And speaking of things that are ubiquitous and as dumb as houseplants, today I pulled the plug in the sink and all the water ran out. That must mean Ace at Ace of Spades is saying something psychotically stupid.
This time, though, his overly excitable italics caught Sully’s attention:
The rant in question?
Not that I’m saying homosexuality is incompatible with masculinity, of course. Consenting biweekly to having one’s duodenum battered with the manic hydraulic fury of a tricked-out V-12 jackhammer manned by an epileptic Con-Ed worker with an ancestral oath of vengeance against asphalt would, I think, tend to butch one up, at least as regards one’s pain threshold.
Okay, putting aside the creepy amount of detail with which Ace has clearly imagined all this, and just for a moment, putting aside that this is Glenn Greenwald he’s talking about, a man whose cufflinks are more talented and intelligent than Ace will ever be in his wildest dreams, just ignoring all of that, this is the same appalingly written spew he leveled at Alex from Wonkette three months ago. Pretty much word for word.
“You want dudes to shank you up your manpooters, fine. But you don’t have to be a 12 year old girl about it, do you? Quite frankly, I’d imagine that frequently getting dorked up the drop-pipe would, due to the pain and general unpleasantness of the experience, tend to instill one with a certain amount of quiet, manfully steely resolve, like a toughened soldier waving off anaesthesia even though he’s got a bit chunk of shrapnel in his gut, only it’s even worse than that, because it turns out that shrapnel is really a great big cock shredding his duodenum with the quavering manic intensity of a palsied ConEd worker with a tricked-out V8 jackhammer and and an ancestral vow of vengeance against ashphalt.”
Ace, Ace, Ace…food that tasted wretched going down assuredly does not improve in flavor when it comes back up.
So endeth the lesson.