Late Night: Monster Grandmas Destroy Western Civilization!!!

It’s been a depressing week, with the debate raging in DC over whether we should destroy the economy amid bitter political wrangling, or if we should drop it into the shitter in a spirit of heartwarming bipartisan compromise.

But there is some good and genuinely excellent news! Starting at midnight EST, the first official same-sex marriages will take place in New York. From the perspective of common decency and common sense, I can’t believe NY didn’t do this years ago. From the perspective of our state being half-choked with wingnuts just as crazy as they are anywhere else, I’m astonished it’s happening at all. But I’ll for once be optimistic and see my state not as half-lunatic, but as just slightly more than half-civilized.*

There seem to be several candidates for the first couple to be officially knotted, such as this Jewish pair from Long Island. And then there are these Western New York grandmas, who look just lovely together, and have such high hopes about the future:

Over time, this will become federal law. We know we will someday be long gone, and no one will remember who were are or what we did. But this law will be on the books. And someday, someone will fall in love, and want to get married, and they’ll go to City Hall, and no one will be standing there with ugly, venomous signs with so called “religious” messages of hate. No one will care. They’ll just be another loving couple, who want to love and care for each other for the rest of their natural lives.

Hear hear, and congratulations!

But not everyone is happy. The breathless hysterical squawking emanating from NRO is icing on the gay wedding cake, for those who enjoy dim-bulb bigot caterwauling:

New York has struck a great blow, in the name of a false “right,” against real freedom. Same-sex marriage is inseparable from authoritarianism, as we will see when New York’s Christians, Jews, and Muslims lose the religious freedom to act on the truth about marriage as they know it.

Ah, quitcherbitchin. You still have your right to carry your ugly, venomous signs! Chin up!

For the rest of us, lift a glass, throw some rice, and have some cake.

*Polling data shows more than half of New Yorkers support same sex marriage, but it did only squeak through the legislature.

Late Night: Well, Son, I Say, I Do Declare, Shut the HECK Up

There are many rooms in the House of Wingnut Prose. Each is squalid and awful, yet each possesses its distinct redolence, from the billowy fumes of the Den of Goldbergian Flatulence, to the bitter stench of the Chamber of Malkinesque Resentment.

And then we have the Hall of Incompetent Bombast, in whose dark depths we have been known to spelunk — and where we find ourselves yet once more, owing to the sublimely ridiculous Allen West’s recent dingaling screed on the subject of Debbie Wasserman-Schultz’s failure to properly respect his Mighty Sword of Justice.

Our friend Steve M. has noted the odd pomposity of West’s diction in his dowdy jeremiad, describing it as “wannabe-Shakespearean.” I’m not sure that’s right, though. It’s shopworn Buckley-striving, combined with even sillier undigested source material. Allow me to illustrate. Here are a set of Foghorn Leghorn quotes, juxtaposed with quotes from West’s email.

You are the most vile, unprofessional ,and despicable member of the US House of Representatives.

This is a dog, not a chicken. Chicken’s don’t look like dogs. Who told you this was a chicken, son? Nice boy, but doesn’t listen to a thing you say. You got a bum steer, son. I’m a chicken, not a schnook. You’re wrong, son.

If you have something to say to me, stop being a coward and say it to my face, otherwise, shut the heck up. Focus on your own congressional district!

Nice girl, but about as sharp as a sack of wet mice.

You have proven repeatedly that you are not a Lady, therefore, shall not be afforded due respect from me!

Let me guess, dearie. You’re looking for a husband.

Steve opines, “Maybe keeping it stylized and pseudo-highfalutin (Herman Cain does this, too) makes his rage seem ‘safe.'” Sure. Though there is also a pretty clear terror on the part of an idiot not to look stupid.

Late Night: The Feel-Aggrieved Whine of the Summer!

The Lame-Stream Media has of course been waging an all-out attempt to discredit Sarah Palin and make her look like a vicious dingaling, employing underhanded tactics such as showing footage of her talking. The most recent instance of anti-Palin LSM venom would be the attempt on the part of the far-left Atlantic to prove that nobody wants to see her new smash-hit hagio-pic, The Uncoherent.

Much to the chagrin of smart-alecky bloggers such as “Mr. T” Bogg, however, Crack Investigators from Andrew Breitbart’s Big Stupid Hollywood are on the case, proving that the Atlantic‘s Conor Friedersdorf is not only not a Conservative as he claims, but a great big lying Leninist, because one of them went to the theater the next day and found out that AS A MATTER OF TRUE FACT, six tickets were sold for the midnight showing that Freidersdorf attended, and this makes the film a ginormous smash, even if none of the other five people aside from Friedersdorf either (a) bought the thickets intending to see the movie, or (b) showed up. Big win for the Conservative Masses!

Besides, the Crack Big Stupid Hollywood Investigator went back for a discount morning showing the next day, and found out — wait for it — that the theater was one third full, and even though the audience was composed of old people too lazy to get a job, not once did they get up on their Medicare-scooters to go pee.

I can tell you that at 10:45 this morning, the theatre was about 1/3 full and the audience sat riveted. I stood on the side and watched the audience more than I watched the film. They skewed a but older, I’d say 47-ish was the average age. But remember that this was at 10:45 in the morning on a work day. Most good conservatives are working at that time and aren’t able to go catch a flick. Not one of them looked at their watch. Not one left to use the restroom.

Yecch. One only hopes that Rich Lowry were not there, as then the poor sods who had to sop up the urine-y cushions would have had even viler substances to cleanse.

In other exciting news of how America Loves Sarah! — I shit you not

It may not be “Harry Potter,” but another film featuring a bespectacled protagonist is racking up strong pre-sales before its national roll-out this weekend.

“The Undefeated,” a glowing look at failed vice-presidential candidate and former Alaska Governor Sarah Palin has already sold out a show in Grapevine, Texas (population 46,000), according to the distributor Cinedigm.

Crystal meth’s a hell of a drug, I suppose.

Late Night: And Then Cantor Said, “Actually, I’m a Broom”

I would not say that Our National Discourse has degraded to the level of Springer/Lake. Hell, Springer/Lake references are already what, 20 years old?

But is there any real difference between a classic Springer episode, or, like, Wrestlemania, and the Debt Wrestlemania?


We have not wanted for spectacle in our long blighted descent into banal madness.

We have however wanted for humanity.

I turn this post over to an Irishman, the Mighty Stef. Who sings the only song that matters in this low, dishonest millennium.


Late Night: Where O Where Has Her Little Mind Gone?

In a post wherein Ann Althouse squawks she is not at all interested in our “Eli” — apart from, one supposes, this particular post, wherein she squawks about our “Eli” — Althouse intriguingly declares:

People who are immersed in politics ought to take a good look at their own minds.

Whatever else you can say about Althouse, she at least cannot be faulted for a failure to follow her own advice. All the evidence shows that Althouse has been long separated from her mind; if she originally removed it in order to give it a proper gawking, that is a perfectly laudable motive. And let us be charitable! Perhaps there is a perfectly sound reason that as soon as her mind departed her skull it promptly escaped, never to be heard from again; and very likely all she had on hand to fill the resultant cranial void was Franzia and guano.

That would be the kindest explanation for this emanation:

I have no interest in these hysterical little men who obsess about whether their “base” is getting served or stiffed.

(Rolls eyes.) Althouse is watching consonants whirling through onion rings, yet once more. She’s got a dirty mind, don’t she, Yossarian? The dirtiest. Maybe she should advertise for her lost mind on Craigslist to see if she can find anyone who’s recently seen it so she get it back. Maybe, like, a street vendor on St. Mark’s has it. You never know. (See vid.)

But this sort of instability is widespread. There are people out there like Michele Bachmann, who is having all sorts of trouble because of her associations with known perverts with bizarre sexual obsessions. It’s just sad to see and one prays she gets the help she needs, or even better, the consequences she deserves.

Late Night: Our Debauched Nation & The Soft Sexual Option

Over at that cesspit of morality, Townhall, Armstrong “Integrity” Williams identifies a Desperate National Crisis.

These are questionable times in our country’s heralded history. The current Congress remains grid locked on nearly every issue of the day, unable to move even basic legislation regarding public safety, transportation, even the Post Office. Meanwhile, a president elected in a modern-day landslide, who vowed to embark on a new era of governing, could go down in history as one who promised so much yet delivered so little.

Hey, wow, that’s actually kind of true. It’s not good. Williams appears innocent of comprehension of the definition of “heralded,” and “grid locked” is a solecism on the order of “dumb assed.” But as far as the content goes — it’s kinda true!  And I found this at Townhall!

Astounding… almost frightening… an entire paragraph expressing something resembling “true” appearing at Townhall.  This is a sign. A portent! Surely some revelation is at hand!

But reading on, nah, pass the Jurgens; as Homer Simpson once famously declared, “we’re gettin’ takeout and doin’ it twice!” Lamentably, it is only the Second Cumming that has come to hand.

At a time when the President could stand up and rightly (and righteously) call out the abominable behaviors of our fellow countrymen, silence is his only response. At this time, we need a president willing to decry the injustices perpetrated on the innocent. We need a president who can set a new tone both inside and out of Washington – one of simple morality.

Don’t for a minute suppose that Williams is upset about anything to do with “injustices perpetrated on the innocent” as to do with, like, preposterous and devastating funding cuts. No. He means bad fucking.

Begin with the countless episodes of infidelity throughout elected office today. Look at the near-criminal acts of Sens. John Ensign or David Vitter. Or how about Sen. Larry Craig and his “wide stance” defense? A former candidate for president fathers a child and uses campaign funds as hush money. A sitting governor of the largest state in the union fathers a child, but only allows it to go public once he leaves office. I’m just getting started on this motley crew….

Take for example disgraced former Rep. Anthony Weiner. A bald-faced liar, Weiner stalled and obfuscated for weeks to try and outlast those numerous voices calling for his resignation….

To hold reign over the bully pulpit and not use it to cry out against even basic injustices is to neglect a key mission of the one who holds the Office of the President. He can do better. We sound the clarion call on the question of good moral judgment.

“To hold reign over the bully pulpit” is wonderfully incompetent.

But it’s the overall sentiment that’s entertaining. My favorite historian, Joe Lee, has a line about how the Catholic Church and powerful politicians  in 1920’s Ireland chose to become hysterical about sexual propriety because the alternative was dealing with dangerous and intractable problems of political violence — much less dealing forthrightly with anything to do with the economy, emigration, or anything material, frankly. He called this “choosing the soft sexual option.”

We’re fucking drowning in the soft sexual option right about now.

Late Night: Al Gore Didn’t Lose. Everyone Did.

Walter Russell Mead has delivered himself of yet another wet shart of vacuous attempted character assassination of Al Gore. He’s up to three installments of this garbage now and shows no sign of stopping — though he has yet to make use of anything resembling verifiable fact to support his “case.” Like a wedding cake topped with elegant wax figurines but whose primary ingredient is manure, this “case” amounts to nothing more than bog-standard Internet concern trollery decorated with foppish, psuedo-relevant “learned references.”

Mead is very much engaged in concern trolling. In his absurd opening salvo he crocodile snivels:

The plunge from the brink of victory to the pit of defeat must be as unpleasant as it is familiar to the winner of the 2000 popular vote; in his latest essay in Rolling Stone he gives his own best analysis of why he keeps losing.  Few American politicians could write an essay this eloquent or this clear.  Few people in the world can command this kind of attention for their thoughts.  Even so, the results of all this talent and effort are exactly the opposite of what the former vice president would wish; the essay illuminates his shortcomings more than his strengths and makes crystal clear that if global climate policy is going to change, then Al Gore must get out of the way.

Which is rottenly disingenuous. Mead hardly gives a shit about the “global green movement” succeeding. How could he? He doesn’t believe the science, and regularly regurgitates inane and dishonest canards about the IPCC (as he did with the phony Himalayan glacier “scandal”). Mead doesn’t want “global climate policy to change” — he likes it the way it is, ineffective. And he wants Al Gore to get out of the way, because he doesn’t like Al Gore.

But he can’t even be honest about hating Gore, which is pretty scummy, frankly. You’d have to be a real shit to compose a paragraph like this: (more…)

Late Night: Legalizing Gay Marriage in New York Dooms Gay Marriage in New York

The legalization of gay marriage in New York has inevitably doomed gay marriage in New York and is a devastating defeat for liberal gay rights activists.

If you failed to grasp this truth through intuitive ratiocination that is because you lack the clear-eyed perspicacity and flashing insight displayed by Townhall columnists. Townhall has quite an impressive stable of columnists. You can tell by how fast the the horseshit piles up to their fetlocks.

Jeff Jacoby explains how the landmark 1967 Loving v. Virginia decision that ended restrictions on interracial marriage is a key precedent for why gay marriage is bigotry and is legally doomed: “The old laws banning interracial marriage had a long run but they eventually collapsed. The new laws in New York and other states authorizing same-sex marriage may be destined for a long run as well, but I suspect they too will eventually collapse.” That’s because gay couples can’t have kids. The gay couples I know who are pretty good parents are Fig Newtons of my imagination, clearly. Also they are probably racists.

Terry Jeffrey informs us that that the New York law is rank anti-Catholic bigotry and will end up with something like the Inquisition, except this time it will be the gays burning the Catholics. Because they are flaming. And this is after all the nice things the Church has done for gays. Ingrates. Anyway, this is awful. Why, one day we may even be treated to the spectacle of a homosexual Roman Catholic bishop. Of all things!

Frank Turek tells us that the gays got him fired at Cisco.

So you see, gay marriage is doomed because the gays are just as bad as racists and hate Jesus and also they can get you fired from your corporate gig if you step out of line.

Obviously. The things you learn, reading Townhall.

Late Night: Gay Comes for the Archbishop

I grew up Irish Catholic in NYC, Northeast Queens, in the 1970s.

Archie Bunker wasn’t Irish Catholic, but I never saw All in the Family as a sitcom, but more like a documentary.

I’m not ashamed of my hometown: you grow up working class, and you understand working, and class, and if you can keep your eyes open, that’s a gift. But I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that that world was bound together by bigotry.

My maternal grandfather was a stone racist… and when my great uncle died we found in his apartment a cache of powdered food, and a shotgun — plus a trove of John Birch Society pamphlets and phonograph records.  The crazy sonofabitch was convinced that one dark day the Darkies were going to march up Northern Boulevard and steal his toaster or some shit like that and he wanted to be prepared.

My mom was smart and thoughtful, and even though she tried to get out of that world as best she could, that wasn’t so easy in her day and age. Because that world was hostile to women who aspired to be anything besides wives and mothers. In the end the best she could do for her kids was to tell them that it was wrong to hate black people — and not just wrong, but, well, déclassé. Intelligent people, people who were not grotesque fools, would have no place in the new world that was burgeoning.

You want to get ahead, she taught me, you can’t be a racist.

And she was right. And prescient. But there’s a price for everything. One day we had a barbecue, and her dad, my grandpa, was there, and my crazy great uncle, and my mom said something, and suddenly everything got tense, and my grandpa said “nigger,” and I was maybe eight, and I piped up and said, “grandpa, that’s a bad word.”

And he looked right at my mother and asked, “I hope your boy isn’t a faggot.”

Faggot was in that world the worst thing you could ever call someone. Because if the harsh outside world was populated by Outsiders who wanted nothing less than your toaster, or some shit, or the women you never really had anyway, the faggots could be anywhere. Or anyone. Even you….

I was straight, as a kid. Still am as a grownup. Have a wife, kids of my own. But I got called faggot a lot, growing up. Got beat up twice, other kids yelling “faggot, faggot,” as they hit me. In my dreams I still burn with fear and rage. And I had it better than so many others.

What I mean to say, is that all forms of bigotry, sexism, racism, homophobia, and even hatred of the working class — I can drop or put on my Queens accent easily — are all Hydra heads of the same beast.

What beast? Well, here is the Archbishop of New York. For me, always an ancient foe. And what does he have to say about gay marriage in New York? This.

It’s very discouraging because the opposition is very well oiled, very well financed. They have all the elites behind them, whether it be the TV talk shows or radio or newspaper columnists. It’s a real David and Goliath battle.

They also claim to speak for the overwhelming majority of people, but they wouldn’t accept my invitation: perhaps to go to Staten Island and visit some backyard barbecues and sense what the people really believe.

I pray my mother’s ghost shames even them.

Late Night: Gay Albanee

So my beloved home state, New York, looks poised to become the 6th state to allow gays to marry. Which is perfectly shocking. I mean, whoever would have thought we’d be less gay than frickin’ Iowa?

But anyhow, hey, it’s a win! To be sure, it’s not a done deal yet, and the legislation will contain a number of silly “exemptions” insisted upon by religious wingnuts. Ostensibly these exemptions are necessary to defend against the hideous specter of state troopers compelling at gunpoint the plain people of Candor to rent out their Knights of Columbus hall for Adam and Steve’s big gay reception. First they got the right to marry, then they came for our Geneee Cream Ale kegs and green bean supreme…. But really the “exemptions” are necessary to provide the Catholic Church, which has run out of  spurious arguments sufficient to justify its bigotry on the marriage issue, barely plausible legal cover to deny charity to the sick children of lesbians, as Jesus taught them is just and proper.

What I meant was, it’s a win. And what’s the fun of winning if you can’t make fun of the losers, in this case State Senator Ruben Diaz (D-12th Century) and Michael Long (Chairman of the Conservative Party of New York, a consolation prize he accepted after losing out in his bid for King of the Dipshits). Diaz is a real piece of work. But the best part of this piece of guff is the polling data:

The National Organization for Marriage released a poll of registered New Yorkers, conducted this past weekend. Fifty-seven percent of New York voters agree that “marriage should only be between a man and a woman” versus 32 percent who disagree. Meanwhile, the new NOM poll shows that only about one in four New York voters (26 percent) prefer legislators in Albany to decide this issue, while 59 percent say the issue of marriage should be decided by the voters in New York.

Hahahahahahaha. A National Organization for Marriage poll! Comedy. The NOM nom nom yum yum gullible bigotry poll has some problems, like a ludicrously low sample size comprised of old wingnuts, and the fact that it was commissioned and run by bigots.

Diaz & Long want us to know:

Gay marriage is not inevitable.

Well, yeah, it is. But we’re not bitter. We’ll save some green bean supreme for you.