ANNOUNCER: Up first in our amateur competition, he was born and raised in Chocolate City, used to be a member of the press but now he’s here to press your funny bone! Harlem, put your hands together for Freddie High-Hat!
(tentative applause abruptly cut short by the appearance of a middle-aged white man dressed like Flava Flav circa 1990)
Whassup y’all, how’s everybody doin’ tonight?
Check it, before I got into comedy, I had a lot of crazy jobs, like this one time I was editorial page editor for the Washington Post, right? And I learned a lot there, like the difference between nostalgia liberals… and accountability liberals. (knowing grin) They’re a lot alike, but it’s the little differences, like how they prioritize.
See, nostalgia liberals got priorities like community, social cohesion, and preservation of New Deal and Great Society programs, but accountability liberals be puttin’ stock in market forces and individual empowerment, know what I’m sayin’?
Nostalgia liberals be all, we gotta save Social Security! Accountability liberals is like, naw, we gotta means-test that shit. Otherwise Gramma gon’ be all (pantomimes eating out of a can) mmm, that’s some good Friskies!
(audience grows restless)
An accountability liberal will see your school and say damn, that school’s buggin’. (feigning surprise) Wha- what’s this in my pocket? Looks like… yo, I got mad vouchers! (pantomimes “making it rain”) A nostalgia liberal though, he be like, you just gon’ have to use the atlas from like the eighties, lil’ homey. Heh, shorty’s lookin’ at a map of the Soviet Union like, what’s “Usser?” I ain’t never heard a no “Usser!” Sorry, kid, maybe if we could get some merit pay up in here, but nostalgia liberals be trippin’.
Hold up, hold up. Y’ever see a nostalgia liberal drive? Doo dee doo, hi Mr. Lexus, (waves) no no, you go ahead Mr. Camry, dum dee dum. Then a accountability liberal flies by, (makes “zoom” sound/hand gesture) HOT lane, beyotch!
(booing reaches crescendo, Freddie is “swept” off stage by a hobo clown who winks at the camera, gives a thumbs-up, and reveals himself to be Dan Froomkin)
ANNOUNCER: Freddie High-Hat, ladies and gentlemen, used to get scoops, now he’s Scoop Jackson. Alright, up next, these fine sisters have been singing together since…
I maintain that he looks like Michael Scott (with a little Ryan thrown in) but honestly, I can’t tell those people apart
Former Republican congressman and libertarian hero Bob Barr takes aim at gun control advocates:
Of course, the media often reports on violent crime, which aides anti-gun politicians in their never-ending crusade against firearm rights. After all, bad and salacious news sells. The facts, however, tell another story. According to a seminal study published in the mid-1990s by Gary Kleck and Marc Gertz, firearms are used in self-defense about 2.5 million times each year in this country.
Unfortunately, news stories that feature law-biding citizens using firearms to fend off attackers often either go unreported or wind up buried in the back pages of newspapers.
Then, in a spectacular display of “who ya gonna believe, me or your lyin’ eyes?” he goes on to state a blatant untruth about one such incident:
The controversy over who shot first, Greedo or Han Solo, in ‘Episode IV,’ what I did was try to clean up the confusion, but obviously it upset people because they wanted Solo [who seemed to be the one who shot first in the original] to be a cold-blooded killer, but he actually isn’t. It had been done in all close-ups and it was confusing about who did what to whom. I put a little wider shot in there that made it clear that Greedo is the one who shot first, but everyone wanted to think that Han shot first, because they wanted to think that he actually just gunned him down.
Imagine the contempt he must have for his audience to be so brazenly disingenu… hold on, I think I got my notes mixed up.
Division: Editorial Location: Washington, D.C. Job Type: Full Time Career Level: Entry Level Education: Bachelor’s Degree Category: Administrative and Support Services Position: Upright with Arched Back
Job Description : The Washington Post has an immediate opening for an editorial aide to influential columnist and human-sheep hybrid Richard Cohen. This position is perfect for an organized self-starter who derives satisfaction from handling multiple tasks, working independently on long-term projects, and making creepy old pervs think they’ve got a chance. The successful candidate will be a critical thinker, sophisticated reader and will have excellent writing, computer and communication skills, and can run around a desk fast enough to evade a pursuer but not so fast that he’ll give up the chase.
We are looking for an assistant who is college-educated, communicates effectively, brings energy and initiative to their work, and looks good in black. Web-savvy applicants preferred, but the main thing is, you’ve got to be able to give Cohen an erection, because the only other way he can achieve arousal is through irresponsible warmongering, and we’ve got a whole stable of former Bush administration hacks to take care of that.
This is the last time I’ll talk about Komen, pinky-swear. It’s just so nice to not lose for once, plus I’m still bummed I never got to use the post title “Ayes Up Here.”
The KFC* Backle-Down Planned-wich
2 breaded chicken breasts
1 tbsp. mayonnaise, salted
3 strips bacon, twisted into “awareness ribbon” shapes
1/3 cup shredded mozzarella
1/4 cup crushed tortilla chips
Deep-fry chicken breasts. Cook bacon in skillet. Mix egg with salted mayonnaise, then scramble the living hell out of it.
Top egg/mayo mixture with shredded mozzarella and crushed tortilla chips, because Catholicism! Add bacon and place between chicken breasts. Offer to guests, then retract offer, then, when they raise a stink, give it back. Shoo pets out of room; guests might go a little crazy with the victory laps.
Side note: When the real word’s “cumin,” a “Komen” joke in a fake recipe is defused somewhat, I’ve found.
Now, I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking “that’s the most disgusting sandwich I’ve ever heard of, and it sounds incredibly unhealthy to boot.” Well, first off, It should be noted that mine’s more nutritious than the actual thing. Second, there’s no need to fear the damage it might do to your heart and other organs; simply read this Kathleen Parker column after eating, and voilà! That’s onomatopoeia, not French.
Two of the top news stories this week have revolved around reproductive rights, though both raise far more troubling issues than a woman’s right to contraception or abortion.
See? That opening line alone’s enough to make me voilà my guts out.
Or maybe not, we’ll see. It’s not like we weren’t going to have to go through this rigamarole again next year anyway, especially with people like this around and my proposed “Yeah, but C’mon, Have You Listened to these Assholes?” amendment to the Bill of Rights seemingly stalled in congress. Do-nothings!
The abortion giant thinks it is above the law even though it is under criminal investigation for many, many good reasons — it has defrauded Medicaid to the tune of millions of dollars and has been caught on tape telling 13- and 14-year-olds how to get abortions after being impregnated by men in their 30s and telling pimps how to get secret abortions for young girls who are being used for sex trafficking.
I like how she manages to perpetuate the O’Keefe garbage (she does have a BS in psychology, after all) and imply that there’s something monstrous about helping a barely-pubescent girl terminate a pregancy that resulted from one of those oh-so-common totally consensual relationships thirtysomething men are always getting into with seventh-graders. Ah, those May-ephebophile romances.
And not for nothing—I know it’s considered a modern classic, but I found The Abortion Giant to be maudlin and manipulative, Vin Diesel’s surprisingly tender voicework aside.
She lies, Komen, better hide your… okay, that one’s a stretch.
The Washington Post blows strikes a blow for equality. I mean hey, they’re publishing garbage like this about men now, that’s progress, right?
For most of us, I suspect, the answer would have been different than Santorum’s from the start. If we had a child with a typically fatal genetic disorder, we would forgo the 99 Iowa counties’ worth of Pizza Ranches and the incessant blur of town-hall meetings, and stay home.
Ruth Marcus’s place is in the kitchen. Not because she’s a woman, because that’s the room which affords the most opportunities for her laptop to get shorted out before she can hit “save.”
Your mission, should you choose to accept it: humorously analogize something that itself sounds like a humorous analogy. Sure, it’s easy to say “Newt Gingrich talking about family values is like Abe Foxman writing about the Muslim Brotherhood,” but what do you do when Abe Foxman writes about the Muslim Brotherhood? Well, hotshot? What. Do. You. Do.
Entries will be judged by, uh, criteria. Winner gets to be the target of a boycott over something anodyne they said about the financial sector.
Eerie, right? A simple rule of thumb for telling them apart: one is a soulless bloodsucker whose nebbishy exterior belies his mission to spread evil, pestilence, and death; the other one’s Michael Gerson, and he’s also pretty terrible.
Here’s the newest volley from Radio RWaPo (“It’s not hate speech when white men wearing neckties say it”), and just in time! No use fomenting resentment and distrust among the populace after the election.
Serving the poor and healing the sick are regarded as secular pursuits — a determination that would have surprised Christianity’s founder.
See, this is why Gerson’s on the op-ed page and the rest of you schmucks are slaving away in the “On Faith” section. A lesser propagandist would’ve claimed explicitly that Jesus invented altruism and that non-Christians can be charitable only in the sense that dogs can stand on their hind legs, but Gerson knows how to imply it.
Hmm. Blockquoting isn’t terribly satisfying for some reason, maybe because it ignores Gerson’s long history in Washington power circles, and that context seems relevant. I’ve got a better idea, lemme try something:
“Both radicalism and maliciousness are at work in Obama’s decision — an edict delivered with a sneer,” wrote the former chief speechwriter for George W. Bush.
Hey, whatcha havin’ for breakfast? Ooh, an omelette, sounds delish. I’ve heard that making one of those requires certain sacrifices that could be considered controversial, so count yourself lucky that chickens haven’t established a religious organization that wields political sway out of accordance with its role in a pluralistic society, else you’d have to settle for a bowl of Chex.
Looks like Lee “The Real Cyberbullying Victim” Siegel, beloved by sockpuppets of Lee Siegel everywhere, has decided to be our son of a bitch this cycle. NOBODY DISAGREE WITH HIM IN COMMENTS, dude turns on a dime.
I’m not sure how I feel about the Kool Kidz Kharacter Assassin Klub training their Bic blowguns on the Republican for once. I guess it’s a nice change of pace, but I’d like to think we can beat the Romplicant without the beltway hierarchy enforcers softening him up with their usual multi-pronged assault of note-passing and furtive whispers. Plus I worry about sustainability—this bunch tends toward knee-jerk contrarianism, and after a few more months of tittering behind See-Creepio’s back about how totes uncool he is, I can easily see Maureen Dowd developing a crush on him purely for backlash’s sake, and then we’d be right back in Obambiville.
Thank God Perry flamed out. Alpha-jock fauxthenticity rolls off that guy in waves; 2012 would’ve been a steady stream of editorials that boil down to “Do you like me? Check Y/N”
sent from my iHatethesepeople
To see Romney, in his Gap jeans, laughing awkwardly at his own jokes and making patently disingenuous claims, brings back all those bad memories of 2000: “Love Story.” Inventing the Internet. Earth tones. Three-button suits. The alpha male in cowboy boots. The iced-tea defense. The Buddhist temple. The sighing during the debate.
OH MY GOD HE’S STILL BITCHING ABOUT WHAT A LOSER GORE IS. I knew Milbank was an asshole, but I didn’t realize this level of petty spite was even possible. And I’m drawing a blank on half those memes, should I know what the hell the “iced-tea defense” is? Or is that the sort of detail you’d forget if you had better things to do than sit around stewing for 11+ years about how totally lame it was that your boss made you ride the same bus with that gaywad? This guy’s “reporter’s notebook” must be a Trapper Keeper.
I’ve got plenty to say about this but can’t at the moment, so while I’m waiting for everyone else to leave the room, I’ll pass to Jon Soltz:
There are no words to express my disgust at the video making the rounds today, of U.S. Marines apparently urinating on the dead bodies of the Taliban. As an Iraq War veteran who works with Iraq and Afghanistan veterans every day, I can truthfully say that the Marines in the video have undermined everything that I and those who served with me tried to do.
Hey everybody, Meryl Streep’s portrayal of Margaret Thatcher has a column at the Washington Post now.
The left blogosphere, straining to gain the grateful acknowledgment of the White House, remind one of school boys who have just learned a naughty word. They chatter among themselves, whispering it back and forth, each time convinced they are more clever than the previous utterance. In this case the naughty word is “profit.” Ooh, the Bain prospectus uses “profit.”Did you hear Mitt Romney laugh when he said the business was all about “profit”! But like many an errant school boy, they neither understand what they are saying nor are the first to discover the word.
It’s all for you, libtard!
Oh, it’s actually Jennifer Rubin, my mistake. Didn’t see the little banner up top there. I wonder why the caricaturist drew her with an orange rind in her mouth.
I guess conservative pundits’re still going the “preposterously stilted” stylistic route, huh? Using “one” as a pronoun sans irony and so forth? Uh, okay. I mean, I imagine there are more coveted demographics than “foppish dandy 25-54,” but hey, don’t let me tell you who to pander to. To whom one must pander?
Anyway, Jen, since you’ve got your finger on the pulse of the electorate—truly, if there’s one issue that unites us as a nation it’s our lack of patience for errant schoolboys—what would you say is the current state of Americans’ gettingitness?
They get it, even if the media elite doesn’t.
Lefty bloggers are the media elite, see, I know because a paid Washington Post op-ed contributor told me. So hey, fortysomething civics nerd with a fifth-floor walk-up and some nervous energy left over once you’ve cleared your docket of freelance copyediting assignments, next time you’re in the Hamptons hobnobbing with the glitterati, knock it off with the chattering and straining to gain grateful acknowledgment and shit. Such displays remind one of AC/DC’s lead guitarist.
giggity giggity goo