering haste to accuse Pelosi of being an America-hating, terrorist-loving, Marx-worshipping, homosexual-loving traitress, it doesn’t occur to Erickson to take a gander at his own Twitter feed on July 4 to make sure that he had himself put on his flag lapel pin, put his hand on his heart, sung “Happy Birthday America” and otherwise polished his own America-loving patriotic credentials.
So, was there a heart-warming patriotic pageant on display on Erickson’s July 4th Twitter feed? Sadly, No!
However, it was enlightening to learn that Erickson was “smoking a Boston Butt on his green egg” on the evening before July 4. Sometime I really just don’t know how I survived before Twitter. But I give you my word, you will never hear me talking about smoking butt on my Twitter feed, and, if I you do, well, just press the unfollow button and get on with your life.
It was only a matter of time before Hugh Hewitt weighed in on the controversy over Cordoba House, and, boy, was it worth the wait. Pretending that he and he alone has discovered the ultimate arguments to demolish the Muslim-loving liberals, he throws down on the table two deliciously absurd arguments — well, three really, if you count his claim that Ground Zero is “sacred ground” just like the Gettysburg Battlefield and should not be encroached by any development — without realizing, of course, that he’s implicitly calling for razing everything in Manhattan.
The other two arguments are what I would call double flea flicker reverse strawmen. In a normal strawman, the writer demolishes an imaginary argument. In a double flea flicker reverse strawman, the imaginary argument does the demolishing. Serious scholars refer to this rhetorical tactic as an argumentum ad sparkleponium, or an appeal to a mythical race of creatures or a non-existent phenomenon.
To attempt to rebut the notion that those opposing the Cordoba House aren’t religious bigots, Hugh offers up his first example of the argumentum ad sparkleponium.
It is a certainty that many among the overwhelming majorities that oppose GZM would gladly write a check to the building fund of a mosque at a different location in Manhattan, a location not chosen to exploit the fact that an attack on America took place where the mosque was built.
Show me the money, Hugh! Show me the money! And the sparkle ponies.
He follows up with an even more awesome argumentum ad sparkleponium
Those same overwhelming majorities would oppose a Roman Catholic cathedral on the same site.
And Hugh Hewitt will appear in the next Old Spice campaign stripped to the waist and riding a white pony.
Another Sunday, another diatribe on America’s Shittiest Website™ from washed-up former U.S. Attorney Andy McCarthy about how Mooslims are just a few mosques away from turning all Dressbarns into Burqabarns. And although the current diatribe starts off with a promisingly amusing reference to Dough-Jo Loadberg’s heft, it rapidly descends into standard issue right-wing bedwetting about how the reason that leftists are willing to put a Koran in every hotel nightstand is that they hate America and how the only way to show true love for our country is to piss all over the First Amendment’s guarantee of freedom of religion.
But as I was reading through Andy’s overheated claptrap, I thought a little experiment — a word substitution game, if you will — might be interesting:
Most of all, Americans are tired of the shroud of political correctness the ruling class has placed around Islam Judaism. We don’t object to anyone’s freedom of conscience, and we abide countless places for Muslims Jews to gather and worship even though we know a very high percentage of the Islamic Jewish centers and mosques synagogues are heavily influenced by Islamists Zionists. But we’re tired of being told things that aren’t true: e.g., that Islam Judaism is peaceful, tolerant and non-threatening; that sharia halakha — which is relentlessly authoritarian, discriminatory, and, in parts, savage — is something we need to accommodate; and that there is no connection between Islamic Jewish doctrine (which is supremacist and belligerent), Islamist Zionist terror, and the broader Islamist Jewish threat to our civilization. We’re tired of being told that people who can’t bring themselves to condemn Hamas Likud are “moderates” deserving of being taken seriously and having their endless grievances against America addressed. And we’re tired of being told that we shouldn’t examine or object to an authoritarian ideology just because it travels under the label of “religion.”
Actually, the whole post reads even better in German. (And how funny is calling Jonah “dass große Kerl”? I think Dough-Jo Loadberg has a new nom de loon: Große Kerlberg.)
It isn’t derogatory to refer to gay men “prancing” on Castro street because there are many non-derogatory uses of “prance.” Take Santa Claus, for example. Would he have named a reindeer “Prancer” if that were an anti-gay slur? I don’t think so.
Among the tsunami of wingnut outrage about the decision in California that will require all men to get gay-married and have teh buttsecks on their honeymoon with their new husbands, it’s not really a shocker that Don Bob “Squeal Like A Pig” Surber would win the statuette for the best performance by a sexually insecure male over the age of thirty attempting to demonstrate his macho creds. For extra hilarity points, Don’s take on the California decision demonstrates — yet again — that singular absence of intellectual acuity that consigns him to the job of being an opinion columnist for a newspaper in West Virginia, a state where newspapers are more often torn up into squares for use in an outhouse (after clipping out any coupons for Hot Pockets and Slim Jims) than are actually read. (“Too derned many big words!”)
The headline to Surber’s post on the California decision starts off the fun: “Judge: Voting Unconstitutional,” revealing that Don Bob not only hadn’t made it through the 138 page decision (“Too derned many big words!”) but also apparently learned everything he knows about the opinion from the chryon crawl during a Fox News Broadcast (“I wish they’d slow that derned thing down a little so it’d be easier for me to read!”). Understandably the subtle difference between the process of voting and the result of a particular vote is difficult for Don Bob to grasp, particularly inasmuch as Don Bob still can’t figure out the difference between antifreeze and crème de menthe, regularly pouring the former into his Southern Comfort stingers. (“Doc, this ringing in my ears won’t go away and I think I may be going blind.”) I looked back through Don’s scribblings to see if he expressed similar outrage when the Supreme Court has overturned democratically adopted gun prohibition laws. Sadly, no!
The voters of California decided that marriage is between a man and a woman.
A gay federal judge told them to go to help.
Wait a minute! Judge Walker is GAY? Are gay judges even allowed? Won’t they decide cases based on which side has the cutest attorneys and shout “fabulous objection” and stuff from the bench? And what children will ever again dream of going to law school once they realize that they might have to stand up in a courtroom and call a gay judge “your honor”?
The irony is that the same type of improvisational adjudication gave us the Plessey [sic] v. Ferguson ruling that denied blacks their 14th Amendment rights for 58 years.
Er, right, Don Bob. A case striking down a discriminatory law as unconstitutional is exactly the same thing as a case upholding a discriminatory law as constitutional. Because, I guess, if you let courts strike down discriminatory laws it means that courts cannot strike down other discriminatory laws and so gay marriage will mean that women can’t vote and blacks must ride in the back of the bus or something.
Don, it’s arguments like this that causes the Pulitzer Committee to call you each and every year and ask you, yet again, to stop nominating yourself. Not going to happen, Don Bob. Ever. As in I’ll gay marry Ryan Kwanten before Don Bob even gets a Pulitzer nomination and I’ll gay-have Ryan Kwanten’s gay children before Don Bob wins the prize itself.
Impeach the judge for hearing a case in which he had a pecuniary interest — a tax break if he marries his gay lover.
OMG, he might save a couple of hundred bucks on his California taxes. That’s nothing of course compared to the money that he’ll save by having a family membership at the gym and by being able to share a Costco membership. Assuming, of course, the gay judge Walker wants to gay marry his gay lover and live in a gay house on gay street and do gay things with other gay-married gay people. Did Don Bob mention that the judge was gay?
Actually, you have to wonder if there is any judge who could have been impartial in deciding the California case. If the opponents of gay marriage are correct, gay marriage will destroy the institution of “opposite” marriage, which will be bad for heterosexuals. And of course the gay judges will always vote for the gay. So who could possibly be impartial except perhaps for . . .
When we last visited with the well-fed and rosy-cheeked Julie Gunlock, she was in high dudgeon about the cuisine at a DC soup kitchen that was serving fancy-pants gourmet items to the homeless instead of graham crackers and gruel. If you give a homeless man a bowl of pumpkin soup, she whined, he’ll never break the vicious cycle of poverty, alcoholism, drug abuse and disease and instead will simply spend the rest of his life supping on puff pastry, arugula, balsamic vinegar, baby artichokes and other delicacies normally reserved for people who have their own homes.
In most cases a performance like that would be hard to top. Most decent people with even a modicum of shame know that it’s not really good form to argue that some people simply deserve crappy food because they are, well, less fortunate. Noblesse oblige, and all that, keeps all but the most lunatic of wingnuts from straying down the path of trying to yank shit off of a hungry person’s dinner plate.
Of course, veteran SadlyNauts know that the preceding paragraph is a dead giveaway that Julie Gunlock has indeed managed to sink even lower in her culinary Darwinism.
What, your are probably wondering, could be worse than complaining that the food doled out in soup kitchens is too hoity-toity? Think children. Think hungry children. Think hungry poor children Think school breakfasts and lunches that are sometimes the only meals that children eat that don’t come in a snack food bag from 7-11. And, yes, Julie Plumplock thinks that this free lunch for 8-year-old freeloaders should be stopped so that their impoverished parents can whip up in their tiny kitchens some nutritional lunches for their kids to carry to school to eat instead of the government-subsidized food in the cafeteria.
Feeding a child is one of the most basic parental responsibilities, yet first lady Michelle Obama wishes to liberate parents from this fundamental role by urging them to rely on the public schools to feed their children.
Julie thinks, apparently, that if inner-city and rural mothers are liberated from the tyranny of the statist school cafeteria, they will be able to send their children to school with cold poached salmon (high in Omega-3s) and whole grain salads (say a tasty tabbouleh), both to be washed down with pomegranate and acai berry juice and all packed up in a fancy little lunch boxes.
In this op-ed in the Washington Post, the first lady pushes for congressional passage of the Child Nutrition Act, a bill that would not only increase funding for the already-wasteful and badly managed school-lunch program but relax eligibility requirements so that more children can be enrolled.
Oh my god! There go the socialists shoving more food down poor kids throats. Those throat-cramming socialists, by the way, include the noted Marxist Saxby Chambliss who, along with a number of other Lenin-worshiping Republicans, supports the bill
If this country is going to get serious about childhood obesity, we need to detangle food and the public schools and get back to better parenting — basic parenting. Government doesn’t do anything well, least of all cooking.
This is rich coming from Julie Gumlock, a name that refers to the visceral reaction of most people when they encounter one of her culinary delights. Ms. Gumlock has printed a number of recipes in her food column in The Examiner including one called — I shit you not — Cheese Platter Pasta. Here is a shorter version of Cheese Platter Pasta:
Boil some kind of pasta. Take some of the boiling water from the pasta and pour it into a bowl of leftover cheese from a cheese platter until the cheese gets all gooey. Drain the pasta and pour the cheese-water-mess all over the pasta. Yum.
I have to think that even on the worst day in the most pathetic school cafeteria in the deepest backwoods of Georgia every single tray of food served up from that kitchen would be tastier and more nutritious than Ms. Gumlock’s Cheese Platter Pasta, which disqualifies Ms. Gumlock absolutely and forever from uttering another word about any school lunch program.
Heartless jerk Steve Spruiell continues to flop, flail and moan like an Italian soccer player in the middle of a penalty dive because we made fun of his outmoded Byron-Yorkish locks. I didn’t see all of the tweets shown below when Steve first spluttered them out yesterday, mainly because Steviekins doesn’t have the Twitter reply thing quite figured out yet, but I thought that all you SadlyNauts! might find them amusing.
Notice he goes on and one about everything BUT what started this in the first place — namely, my query as what kind of hypocritical simpleton complains, on a site that doesn’t allow comments, about Krugman putting a limit on the length of comments at his own blog? Hey, Stevie, come on. Step up to the plate on this one and take your best swing whiff at it.
Not bloody likely, of course. Steve-o would rather whine about how I was making fun of his kid, which I wasn’t (unless, of course, the haircut was the kid’s idea, which, frankly, seems unlikely). But this effort by Steve to fall on his Sarah Palin memorial fainting couch clutching his progeny to his breast is, frankly, pretty lame given that I showed more concern for the little tyke, by pixelating his face, than Spruiell did when he posted the identifiable picture in the first place. Steve at first seemed to concede this until he got all tanked up on Cap’n Morgans and Sunny Delight last night in his double wide and started tweeting again.
For continuing coverage go to my Twitter page and Stevie’s Twitter page. (Note: Sadly, No! is not responsible for any trauma caused by viewing the background design on Steve’s page.)
UPDATE: Oh, and how about we place a little side bet on how long it will be before Steve calls me a fag?