tweety swingsYou know, watching Chris Matthews is like watching an inebriated friend and trying to figure out if he’s too drunk to drive home, mentally weighing whether or not you should get into the evil tug-of-war that can be the separation of a drunk and his car keys. (”I’m fine!”, “No, you’re not fine, you’re drunk. You’ll get yourself killed or someone else, and I’m not coming to bail you out of jail.”, “Godammit, fuck you, gimme back my keysshhh!”)

You watch your friend closely after a certain number of beers, checking for signs of uncertainty in the gait, wobbliness, or bleariness. It’s so hard to tell with this guy. One minute he’s talking sense and you think, “Oh, he’s alright.” But then you turn your back for a moment and when you look again, he’s got his pants around his ankles and he’s trying to cop a feel off the waitress.

For example, here’s a clip from when Matthews was interviewing John Soltz of VoteVets and Dante Zappala of Gold Star Families Speak Out. If I didn’t know any better, I could have sworn that Matthews had read my Fall Fascism Week essay.

From the transcript:

MATTHEWS: Dante, you lost your brother.

Let me ask you about this sales pitch we’re watching this week. It really is a dog-and-pony show, very elaborate hearings. We’re seeing a rollout of the new sales pitch. We’re seeing the president coming on television Thursday night, all in coordination with the marking of 9/11, very impressive creation of an attitude.

Is it working with you? (emphasis mine)

I practically jumped out of my chair and hollered when he said that. Dawn breaks on Marblehead! Halle-fuckin’-luia!! Chris Matthews sees that Petraeus Report for the PR circle-jerk that it is, praise Jeebus. Now maybe the rest of the gormless clods of the punditocracy will start sniffing their cups of Kool-Aid before they chug it down and perhaps even decline to imbibe it all.

But then on Wednesday, when faced with Laura Ingraham, who is possibly the slimiest and most meretricious of the Mad Cows who cheerlead the Right Wing and their war (it’s a dead heat between her and Melanie Morgan for who can be the most shrill, vapid, and sleazy), Matthews practically throws out his back trying to reach through the camera and unhook her bra strap:

Matthews: “Can I sing your praises? I’ll get in trouble for this, but you’re great looking, obviously. You’re one of the God’s gifts to men in this country, but also, you’re a hell of a writer, your books always do well, your radio show — I just looked at the numbers, you are up there, one of the top most listened to radio shows. I think you’re great, especially when you have me on, you’re fabulous Laura Ingraham, you’re great…”

That’s right, Laura Fucking Ingraham, the woman who urged her audience of radio goons to shut down the Voter Fraud Hotline on Election Day 2006, the woman who spent six days in Iraq and claimed that none of the journalists who’ve been risking their lives over there every day for years were as brave and dedicated as she was in getting “the real story” out of Iraq. Yes, that Laura Ingraham, one of the top spokesmorons for the bottom-feeding 25% of Americans who see no problem with marching an endless parade of US soldiers into the Iraq War meat-grinder.

Sure, she’s a disgusting piece of propagandizing filth, but apparently all Matthews sees is a bleach job and a pair of boobies and he’s ready to chuck everything and climb into her lap. No matter that she sees people like his other guests, Mr. Soltz and Mr. Zappala as traitors to our country who should be summarily executed for treason, Chris thinks she’s pretty, and therefore she is Good. And Serious. And “God’s gift to the men of this country”.

For god’s sake, Tweety, stop thinking with your dick and report the news, okay?

Goddamn.

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