The Beast is Red, Chapter 5: Soy Un Perdidor
I think David Horowitz is ratting me out. The little zero stood reading my e-mails over my shoulder (quite a feat, given that I’ve got a foot and a half on him) for about ten minutes before I noticed him, and in the hour or so since, I’ve been getting bad looks from my fellow conventioneers. I’ve retreated to the hotel bar — frustratingly empty: as my alkie dad might have told me if he’d ever dried out, never trust a group that doesn’t drink before 5PM — and I can hear the roar of the crazed from the lobby as Ron Paul comes blustering in for his 3PM speech. Pamela Atlas Geller Oshry Wojohowicz Smith Kline Welcome’s Long Island wheeze echoes from nearby, but I can’t put a face to the name, and thank the Christ her people murdered that I can’t. (Judging from the cocktail conversation, there’s an equal number of Israel-defenders and Jew-haters in attendance today.) Celebrity sightings: Ben Stein, Mary Katherine Ham, and a number of flyover senators. I order a martini, as dry as Ace of Spades’ sense of humor isn’t, and the bar PA starts playing “Stand By Your Man”. Which reminds me of:
Noon. Mitt Romney’s funeral pyre. Desk-drawer Ann Coulter manqué Laura Ingraham is introducing him, and her speech is a fiery enfilade against the RINOs who seem to think that the faceless Mormon nonentity isn’t the second coming of Ronald Reagan, who I am beginning to think of as the fourth member of the Holy Trinity. She refers to the fact that “the three remaining Republican candidates for president” are all in attendance; that must cheese off Ron Paul something fierce, and a cheesed-off Ron Paul is a joy forever. Laura keeps saying “Should we calm down?” Yes, Laura, you should. You in particular should calm way the fuck down. Of course, she’s giving a more inspiring speech than he ever has. When she finally brings him on, he says of the conservative wing of the G.O.P. that they are “beautiful and talented”, and if Mitt’s not fucking her, I’ll eat a quarter.
The crowd is absolutely explosive for Mitt; if the rumors are true that he’s about to chicken-walk out of the race, there’s gonna be a lot of tears. (Although, of course, there were the callow little shits of the YAF I ran across in the Exhibit Hall who were already swapping out their Romney buttons and stickers.) The true believers saw in him what they saw in Reagan, a mildly pleasant cipher of a man upon whom they could impress their most extreme beliefs: a man doing bad things and allowing you to feel good about them. His speech, delivered in that clipped I-can-only-read-five-words-at-a-time way he has, is hitting on all the cheer buttons: security, lower taxes, the “attack on faith” (not the Muslim faith, though, surely), and those goddamn Sixties which ruined everything forever. He gets out an extremely weird cheap shot: we have to block the “increasingly voracious appetite of the unions”. Given the abysmal state of labor these days, this tangent reminds me of kicking an invalid in the teeth because they ask for seconds at gruel time, but it gets a standing ovation from the faithful. Another big applause line for the punters comes when Romney invokes the hideous shadow of a nonexistent threat: “Simply put, we must not allow America to be held hostage by the likes of Hugo Chavez.” Somewhere in a metallic cave below the streets of Caracas, Chaves shakes his armored fist and screams: “¡Maldígale, Romney! ¡Usted me ha frustrado otra vez!”
Now comes doomsday: “Because I love this country, I entered this race, and because I love this country, I am leaving it.” Unfortunately, he means the race, not the country; I was hoping he was going to move to Paris and take a run for mayor against that dirty Red queer they have now. So it’s all over for the Mittster, and maybe it’s just the drugs wearing off, but I feel strangely disappointed and annoyed. Sure, he got out some cheap shots at those forces of “radical Islam”, and yeah, I got to be part of electoral history for the first time since I helped run fellow Mormon Ev Mecham out of office, but there was no bad craziness to this, no frisson of madness, and aside from a bewildering attempt to claim credit for Barack Obama’s success, no unexpected moment when a cuckoo popped out of someone’s forehead. For this, I missed Mark Steyn and Crazy Pammy?
You owe me, Romney; you owe me a debt of lunacy. Crawl on back to Massachusetts. Maybe Ron Paul can pick up your tab…
Tell people that you caught Horowitz trying to touch you intimately, and that he expressed admiration for brown people. They’ll have his head on a pole before 5 o’clock, and your secret will still be safe…
HST is smiling somewhere. Great writing!
Be careful Mister Pierce. We are on to you. Once we find you we are going to through your ass out of the convention and then we are going to beat you up!
In fact I am looking at you right now. Be very careful.
Dude, I just told you I’m in the hotel bar. What do you want, a roadmap? Come with it, I’ll send you home without an eyeball.
Well then, Chris, what are you waiting for?
THATS IT YOU’RE TOAST!
Is Chris going to attack Leonard with that pie he keeps going on about?
be careful leonard, they’re going through your ass!
I’m slapping you right now! Slap! Slap! Slap! Take this well-deserved pounding like a man! Slap! Slappity!
Look out Chris. I hear Leonard wields some mean milk solids.
Crawl on back to Massachusetts.
Dear God, no! Mister Pierce, cruel man that you are, you spike your verbal cocktail with hemlock!
I’m not sure Leonard should be taking so many drugs..
Campaigning is hard on marraige, and particularily, hard on the sexual relationship between the candidate and his/her spouse. Mrs. Romney may find that Mitt has more time to spend in the bedroom.
So, I’ll dedicate this song to Mr. and Mrs. Romney. It’s my cover of the Who’s Squeezebox, featuring a mystery guest artist (not Christina Aguilera).
Squeezebox
Dr BLT
http://www.drblt.net/music/SqueezeBoxDemo2.mp3
Imagine the wah wah waaaah music when Chris heads over to the bar and MLP’s not there.
Imagine the wah wah waaaah music when Chris heads over to the bar and MLP’s not there.
“W-Wait a minute! This isn’t the bar! This is a filthy motel men’s room! And that’s not Mister Leonard Pierce! That’s Mark ‘Man’ Steyn! And I’m not kicking his ass! I’m — whoa hey, this feels pretty good! Rev. Haggard was right on!”
think David Horowitz is ratting me out. The little zero stood reading my e-mails over my shoulder (quite a feat, given that I’ve got a foot and a half on him) for about ten minutes before I noticed him, and in the hour or so since, I’ve been getting bad looks from my fellow conventioneers.
Resist the urge to blend into the wallpaper, they will smell the fear on you. Look ’em in the eye, engage, be aggressive, don’t be afraid to stick out; make them doubt the little Stalinist shitweasel’s judgment.
What are you, Nancy Regan?
Oh, and Chris St. James? I could kick your ass and I’m an out of shape 34 year old.
Just sayin.
Thats it Mr. Pierce. Myself, Gary Ruppert, Mark Steyn and David Horowitz are entering the hotel bar right now. We’re gonna get you son!
Look, Gary/Saul/Kevin came up with a new name.
I still stand by my assertion above.
“W-Wait a minute! This isn’t the bar! This is a filthy motel men’s room!”
Are you implying that Chrissie has a wide stance?
And James Inhofe and Tom Coburn are guarding the exit. Soon the entire C-PAC conventioneers will be on you like flies on shit.
[…] Things I Wish I Could Have Heard First Hand so I Could Have Laughed and Laughed… “Simply put, we must not allow America to be held hostage by the likes of Hugo Chavez.” […]
Heh. Indeedily doodily!
Yes, Chris, I too love delicious pie.
And James Inhofe and Tom Coburn are guarding the exit.
Is that what the kids are calling it these days?
Hey Chris. Maybe Mr. Pierce would be a little more intimidated if you told him about your leather boots and your titanium pistol and your big motorcycle and your hot girlfriend. I think you need to attend Remedial Internet Toughguy classes…
mikey
Our man is safe in the bar. Chrissy and his ilk will not dare venture to his location, because it is well known that women have from time to time, been seen in bars.
Maybe Mr. Pierce would be a little more intimidated if you told him about your leather boots and your titanium pistol and your big motorcycle and your hot girlfriend.
Good point. How can I believe in the superiority of this man if he’s all talk and no totem?
Yeah, being a proper tough guy is hard. Like Mikey says, the leather boots are mandatory. Docs, or army surplus for preference. Leather jacket is good, but here is the key thing.. Leather trousers are a definite no no. Leather trousers say “middle aged man in a gay bar” not “hard bastard”
Big motorcycles are always a bonus, but no chrome or leather tassles allowed. The cool factor of Harleys is too diluted, so you want a modern streetfighter, along the lines of a triumph speed triple.
And the trash talk… Damn, Chris.. you REALLY need help with that. The rule is “They cant make a witty retort if you knock their teeth out FIRST.” The internet is notoriously bad for allowing you to do this, so should not be considered a viable medium for trash talk.
The setting is vitally important too. Run down pubs that smell of ganja and stale beer, great. Hotel bars full of Regan-fellating wasters? Not so much.
Directions, please?
You need to start carrying a bag of cheetos and a bottle of Mountain Dew. wipe your fingers on your tie, but keep the sexy metallic chick polished. If anyone questions your bona fides, flash the chick to blinnd them, fling cheetos all around and flee whilst the other neocons scramble, or is it scrabble? for the cheetos.
Time to downsize the font on your laptop and invest in a small adhesive mirror to stick on the corner of the screen. Given that almost everyone at this place considers everyone else ‘the other’, I wouldn’t get too paranoid that they’re on to you. They’re probably frowning at your walmartgear. To quote Willie Murphy and John Koerner from a very old and excellent dirty hippie fight anthem:
Don’t let the bastards get you down
Don’t get hassled to a fra-a-a-zle.
Cause they’re all full of beans anyway don’t you kno-e-o-e-o-e-ow.
But, but, Leonard…I didn’t read nothin’ ’bout Reagan! How can Mittens quit without calling on the spirit of St. Ronnie?
I am depressed.
… oh and shake up the Mt. Do bottle and threaten to spray everyone in sight. Applied directly to the eyes it causes temporary blindness, you know.
If you actually do meet saul/chris/gary shout “BOO!” and he/it will wet his/its pants.
How’s McCain’s speech at CPAC going down? We’re not allowed to turn up the TV, so I can’t tell if there’s any booing.
Master Pierce,
What K. Ubu said and hang in there! We are hanging on your every word!
owlbear1 brought up something in the part 4 comments that has me curious:
Are there any recruiting booths at this convention? Seems like all the young patriots would be a natural draw for an army or national guard recruiter, & it could be your best (and most entertaining) safe haven if they do start to hassle you.
Recruiting booths? Nope, no poor people around, so why would you find army recruiters there?
The chickenhawks are not keen on joining the army. They don’t like mud, hard work, dying, earning under 300k, or being shouted at by big butch men.
Okay, maybe they like being shouted at by big butch men. In that case, you might find some Navy recruiters there.
From what I’ve seen (the R debates on the teevee) Ron Paul isn’t very popular with the crowds, he says stuff like “we can’t afford to invade more countries right now”
I’ll take Chris St. James over BLT any day of the week.
Chris is very amusing.
The T in BLT stands for tedious.
Mister Leonard Pierce:
It’s a sad statement on how deranged and degraded political commentary has become that, for example, comparing Clinton and Obama to traitors is no longer considered ‘bad craziness’ or the ‘frisson of madness’.
Nor, apparently, is looking for the ‘public relations benefit’ in waterboarding.
Or ‘doubling Gitmo’.
My God, what have we come to?
Having once eaten a quarter, I will vouch for the commitment of Mister Leonard Pierce when speaking of the adultery of Mitt Romney.
Leonard, since I’m sure you’re eagerly awaiting more of my feedback, I thought I’d give you a specific example of my criticism:
“Given the abysmal state of labor these days, this tangent reminds me of kicking an invalid in the teeth because they ask for seconds at gruel time…”
This is a terrible metaphor. First of all, it’s not funny. It’s not even close to funny. Second, what an absurdly over-emotional way of looking at the world! Is criticizing organized labor really like “kicking an invalid in the teeth because they ask for seconds at gruel time?” When does that happen? Who does this? And where? Finally, it’s not believable. Hearing Romney’s speech, did it really “remind” you of “kicking an invalid in the teeth?” If so, that says a ton more about you than it does Romney.
In fact, that final characteristic is true of most of the posts thus far. They all say a whole lot more about you than the lunatics you’re purportedly there to mock. I wanted S,N! LOL’s. Instead, I got “Catcher in the Rye II: Holden Caulfield goes to CPAC” (soundtrack by Green Day).
This writing is a huge disappointment. I suspect most of the commentators here who disagree with me read about as many books as Jonah Goldberg on a very serious research mission.
Derek is so right. Also, who says “knock knock” when they go to the door? And who, when asked, says their name is something it isn’t? The so-called “knock knock joke” genre makes no sense whatsoever.
Derek, I regretfully inform you that you’re just not living up to the reputation of SadlyNauts. Your posts are overly literal and devoid of the snark so beloved of this site. In fact, you’re really not persuasive as a critic/troll at all.
I am enormously disappointed in you. If you disagree with me that means that you eat cheetoes in your underwear while writing Star Trek fan fiction.
McCain, stop using my computer to post insults.
That wouldn’t be a cockslapping taking place, would it?
Derek, I think you mean well, but you’re criticisms will fall on deaf ears. Just chill out. I don’t like the writing style much either, but that’s just me. I’m not even sure what it is I dislike about it, so the only honest thing I can say is Mister Leonard Pierce can write the way he wants, especially when everyone else seems to like what they’re reading. As for the two of us, we could stop reading. I’m going to keep reading because it interests me.
One more thing, I think Chris St. James is the funniest incarnation of the troll yet.
What’s the point of a comment section if all that’s allowed is circle jerkery? Why not just go the Instapundit route?
Derek, you’re not being disallowed from commenting. Some folks disagreed with you and said so. What’s the problem?
The response hasn’t been “I disagree with you.” It’s “stop reading this and responding.” In short: liberal fascism!
Derek, you’re not being disallowed from commenting.
Yes he is. I’m going to zap all his comments out of Sadly, No! as soon as I can unless he can give me a good reason why I shouldn’t.
“What’s the point of a comment section if all that’s allowed is circle jerkery?”
Complaining about the content of a website based on your personal distaste for its hyperbolic style is the functional equivalent of going into the kitchen at a taqueria and upbraiding the cooks for adding too much cheese to your nachos.
“Stop reading instead of endlessly pissing and moaning about it” isn’t circle jerkery or “liberal fascism”, it’s common sense: “Doctor, it hurts when I do this…”
Derek, you’re about as insightful as a junior high English teacher complaining about the grammar in a Richard Pryor routine. You’re missing the f’ing point. Run along, now; there’s a good boy. Don’t whine all over mama’s funny.
I criticize the writing as juvenile and you respond by… comparing me to an English teacher who doesn’t get it. Good work. Also, five bonus points for using a semi-colon; shows how smart you are!
I believe I’m ignorant of the irony here. I must be a juvenile idiot. I guess I’ll go back to chortling at the big poopie I just made.
I suspect most of the commentators here who disagree with me read about as many books as Jonah Goldberg on a very serious research mission.
Which would be, let’s see, every single commentator here. Way to insult everyone who reads your number-one super-favourite blog!
But of course, you’d never use an ad hominem.
Derek goes to ♂ to get more candy bars; the rest go to ♃ to get more stupider.
Hoosier X said,
February 7, 2008 at 23:25
“I’ll take Chris St. James over BLT any day of the week.
Chris is very amusing.
The T in BLT stands for tedious.”
That’s the closest thing to a compliment that I’ve received here in a long time, so I thank you from the bottom of my heart.
Some will say that you’re to nice to this recovering troll, but don’t listen to them.
I appreciate your kind heart, and eventually, when others here, like kiki, see the rewards of your kindness, they too will want to show the same kindness towards me.
Looks like Mitt was chatting with Mark Steyn before he made his speech: “Europe is facing a demographic disaster. That is the inevitable product of weakened faith in the Creator, failed families, disrespect for the sanctity of human life and eroded morality.”
I haven’t read any of today’s posts yet, but before I start, I just wanted to let you know that I heard about Romney dropping out on my drive home and all I could think about was how exciting the Leonard Pierce-sclusive was going to be. Now, off I go to partake in the madness. It’s been said before, but I must repeat it: Mr. Pierce, you are a true hero to traverse this minefield of crazy.
I appreciate your kind heart, and eventually, when others here, like kiki, see the rewards of your kindness, they too will want to show the same kindness towards me.
Oh My Stars! If I didn’t know better, I’d swear I was listening to Sammy Davis, Jr. How wonderful.
I must congratulate Derek on making me second guess whether he’s a concern troll or not. On the one hand, he’s got all the markings in my Audubon Troll Field Guide. On the other, he keeps posting comments with different words in them, which defies Troll Rule #1: Thou Shalt Copy and Paste.
Or, shorter me: Hi, Derek! Hush now.
Don’t whine all over mama’s funny.
Am I the only one snorting Lagavulin out my nose over this one?
Still too early in the day for me, SM. Another hour and a half to go before I take a Bowmore Break.
Mr. Pierce, watch out! Chris St. James is crushing your head!!
Time’s just about up, Smut Clyde. Slainte!
Skål!
Derek: “Also, five bonus points for using a semi-colon; shows how smart you are!”
Trite, but it can be improved. Try this, Derek:
“Also, five bonus points for using a semi-colon;;;;;;;;;; shows how smart you are!”
That’ll show them!
In architectural terms, that is known as a semi-colonnade.
Still no love for Alan Keyes, I guess.