Anti-Gummint Party Sycophant Wonders,

“Hey! Where’d all this anti-gummint stuff come from?!”

Ah, Bobo. So… boundlessly inadequate in so many ways.

With nothing whatsoever to recommend him, it does make me wonder why he has any kind of writing gig at all, anywhere, much less an NYT column and a permanent seat on not one but two prominent news/commentary programs.

I mean he is so talentless. So…Peter Keating. So doggedly and uniformly subpar that I have to assume that his NYT sojourn is the remnant of some kind of Pasty Hack Outreach program. Or else the Times quietly decided to branch out of the “literate” niche and downmarket their gray pages to the “Sons of the Soil” and other gasoline sippers.

Or maybe it’s just the Gannon-thing: that Bobo just has faboo pix of members of House Sulzberger having carnal knowledge of various endangered species, including but not limited to the American Pika, the Atlantic Salmon and Kemp’s Ridley Turtle…

So why whump on poor, dumb Bobo on this particular day?

Well there I was, minding my own bidness, visually slant-drilling the contents of the Times (upside-down, too, which is a bit of a trick) from a poor trader deep in his cups when my eyes skittered across and were affronted by this mental speed-hump piece-a poo by Brooksie.

But how to get the paper away from the Man in the Day-Glo Yellow jacket in a properly seasonal and devoutly NeoChristian way?
They I heard him say “holiday” and that gave me my opening.

I sprang into action.

Although I bear no resemblance to him, I shrieked at the top of my lungs, “I’m Bill Fucking O’Reilly, you dirty Christ-killin’, America-hatin’ kike!!” Then I swiped his NYT, yelling, “You’re not good enough to read BoBo’s patriotic-if-faggy prose!”

Then as he rose to confront my sniveling slander, I saw that he was considerably bigger and tougher that me, so I ran into the night squealing like a wee lass.

As performance art it was, if I may say so, the Total O’Reilly Experience.

And I got the paper, and here is what it said in an article entitled, “The Age of Skepticism”

War is a cultural event. World War I destroyed the old social order in Europe and disillusioned a generation of talented young Americans. World War II bred a feeling of American unity and self-confidence. Vietnam helped trigger a counterculture.

The Iraq war is not going to have that kind of pervasive cultural impact, but it has already shifted the zeitgeist. There has been a sharp drop in Americans' faith in their institutions. Trust in government has fallen back to about half of where it was in 2001. More Americans believe that government is almost always wasteful and inefficient, according to surveys by the Pew Research Center.

Then, babble-babble, bitch-bitch, rebel-rebel, Bobo bemoans the “decline in support for the United Nations.” And the fact that Americans are increasingly cynical about politics and their parties.”

Then Bobo leaps straight for the thesaurus and declares that,

…
Finally, a brackish tide of pessimism has descended upon the country. Roughly two-thirds of Americans say the country is headed in the wrong direction. Iraq is not the only issue that is driving this sour pessimism, but it is the main issue. (Katrina has had a surprisingly modest impact.)
…

In this atmosphere of exhaustion, the political pendulum swings from engagement to cynicism. When polarized voters lose faith in their own side, they don't switch to the other. They just withdraw.
…

In theory, skepticism leads to prudence, not a bad trait. But when it is tinged with cynicism, as it is now, skepticism turns into passivity. In skeptical ages, people are quick to decide that longstanding problems, like poverty and despotism, are intractable and not really worth taking on. They find it easy to delay taking any action on the distant but overwhelming problems, like the deficits, that do not impose immediate pain.
…

What a complete and utter ass.

The image of Alphonse Capone showing up at a funeral and reading out his “bereavement” over the bodies civilians he slaughtered is only mildly more revolting than the idea of ANY Republican taking to the public square to wail and gnash their teeth and rend their garments over the fact that the public has lost faith in public institutions.

For the last thirty years, in order to gain control over the levers of power, the Party of God has raised a steady, fanatical war not against some particular policy, but against the legitimacy of government and of civil and secular society itself.

A war against tolerance.

A war against peace.

A war against human rights.

A war against civil rights.

A war against labor.

A war against women.

A war against children.

A war against the Prince of Peace (hat-tip to Jimmy Carter for that one.)

A was against kindness and commonwealth.

A war against every authentic American value we have.

And it has been that alliance of thieves, con men, Armageddonists and bigots that call themselves the Republican Party -– BoBo’s Party -- that has waged this war, carefully, deliberately and each in single-minded pursuit of its own particular and despicable agenda.

Hey, asshat, didn’t you get the memo?

Destroying our faith in institutions? Undermining our confidence in our ability to unite and solve out common problems?

That. Was. The. Fucking. Plan. Asshole.

Because there was no other way for theocrats and thugs to take over the United State than for them to rip the throat out of the whole idea of what the United States was supposed to be and pee on it as it bled to death. All while apologists for those selfsame rat-bastards -- like BoBo -- “look with alarm” at the prostrate nation bleeding out, scratching their fat asses and wondering aloud, “Lawd have mercy! Whoever could have done such a thing?!”

Of course, a Quisling like Brooksie knows perfectly well that his Party is the premeditated murderer of comity and democracy, and all of his flaccid prose exists solely to allow inbred WalMart Republicans to poke their stinky, webbed digits at a “smart guy” and say to themselves, “See. Even that thar faggy elitist sez ahm right!”

But at least for form’s sake, would someone press a copy of Newt Gingrich’s “Little Red State Book” into Bobo’s hands anyway? Or the transcript of every episode of Limbaugh’s show for the last 15 years?

Or the 700 Club?

Or every bilious splintered object of speech that the hagged-out egg-layer of the GOP hate machine – Phyllis Schlafly – has ever puked into the ears of her whelplings?

Or the text from any random showing of the profoundly anti-Christian “Old Time Gospel Hour”?

Or just force him to write the most famous quote by one of the most radical enemies of Democracy the GOP ever installed in higher office:

“The government isn’t the solution. The government in the problem.”

Or even just sing him of the Republican Anthem.

Oh you don’t know the Republican Anthem?

Well then.

1...2...3...


The truth,


the truth,


the truth is on fire



We don't need no water, let the motherfucker burn.