American Discourse

June 13, 2006
Ann Coulter is everything you hope your daughter doesn't become: a snide, malicious, repulsive Archie Bunker clone in a skank mask who sells books by whoring herself out to the RNC as an irritating, polito-clown, adding snotty tag-lines to Republican talking points. 

I mean that, of course, in the most respectful way. 

She is a serpent, and the kind of character often introduced in pulp fiction novels for the sole purpose of manipulating the reader into unconsciously hoping that the writer is enough of a hack to make sure she dies in a fiery car crash, complete with exploding gas tanks, flying body parts and a little girl holding a bloody doll.

Respectfully speaking.

In a comic book she would be a creepy, slinking creature who punctures her lover's heart with a claw full of poison just as he reaches orgasm.

With all due respect.

So anyway, our leader wrapped his greedy lips around the Christian Right money spigot last week and sucked in deep as he gave his "no queers at the alter" speech, deliberately using the term "activist judges" at least three times by my count as a politically
correct, Conservative euphemism for "bench fags". Shifting media attention away from the Iraq war and soaring energy prices and a sliding dollar and a post 9/11 open border policy and campaign finance corruption and criminal indictments of Administration officials and no one ever taking responsibility for anything (and on and on) is no easy task. You need the right issue and the right way to deliver it.

You need..

Gay guys tongue kissing in front of Jesus on state-run television. That's what you need. FOX "news" programmers wring their hands with glee every time they get to crash in with an "update", keeping America "up to the minute" on the "fast-breaking story" of
institution-crumbling, hand-holding, sloppy-smooching homos united in unholy matrimony by "liberal churches performing pagan ceremonies" that are plunging us down the slippery slope toward people legally having sex with dogs, all narrated over the same awkward footage of the same two fat dudes swapping the same spit in the same church, minute after minute, hour after hour, like a low budget, gay porn channel. 

Television journalism is dead. There is only infomercial. 

And we'll be right back with our obnoxious exposé of another nonevent that we've elevated to a national story so that we can broadcast prepackaged opinions on diversionary arguments written by think-tank consultants and delivered by shrill Republican talk show hosts who kneel at the alter of Karl Rove...

..but first let's watch a drug company spend $200,000 for thirty seconds of your attention.

Sit on it, Potsie.

Rotate on it, Ralph.

Copyright 2006 John Bizarre

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