Brit Hume and Bill O'Reilly: Arch Leftist Commie Pinkos

H/T Heather at Crooks & Liars.

Every few months for the last very many years, Dr. Frankenstein's creature has punched Dr. Frankenstein a little harder in the nuts.

After which the Doctor whiiiiiiiiiines that this time the Monster really has gone too far.

Back in the early aughts when Liberal oases were few and far between I vividly recall talking with other Liberal traitor commentors at the late Steve Gilliard's News Blog about the remarkable similarity between the Republican Base and the myth of the Golem: a trope I revisited a few years later when I had left the nest and gone out to establish a Liberal Treason Pit all my own:

...
But none of this has ever been about proof; it is entirely about ritual. 

These are solemn rites performed for the Party Golem -- the Men of Mud with no thoughts but the thoughts they are told to think by the Dear Leader, hard-wired with the Prime Directive that Liberals are Always Wrong, Liberals are to Blame for Everything, and that the Dear Leader is a Plainspoken Man and a Per’fessed Christian and therefore is simply incapable of telling anything other than the Unvarnished Truth.

They are brought to a semblance of life by the stamp of hate and fear and greed that the Roves and Dobsons affix to their steeply-sloped foreheads. They are animated by Majyk Conjure Bile words by the likes of Coulter and Limbaugh; the demigods who casually burn yesterday's Scripted Verities, carefully inscribe on Hate Radio Parchment what their thralls are supposed to think today, and slip the new talking points into their mouths.

Their eyes flutter – the Party Golem – and they roar out into the streets to obediently scream today’s lies, which may or may not completely contradict what they were screaming the day before.

These people are not recruited for their critical thinking skills; they are useful only for their stupidity and meek submission to Conservative Authority. For the manipulable hellfest of bad religion and ugly ideology that packs their Creationist Bell Jar skulls. For the leering, jeering delight at that particular bloodthrill pleasure knucklewalkers get when they can pound the shit out of people who are better, smarter and more honorable than they will ever be.

But here's the catch: The rites must be observed. 

And if the proper Kabuki is not performed with all deliberate speed, the rank-and-file will start rubbing their little, dry hind legs together and making little frightened chirping noises. Not out of any concern for the “truth” -- they don't "do" truth -- but out of a growing fear of being stranded out in the big, scary Liberal World with no one to tell them what slogans they’re supposed to shout. 
...

For future students of history, early aughts were also a time when Brit Hume was making a living "interviewing" Dick Cheney about shooting people in the face, and pundits like David Brooks and Andrew Sullivan and Tom Friedman were making whole careers out of flailing the living shit out of Liberal traitors like me and praising the inerrant wisdom and sober judgement of George W. Bush.

I wonder whatever happened to those guys?