Free to wallow in their own crapulence

2015 looks to be the Year Of The Republican. Let’s not pretend otherwise, they’re the ones who’ve got the political world on a string. It’s their turn to run the show. The House will stay in the GOP’s hip pocket, the Senate will turn over to a Republican majority, and the country’s twenty-eight conservative governors will become even more overwhelmingly conservative. Pretty soon Mike Huckabee will giddily announce his bid for the presidency, Mitch McConnell will sadly call for impeachment, and the Reverend Gordon ‘Dr. Chaps’ Klingenschmitt will take his seat in a Colorado delegation rather than one in any corner room of a proper sanitarium. All tolled, it looks like 2015 will be a pretty darn good year for the Olde Douche.

Don’t doubt for a minute that Fox News isn’t already aware of it. It looks as if they’re going out of their way – from day one – to remind everybody just how sweet, fruity and delicate their vintage of A-HOLE is. With this segment, and in this heartwarming case, the traditionalist Americans are here to remind you that they care sincerely about helping women:

AINSLEY: It is a new year and that means it is time for some new relationships in your life. So how can you navigate building new bridges this year whether it’s in the workplace or if it’s in the dating world or in your family?

What gal wouldn’t be happy to get a few relationship pointers from Roger Ailes?

CLAYTON: Well, ladies, listen up. Ladies, we’re talking to you. If you still don’t have a new year’s resolution, could this be it? A new dating guide is offering some honest advice on how to get a husband.

To begin with, if you’re watching Fox and Friends today – a perfectly good holiday – you’re in real trouble. More depressingly, if your new year’s resolution is to ‘get a husband’ you’re probably beyond any practical help. Now might be a good time to fix yourself a heaping bowl of Banana Nut Clorox.

PETER: The first one is: No matter where a woman was in life she should always be able to cater to her man’s needs.

AINSLEY: Oh wow. Of course, a man is writing that.

Damn straight. And how ’bout you mull that over for a second, eh toots?

CLAYTON: This is part of your new year’s resolutions, right? You wanted to…

AINSLEY: …I do want, yeah. I do want to be a better wife. I’m going to be a better wife.

There, that’s better. ONE down.

PETER: How about this one: When he gets his ego stroked, he’ll be more inclined to love you more.

AINSLEY: THAT’S TRUE.

CLAYTON: That’s absolutely true.

AINSLEY: THAT IS TRUE.

Ding-ding, TWO down. What a serving of tasty advice. Please, douche, can I have some more? For that holiday second helping, we turn directly to Fox’s romance experts:

On why women should “stroke his ego”:

Single man: “‘Cater 2 U’ [by Destiny's Child] should be on every woman’s playlist and kept on repeat…”

This is a fabulously spineless tip. Ladies, play your melodious slavery suggestions at bedtime and have them insinuated into your subconscious brain overnight. Wake up thoroughly refreshed and pre-programmed the next day, ready to get yourself a man. With an unsettling gleam in your eyes, and a smoking chainsaw in your hands. Look out boys, this one’s got ideas.

Similarly, I believe it would also be perfectly sensible, relationship-wise – let’s call it ‘beneficial’ – for any suitor worthy of matrimony to have a loop of Glenn Danzig barking ‘MOTHERRR!’ in the lava-hot center of his head, night and day. For the purposes of either gender, frankly, any of the typical torture techniques can be employed to render oneself a weeping blob of Jell-O and turn the heads of potential partners your way. Especially when they’re currently working in the now closely-related fields of mental health or homeland security.

PETER: …well there’s one way that you could, this third way: Prepare his meals, draw him a bath and massage his feet every now and then.

CLAYTON: My wife’s at home taking notes right now. Absolutely. She already does cook meals, she’s a fantastic cook.

Ainsley was only partly down with this third one.

…once you start though, women, you’ve got to continue it. So if you start this in the dating, you’ve got to continue all the way through…

Don’t go all Downton Abbey on Master Tenderfoot and then later proclaim for some reason that you belong upstairs. Once you know your place, girls, consider it best just to stay there. And try not to tip over Master’s pisspots (idiots). Asked to weigh in on the matter I suppose I’d have to agree with the experts. After a year of my last girlfriend carrying me around in a sedan chair, I got used to it. Not long after she stabbed me in the face with a hot poker, I began to miss it.

Clayton comes back:

My wife does cook. And she does give me foot massages.

Good little wife! Arf arf! Okay, yeah I should probably refrain from being so un-romantic and sentimental. I should really make an effort to applaud the little bliss-besotted Fox acolytes of this desperate, wind-swept world. Fine then, alright. Well done FX-11000! YOU HAVE BONDED STATUS WITHIN THE HUMAN MATRIX. And you’re all welcome.

Any more insights for the ladies? Yes, more from Fox’s relationship experts. Here are two revelations from which you can learn everything you ever wanted to know about male infidelity, forever. First:

“…when it comes to a woman, a man is a natural predator. He stalks his prey and pounces every chance he gets until she either gives in or ignores his every advance. That animal instinct in us is what feeds our lust and causes us to lose all sense of what is rational and right or wrong.”

A man needs to have sex with every woman he sees, just like a lion. It’s called Nature. Second:

“A man who cheats is looking for someone to fulfill a part of him that his lady is not, plain and simple. Whether physical, emotional or social, if there is an imbalance in the relationship, he will seek balance.”

Big butts bring me down, woman. And a man needs balance. Yeah right, douche.

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Where the only water flowing is the butter sting of tears

It seems to me there are certain ways of understanding things. This is a fact of life, I think. You can look at something a certain way, but then it seems as if there’s always another way to look at it. Know what I mean? Like you could walk around behind something and it would no longer look the same. As I grew older I became aware of this weird effect – and then I became obsessed with it. Everywhere I went I would see something, but then I would immediately think: What if I looked at it another way? What if I saw it from the alley, or the side street? What if I saw it from the rooftop of a big building? I always thought: I bet it would look different.

Every year, in the week between Christmas and New Year’s, I think about George W. Bush.

It was in that week each year for the eight years I covered him as a reporter that he gave me a spectacular gift — and he knew it.

A spectacular gift. I would wake up early every Christmas morning, and yawn a charming kitty-yawn with fey but alarming authenticity, then I’d peek out the second floor window of my Tudor TV-mansion. And down below me, every year, I would see in my driveway: The Global War On Terror. Wrapped entirely in an over-sized red bow. And I would excitedly put my hands to the sides of my head, as if I’d just then gotten the mumps, and I’d cry out “WAR CRIMES!” Oh I piddled on more than one set of Walker Texas Ranger pajamas, I can tell you.

In December, we never left Washington, D.C., until the day after Christmas. Never. Mr. Bush and his wife, Laura, would always depart the White House a few days before the holiday and hunker down at Camp David, the presidential retreat in Maryland. After a few years, I asked a low-level White House staffer why.

I still remember what she said: “So all of us can be with our families on Christmas.”

…and so it was, that god-damn ole’ George W. Bush. Sniff, did all of it. Sob, just for me. Such a softhearted son of a bitch. Mother Teresa herself could compile a list of his mercies and graces, but I can remember every one. 9/11? Sniff. Iraq? Sob. Torture? Choke, gasp, beg for your now-useless life. And let’s not mention all those ersatz pool reporters posted overseas and carrying M16s instead of pens across eight Decembers, getting shot at or dismembered during one Infidelmas after another. No point in spitting on a soggy Hallmark Card.

All that has changed with President Obama. No more press plane, for one. Reporters are on their own — so taking family is, say, $1,000 a pop. Not likely. And this president would never delay his trip to his island getaway. He’s off every year well before Christmas. Hundreds and hundreds head off with him, leaving family behind.

No Christmas at home. Instead, the Hawaiian Village Waikiki Beach Resort. Nice, but not exactly home.

Is this Washington Times guy slagging the President for flying away to his own home rather than to the reporter’s? Yes. He certainly is, and let’s let that just sink in. Mmmmmmm. That’s some delicious wingnut.

Anyway, that’s why I think of George W. Bush every year in the week between Christmas and New Year’s. Probably will till I die. Thanks, GWB.

Quelle surprise. Come Christmas time, he didn’t act anything like the Cadaver King. What a guy.

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Stop crying and fight your father

The aluminum pole, centered in the living room, shone lovely and bright. The meatloaf simmered in the oven, and the spaghetti whirled on the boil. Both were very soon to be plated, to the delight of a beloved family and the cherished holiday-gathered. And so the moment approached. It would soon be time for the Airing Of Grievances.

In a New York Times op-ed piece last December, for example, Gail Collins derided the American Family Asoociation and others for embracing “a seasonal victimhood” that is meant to force stores to link corporate greed with the birth of Jesus Christ.

Nothing could be further from the truth, but we learned long ago that the secular news media sometimes cares little for the truth when it comes to evangelical Christians. A good smear is quicker and cheaper than actually trying to understand us.

You’re right. I always assumed that you, Bryan Fischer, and the AFA were such fishhead fools that you couldn’t possibly be understood by capacious brainpan Homo sapiens, like myself. So I will dispense with the elitist nonsense. And I will try harder in the future to fathom your deepwater bilge-burps, so that your fish feelings will be less inclined to painfully, or even permanently, bruise. And I will furthermore try my best to avoid an even worse fate, perhaps, in abandoning your salten fee-fees to rot with the rest of you, after you’re carelessly gaffed and hauled aboard by slavering splay-legged orangutans like me, sentient and yeah a little hungry – thanks for asking – in the mid-day sun.

Joseph Farah:

With all the attacks on Christmas in recent years, I wonder how much of the fun and delight of Christmas has been robbed from our kids.

And haven’t the children all been sad? Not a single one wants a toy this year, and I blame myself.

But, of course, the attacks are not really directed at Christmas, at all. Christmas is only a target of the secular jihadists of the American Civil Liberties Union and their co-conspirators at Americans United For Separation of Church and State; their ultimate goal is destroying what Christmas represents.

…to destroy the Winter Solstice? My pal Igor is going to have to build a much bigger gyroscope before that happens. He’s going to have to fire up a whirlygig about the size of Paramus before we can lift this bitch out of its lazy orbit. Here in California the fire season has expanded from its hot-blooded temporal habits to include every day of the year, and this isn’t normal. Or good. But those are hardly reasons to move out of the solar system, I think. Barry Loudermilk:

“It’s always been an honored time but just recently it seems like it has gotten to the point where we have to even defend our rights that are given to us to celebrate the birth of Christ and even just the celebration of Christmas has been under fire by the far-left,” he said.

The forsaken Asterisk Amendment. You have the right to celebrate His Birth. This one was written in fresh lemon juice, and you can see it clearly by putting a match to The Bill Of Rights. This is, of course, all they’ve been trying to do for two centuries.

Loudermilk later said that people throughout the country “lost their sense of hope” and pride but will ultimately persevere, comparing America to George Bailey of “It’s A Wonderful Life.”

George ran into a little money trouble. So like a good little dear, he swore off his family and jumped into a river – or at least he tried. But he was lousy at that, as he was with pretty much everything else, until a manifestation intervened and then…all was…*bliss* Anyone can see that this is a ham-handed remake of the Ronald Reagan story but with Alzheimer’s taking the Clarence Odbody part. Why conservative America would liken itself to a suicidal flop soon to be rendered hopelessly insane is a bit of a mystery.

Happy Festivus everyone!

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This too is also bad

It looks as if Our World is coming apart.

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It’s becoming senseless. And violent.

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Turning into a nightmare.

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Like a Balkan war. I’m not sure we can go on living like this. Can’t we go back to the way it used to be?

Your police force cannot wrongly shoot you.

It just doesn’t happen. Well, deadly police shootings do happen in Houston at an average of one every three weeks. But none of them is inappropriate. Every shooting by a Houston Police Department officer is investigated by HPD’s Internal Affairs and Homicide divisions. Between 2007 and 2012, according to HPD records, officers killed citizens in 109 shootings. Every killing was ruled justified.

The 112 instances of an officer shooting and injuring a person were justified, too.

So were the 104 times an officer wounded an animal, and the 225 times an officer killed an animal.

…where we didn’t have to wonder about street justice? Or neighborhood vigilantes? Remember the days when we never questioned what the hell the cops were doing, and why? *cough*

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How to hate Stephen Colbert without really trying

An American satirist bids goodbye to his TV show. This occasions Assrocket to give you the long view.

I have never seen Stephen Colbert’s show on Comedy Central, but I take it that it consists of an endless series of anti-Republican “jokes.”

Not that never-seeing his act will get in the way.

If asked, would Colbert admit to being a loyal Democratic Party foot soldier, or would he claim to be a stubbornly independent sort who socks it to both sides? I don’t know, but the Democrats aren’t in any doubt. Yesterday the Democratic Congressional Campaign Committee sent this email to the party faithful;

thanks stephen

That was followed by a link to an official Democratic Party web page called “Thank You Stephen Colbert!”

Well there’s nothing more to say now, comrades. The jig is up. Everybody turn in your decoder rings.

…I guess the Democrats have known all along that Colbert’s show was an hour-long commercial for their party and its candidates.

The point being, I take it, that American entertainers should remain neutral. It would have been fair play for Stephen to get hired for, say, a sitcom and ply his trade in grand service to Broad Comedy. Jim Nabors was one hell of a talent for example (ever seen him sing? *whistle*).

It’s however altogether different when you’re only stooping to take part in a media conspiracy. Any liberal with a Hotmail account can just e-mail Howard Dean and get set up with a cable show. And when the Hollywood manipulators are of Clinton-quality, of course you can rack up a few seasons. Maybe even nine years – so what? It’s the sort of thing that should probably be a crime.

I am not in favor of restricting anyone’s right to free speech, but if federal law is going to bar a businessman from contributing enough to buy more than a minimal amount of television time on behalf of his party or his candidates, why shouldn’t Stephen Colbert and Comedy Central be prohibited from airing millions of dollars worth of pro-Democratic Party propaganda?

And we’ve seen this before. How much cash did the Johnson administration funnel into Columbia Records? How many Bob Dylan records did they buy before the whole ruse was exposed?

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If you see Scott Stapp riding around on a bike…

…please tackle him.

Scott Stapp threatened to assassinate President Obama… and his alarmed wife and sister-in-law made a desperate 911 call to stop him.

Hear the sirens, America? We have to stop Creed’s lead singer from assassinating the president.

Scott had just gone AWOL from a mental facility late last month, when his sister-in-law told the 911 dispatcher he was cruising around his neighborhood, shirtless on a bicycle. She says the former Creed frontman claimed to be a CIA agent and his mission was to kill Obama.

For the Love Of God. Suggestions?

Jaclyn Stapp, Scott’s wife, joins the 40-minute 911 call, telling the dispatcher Scott had printed out 400 – 600 pages of CIA documents which he supposedly found online, put them in a book bag and took off on his bike.

The 2 women were pleading with the dispatcher to snare Scott and take him back to the psych ward.

Yes, that. To the asylum mooks, with the long black gloves: Please do “snare Scott and take him back to the psych ward.” That’d be fine. Meanwhile everybody carry a stick with you at all times. And when Scott on his bike comes anywhere near you jam it in his spokes. Take that, Lee Harvey Douchewald.

As cops were dispatched, Scott placed his own 911 call, saying his wife had stolen his truck and that’s why he was on a bike.

Semper vigilans.

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Of course people are born gay

Get this.

Identical twins have the same genes or DNA. They are nurtured in equal prenatal conditions. If homosexuality is caused by genetics or prenatal conditions and one twin is gay, the co-twin should also be gay … because identical twins are always genetically identical, homosexuality cannot be genetically dictated. No-one is born gay.

To drive the point home the Parents and Friends of Ex-Gays put up a billboard in Richmond.

anti-gay billboard

Well what about it, people? Are gay men sissified by choice? And a burning love for Satan? Or is there something behind all the shenanigans? Might something come into play before a homosexual’s dirty free will to influence his behavior? Could it be biology? That’s a good question.

Let’s get right to PFOX’s argument. The identical twin of a gay man isn’t always gay. This is true.

In 2000 Bailey, Dunne and Martin studied a larger sample of 4,901 Australian twins… They found 20% concordance in the male identical or MZ twins and 24% concordance for the female identical or MZ twins. Self reported zygosity, sexual attraction, fantasy and behaviours were assessed by questionnaire and zygosity was serologically checked when in doubt. A meta-study by Hershberger (2001)[6] compares the results of eight different twin studies: among those, all but two showed MZ twins having much higher concordance of sexual orientation than DZ twins, suggesting a non-negligible genetic component.

The odds of an identical twin also being gay are not 100%. The odds are closer to 20%. Unfortunately…

Chandra, Mosher, Copen, and Sionean (2011)

Data collected from a national sample of 13,495 men and women between 2006 and 2008. The study attempted to differentiate between sexual attraction, sexual behavior, and sexual identity. The percentage reporting their sexual identity as homosexual ranged from 2% to 4% of males, and about 1% to 2% of females.

…the incidence of random male homosexuality in the population is only around three percent. Which means when your twin is gay you’re seven times more likely to be gay as well. I’d say the data weigh in against PFOX. You might not be as tall as your dad but your height is certainly influenced by his DNA, for example. The facts suggest that genetics plays a crucial, though not definitive, role. Then there’s this:

Blanchard and Klassen (1997) reported that each additional older brother increases the odds of a man being gay by 33%.[24][25] This is now “one of the most reliable epidemiological variables ever identified in the study of sexual orientation.”[26] To explain this finding, it has been proposed that male fetuses provoke a maternal immune reaction that becomes stronger with each successive male fetus.

If you’re a first-born male, your odds of being homosexual are around three percent. Second born? Four percent. Third born? Five percent. The more older brothers you have, the more likely you’ll be gay. If you want to mis-interpret these facts and pretend that the teasing or bullying of an older brother encourages the queer, you’re out of luck. There are no data to suggest that younger bullies turn older brothers gay. Which would have fit PFOX’s agenda beautifully, don’t you think? A sissypants theory of general sexual biology.

There are also fascinating studies on the epigenetics of homosexuality, specifically related to the process of X-chromosome inactivation. And of course there’s the 20 year-old study on the structure of the hypothalamus in homosexual men. Taking this all in, complicated as it is, there’s only one thing we can say with a bit of confidence: Some men are born gay. Maybe not all of them, but a lot of them. Now, time for recess:

The South African man featured on an antigay billboard in Richmond, Virginia spoke up Thursday saying that he himself is gay and that he does not agree with the billboard’s message.

The ‘twins’ that PFOX featured on the billboard are, of course, homosexual.

Roux said that not only is he not a twin, he is an “out and proud gay man.”

“I was obviously quite shocked, so that why I decided to send you guys an email saying hey, I’m that guy in that billboard,” he wrote to Channel 12.

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Legendary rock n’ roll failure to America: You’re doing it wrong.

Scott Stapp, lead singer of the worst rock band in Earth’s long and glorious history, is apparently broke. Hungry. Destitute. And living in his truck down by the river. And it’s just now come to his attention that you’re a stupid with a stupid head and your stupid head doesn’t love Jesus the way that he does. Which is the reason why Stay n’ Wash can’t really get out those tough greasy stains, or the reason why America is dying a harrowing spiritual death.

In a rambling video previously posted to his Facebook page, Scott Stapp — former lead singer of the band Creed — lamented the “soul sickness” that pervades America “because God has been removed out of American culture and relegated to churches.”

You might recall, in 1999, back when Scott could get his blowjobs videotaped, or back when Scott could get a blowjob, how America had been forced into praying to Scott’s God on a daily basis at school, or at work, or while listening to the worst crap anyone had ever heard on the radio. But not nowadays. Not now that everything is different. And not in some whatever trivial ‘I have no money and I just drove my truck into a river’ sort of way. In a REAL country-wide sort of way:

“We’ve taken God out of everything , we won’t allow our kids to pray to Christ or God in our public schools, but we sure will make allowances for Muslims and Hindus and Buddhists to have their freedom of religion, ” he said. “So we take Christianity out but then we inundate our children’s minds with the freedom of religion for everybody else. I mean, we’re humans, we’re made up of body, mind and soul.”

I mean if Freedom of Religion doesn’t require Christianity for everyone, what about us, the humans? What about our souls, man? These are fascinating questions, for which I have no answers.

Stapp continued, “Right now, we’ve got a generation of children and people all the way up into their forties who have a complete soul sickness because God has been removed out of American culture and relegated to churches. Except it’s printed on our money, because what I’m starting to realize is that’s really what’s become the God of America: money.”

This money-god thing being the reason why Scott doesn’t mind at all that he’s bankrupt and living in a rusty ’83 Ford F150 down by the river, and he hates fishing. Oh but No. Rather what I meant to say was that he’s completely obsessed with getting his millions of stolen rock n’ roll dollars back from that damned ten-penny grifter. You know, the nice-enough guy who had the gall to ask ‘Hey man what’s that behind you?’ and then fly Scott’s former life off to Brazil. Where the con-man and Scott’s former life now live in a hotel penthouse and do it doggystyle all day, while they listen to Nickelback. And while they spend Scott’s money eating Scott’s shrimp cocktail and they laugh. OH how they laugh. The end.

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Shia LaBeouf claims he was raped

Oh Really?

The actor Shia LaBeouf has claimed a woman raped him during the performance of his one-man art piece #IAMSORRY earlier this year.

Speaking to Dazed magazine in an email interview, he wrote: “One woman who came with her boyfriend, who was outside the door when this happened, whipped my legs for 10 minutes and then stripped my clothing and proceeded to rape me.”

Pity an actor dedicated to his craft. He ends up getting quietly raped in a solo art gallery show.

#IAMSORRY consisted of LaBeouf sitting silently with a paper bag on his head, bearing the legend “I am not famous anymore” – members of the public queued to be able to sit in front of him in the one-on-one piece. It ran for five days in February at a Los Angeles gallery.

Maybe talking about the nightmare will serve a greater purpose. Perhaps chatting about it online with Dazed magazine will begin to ease the pain. We can only hope.

LaBeouf said that news of the incident “travelled through the line” of people waiting, and reached LaBeouf’s girlfriend. “When she came in she asked for an explanation, and I couldn’t speak, so we both sat with this unexplained trauma silently. It was painful.”

These are the dirty little secrets that Hollywood’s leading men have been hiding for years. Between the million dollar paychecks there are the dreadful sexual assaults they’re helpless to prevent because they’re stuck in an art gallery at the time, wearing a paper bag over their head so they can whine about fame. And after the minutes-long crotch defiling Shia…still…couldn’t speak. All he could do was sit with his fabulous girlfriend and his unexplained trauma in sad repose. Because #IAMSORRY. And also #ACTING. You ask me, I’ll tell you that Christ was ultimately a tragic figure because he needed to stay in character at all times. And because even though his girlfriend sometimes got upset, he never ever called the cops. I didn’t think it was possible to rape the crime of ‘rape’, but I think this douche just did it.


More, from People magazine:

“One woman who came with her boyfriend, who was outside the door when this happened, whipped my legs for 10 minutes and then stripped my clothing and proceeded to rape me … There were hundreds of people in line when she walked out with disheveled hair and smudged lipstick. It was no good, not just for me but her man as well,” he writes of the incident.

LaBeouf says things got even worse when he realized that his girlfriend, fellow Nymphomaniac actress Mia Goth, was waiting in line to see him when the assault took place.

“On top of that my girl was in line to see me, because it was Valentine’s Day and I was living in the gallery for the duration of the event – we were separated for five days, no communication. So it really hurt her as well, as I guess the news of it traveled through the line. When she came in she asked for an explanation, and I couldn’t speak, so we both sat with this unexplained trauma silently. It was painful.”

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Conservatives and Comedy Autism: The Ebola edition

Why aren’t conservatives funny? Why can’t they do comedy? Why are their political cartoons utterly senseless and mysterious stabs at satire? I don’t know. But it fascinates me.

I’ve been posting them here for five years. The misspelled word, the mixed metaphor, the forsaken simile, these are the robust tools of the men and women who make their living drawing cartoons for the likes of the Washington Times and Townhall.com. What’s astounding is that apparently large numbers of human beings find these things entertaining.

So, now that our EBOLA! epidemic has run its course, and we’re done burying all the bodies, let’s take a look at how the yukmeisters portrayed the crisis. Couldn’t we use a coupla laffs right now? In between all the memorials and tears? Sure.

Remember when no one yet knew how bad it was gonna be?

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Those were the days. I remember seeing this cartoon and thinking…’Oh crap. We’re in real trouble.’

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Then there were all the fools who said it couldn’t possibly get any worse than, say, the cost of living. Fancy Moses, I bet they’re embarrassed.

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Take a minute, and think about all of your neighbors who were killed by Vladimir Putin, ISIS, or the Secret Service in 2014 (if that’s possible). Then think about this: The Ebola pandemic was even worse than all of that. This drawing is an accurate snapshot of the conservative zombie-mind cerca, oh, 30 days ago. Feel free to update it by erasing ‘Ebola’ and penciling in ‘Immigration.’

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To my thinking the little Texan isn’t just a fair representation of millions of poor kids living in backwards towns across the country. It’s also a pretty good likeness of any Republican who ran for office in 2014. Scott Brown, thoughts of you.

Remember the Obama administration’s stubborn stance on Ebola? How very careless and dangerous.
(more…)

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Farewell Jose’s finger

Before you go and shoot one of your body parts off – and I realize there are a lot of you, I know – here’s something to keep in mind. The list of ready replacements is a short one indeed. Barring that limited option there’s only so much that modern science can do for you. Those delicate little blood vessels can be a bitch to re-attach.

Here it was

jose's smelly finger

…but like a crusty band-aid, it just fell off. Cheers to you Jose’s smelly finger, you had a good run.

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Biology class demands your best manners, madame

While I think learning biology can make a teenager wise and sophisticated, if not unfailingly sexy and charming, I don’t believe the subject extends itself into every aspect of life. There’s no need, for example, to have a local surgeon carry out a large bowel resection before the classroom. Yes the oozing guts will be a fabulous example of ‘biology’. But the unconscious student will fail to see the point.

BOISE, Idaho (AP) – An Idaho biology teacher is facing possible disciplinary action after killing and skinning a rabbit in class to show students where their food comes from…

The rabbit was then skinned and cut up in front of the 10th graders

Westfall says the demonstration isn’t part of the biology curriculum….

The teacher’s name hasn’t been released.

Except at the molecular level, pretty much everything mammals do with food is disgusting. Let’s not bring a cart ox into class and have it defecate on the floor. Let’s not demonstrate ‘where the food goes.’ Much of high school biology is necessarily a delicate farce.

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