Was that supposed to be some kind of subtle satire? I really can’t think of anything that article was trying to say that wasn’t transparently idiotic. I’d put it up to an afternoon spent boozing, but the spelling & grammar are too good.

Good lord! I actually read the whole thing and I have no frackin’ idea what the point is. The fact that she meanders around aimlessly and that her writing really, REALLY sucks doesn’t help. On the plus side she doesn’t seem drunk this time…

Noonan sez: Cellphones are wonderful, but they empower the obnoxious and amplify the ignorant.

So, apprently, does a column in Opinion Journal.

Aggressive sales techniques: bad manners or capitalism at work?

And if those sales drones left the punter to quietly meander about the store as they wished, you can bet they’d have their arses kicked out the door by the obnoxious manager who wants them to be instant friends with every potential client, the same way a dealer is instant friends with every druggie. If she dislikes this behaviour, then she clearly dislikes Teh Very Foundation Of Capitalism, ie marketing. Aggressive marketing. And workers being slaves who should be forced to behave in humiliating ways at every opportunity.

Having said that, I too get very pissed off when I’m lunching with someone and they pull out their phone and start reading their text messages. I get very pointed, in fact, and have stopped seeing one friend altogether, because of her tendency to do this.

I think it’s a column made by MadLibs:

Remember back in the good old days when [noun] was [adjective]? But today, [plural noun] are [adjective] and the young people are [adjective].

I honestly think she does not get the deeper meaning behind the term “Gilded” Age.

Poor Peggy has never been the sharpest nail in the tool shed.

She is, however, a Handsome Woman™. And, especially compared to some other wingnuts, she knows how to use a comma!

Having been blessed by basking in the wonder-working presence of St. Ronny all those years ago, she will forever be celebrated as a font of wisdom by the Gipperists. And she will return the attention by spinning tales of Magic Dolphins and the like.

A shrewd analysis of the effect of unequal wealth distribution on American social behavior. I learned that incoherent guys in suits are billionaires and that not many years ago people fixed things in their garages.

I honestly think she does not get the deeper meaning behind the term “Gilded” Age.

No, she clearly doesn’t. I don’t think she gets much of anything. But I suppose she does get paid for this drivel.

So she’s annoyed that people are eager and willing to serve?

If the Noonan is jarred by the fast pace of commercial life in New York City, perhaps she do her shopping and dining in the Heartland.

perhaps she could do

Loonie Noonie:

What the superrich do for a living now often seems utterly incomprehensible, and has for at least a generation. There is no word for it, only an image. There’s a big pile of coins on a table. The rich shove their hands in, raise them, and as the coins sift through their fingers it makes . . . a bigger pile of coins. Then they sift through it again and the pile gets bigger again.

Peg, I’ll call your Enron and raise you a WorldCom and Adelphia.

The above quote remined me of The Bonfire of the Vanities when Sherman McCoy stumbles and bumbles as he tries explain to his young daughter what he does for a living.

We don’t actually like Peggy.

This psycho needs to spend about five years in a housing project living on minimum wage. Then she can realize that the more billionaires you make, the more hungry retail salespeople you have, because it’s not wealth creation, it’s merely wealth capture.

Then again, you’d think someone who said

You’d think broad comfort would assuage certain hungers.

would get the message that the majority of Americans don’t HAVE ‘broad comfort’. And so they HAVE to work it twice as hard as some shitbag doyenne with a fucking wingnut welfare job mangling the English language for a ‘living’.

See, this is a great example of why I just can’t read the rightwingnutcakes’ columns anymore: They’ve all turned into self-parody.

Shorter Peggers: Boy, I sure wish people like me didn’t have to actually encounter any of the hideously-overmanaged and grossly-underpaid wage slaves who make our luxurious lifestyle possible. Hey, I bet the readers of a journal dedicated to class warfare on behalf of the rich might feel the same way.

Actually, what I thought most interesting were the ads next to Peg’s Deep Thoughts: Faux News, Newt Gingrich, Ann Coulter . . .

In a time of recession, you’d think salespeople would be more aggressive, because so much might hinge on the sale–a commission, a job. In a time of relative wealth, you’d think they might be less aggressive. But the opposite seems true.

Does she think the salespeople and waiters are wealthy? What is going on in her mind when she writes something like that?

I get sick of this “Supersize that for you?” approach too. It’s everywhere. There’s an office supply store I used to shop at where they wouldn’t leave you alone — after you bought your purchases to the cashier and replied Yes to the obligatory “Did you find everything you wanted?” they’d try to sell you some of the items stacked on the counter. “We have a special on Sharpies today.” “Do you have enough glue sticks?” (as though you’d ever feel that you didn’t have enough glue sticks). It’d be 5 minutes before they took my money and let me go.

But I would never accuse these people of bad manners. They did this because they were told to by their boss. Every retail worker or service worker who pressures you is doing it because they have to if they want to keep their job. Does that not occur to Peggy? Of course, we’re all so wealthy now — she’s probably thinking that they could all retire on their investments if they wanted to.

And so they HAVE to work it twice as hard as some shitbag doyenne with a fucking wingnut welfare job mangling the English language for a ‘living’.

…who then turns around and uses their annoying hard-workingness as fodder for her latest English-mangling “column” in order to receive said wingnut welfare check. Ah yes, life is good.

As someone noted, Peggy seems to be turning The Bonfire of the Vanities into her own personal performance art. And I can all too easily see her “going full Garbo”, which would be funny if it weren’t pathetic.

You know what, Peggy? I hate being approached by salespersons as well. I loathe it when people try to use my name in a sentence in a bank. But, see, the reason I hate this is that I know they’re being forced into it by their asshole corporate owners, and I resent watching people have their dignity stripped away from them because the alternative is not eating. The appropriate response is, “Thank you, I’ll let you know if I need help.” Politely. You don’t have to get drama queen over it. And how much do you want to bet Peggy gets equally drama queen when she can’t find what she wants in a store and no employees helpfully rush up within seconds?

And while we’re on the subject of dignity, if I ever see Peggy in public, I’m probably going to be forced to spend several hours screaming at her about what, exactly, “relative wealth” means in a severely income stratified society.

Some people are never satisfied. If they’re not getting pissed off that a salesperson is paying attention to them, they’re getting pissed off because the salesperson isn’t paying attention to them.

I think Pegster’s reduced now to writing about whatever happened to her just before deadline.

Somehow I think her next column is going to be about how it’s a sign of the times that the clerk at the liquor store took too long to make change for a twenty when Peg was buying her bottle of Turning Leaf Chardonnay.

[…] checked Sadly, No! after I posted this by the way. And my shorter is shorter. HTML Mencken is just being opulent. So […]

Wanna bet she’s a shitty tipper, too?

I heard on NPR that Mitt Romney is using a Pegster quote in his new TV ad. I’m so glad I don’t watch TV…

The fuck? She reminds me of that guy in ‘Fletch’ – the douche bag at the Tennis Club who refused to tip the waiter because he tried to clear the guy’s plate before he finished his last Freedom Fry.

OH, and then Chevy ordered a steack sandwhich, a bloody mary, and a steack sandwhich on the dude’s credit, and then he banged Alen’s wife in her cabana. hehehehehe!!!!1one1111

That was awesome.

Hmmmm, Peg’s got a point. I mean, what is it with airline food, anyway?

Daoine Sidhe: What you said. Totally. With knobs on.

Two words: Marie Antoinette.

Sooner or later, someone was bound to peg me. Incidentally, D. Sidhe is my general purpose alias. Imagine the fun I have when people ask for my first name. If they can’t spell it and can’t say it, they often just cross you off the list and leave you alone.

I know exactly where Noonan is coming from with her complaint about the service staff rousing her from her consumerist reverie. It happens to me all the time at the Old Entomologist, except the bar-staff are less charitable, and instead of ‘reverie’ they tend to say ‘stupor’.

If they can’t spell it and can’t say it, they often just cross you off the list and leave you alone.
I learned long ago not to try pronouncing Gaelic words from the spelling, or to spell them from the pronounciation. According to one theory, Gaelic orthography originated with a bunch of monks who landed on the shores of Ireland with few possessions apart from a Scrabble set; every time they heard a new word from the locals, they would determine how to spell it by reaching into the Scrabble bag and drawing out a random handful of letters.

[…] Via Sadly, No!, Peggy Noonan is befuddled: the rich are getting richer, just like the olden days, but the poor (or at least, the not-rich) are failing to return to their natural state of tasteful obsequiousness. Also, the rich are kind of assholes, too. The gap between rich and poor is great, and there is plenty of want, and also confusion. What the superrich do for a living now often seems utterly incomprehensible, and has for at least a generation. There is no word for it, only an image. There’s a big pile of coins on a table. The rich shove their hands in, raise them, and as the coins sift through their fingers it makes . . . a bigger pile of coins. Then they sift through it again and the pile gets bigger again. […]

Peggy should know that it works both ways – if she wants the peons to show the subtle class of the servants of yore, then she as a member of the elite is going to have to show some class herself. Today’s wage slaves and proles are more cynical and better educated than ever before, as is required by our high tech age of POS service terminals and the intricacies of the luxury goods that we sell to our betters. We demand an elite that that is worthy of our groveling subservience, not this Wal-Mart Marie Antoinette crap.

[…] I love are mocking the hell out of Peggy Noonan’s miserable new edition to the “you can’t get good help these […]

I learned long ago not to try pronouncing Gaelic words from the spelling, or to spell them from the pronounciation.

Yeah, but have you run into Hugh Kenner’s explanation of why “Hamlet” is really pronounced “Olaf”?

but have you run into Hugh Kenner’s explanation of why “Hamlet” is really pronounced “Olaf”?

That’s somewhere in “A Colder Eye”, if memory serves me well.
Often it doesn’t. Yesterday memory spilled coffee on my lap and then wondered why I didn’t leave it a tip.

[…] Noonan whines about poor manners the feminist blogosphere whines back: Pandagon, Punk Ass Blog, Sadly No, Lawyers, Guns, and Money, and If I Ran The Zoo chime […]