Why I'm not as cool as Jim Treacher

Oh, sure, I've been denounced by Rachel Maddow. My blog is supported by Pamela Anderson's breasts, I got a birthday shout-out from Day By Day, I get to hang with Malkin and Coulter, and I am close personal friends with Terry McAuliffe.

Also, I was recently linked by blog-fu sensei Moe Lane.

But Dennis Miller reads Jim Treacher's blog, and you couldn't get cooler than that if you were mainlining freon in Anchorage. Nude. In January.

Via Stephen Green, who is also not as cool as Jim Treacher, because nobody ever could be. Don't even try.

Cynthia Yockey: Not as gay as she thinks?

Unlike Rachel Maddow, Cynthia doesn't have that hate/envy thing with straight guys. She just prefers a feminine-type personality. So now we need to explain why Cynthia likes me so much. Guess I've got that kind of universality, like an adjustable wrench . . .

Too cruel, yet too true

"Lovers of this masterful Johnsonian art, as I am, always approach a session at Little Green Footballs with the pining hope that there will be, at long last, another image from Johnson's long running oeuvre: 'Nobody Here and Nothing Happening Nowhere.' Often we are disappointed and confronted instead with a mere masterpiece of cutting and pasting framed by the homespun prose commentary by the master hotchatter kicking off another round of up and down dinging amongst his 12 disciples. And while watching the drinking birds nod over the glass never fails to amuse, it does not satisfy."
-- from "The Eternal Banality of the Photography of Charles Foster Johnson," at American Digest

Belated Birthday Testimonial

Is Monique Stuart a white supremacist? If not, why is she saying nice things about me? Does her mother know?

BTW, I met Monique when she worked as an intern at the Washington Times in 2004. Two years later, she introduced me to Jason "Big Sexy" Mattera. A year after that, I sent another intern to interview Big Sexy. Should have known better . . .

The NEA gave Ed Driscoll a grant . . .

. . . and he subcontracted the job to Iowahawk:

Gee, Bill, maybe you should try explaining this to Rachel Maddow

“You shouldn’t believe everything you hear about me… You know nothing about me.”
-- Bill Ayers, white supremacist author of "Dreams From My Father"

Hey, did anybody else notice . . .

. . . that the fundamentals of the economy suck?

The dollar has weakened considerably this year amid low interest rates and massive government spending designed to spur the economy . . .
The U.S. dollar continued its six-month slide Tuesday amid a growing international chorus that wants the dollar replaced -- or at least supplemented -- as the world's reserve currency, a move that would end the greenback's six decades of global dominance . . .
The U.S. office vacancy rate reached a five-year high in the third quarter . . .

More where that came from. Also, generally speaking, oppose any proposal supported by Robert Reich.

Hey, Matt: You steal the newspapers' lunch, I'll go for the National Enquirer

"You wanna help newspapers? Steal their lunch, and laugh in their face. Since almost all else has failed, maybe a cold slap can do the trick."
-- Matt Welch, Reason magazine

SHOCKING RIGHT-WING SCANDAL!

Washington has been abuzz with bizarre rumors of kinky activity between libertarian journalist Matt Welch and Internet news guru Andrew Breitbart. The whispers of scandal were heard as far away as Knoxville, Tennessee . . .

Breitbart has more important things to worry about than Conor Friedersdorf

Nevertheless, he condescends to take notice:

Conor Friedersdorf refuses to interview me as he continues to be my unofficial biographer. (I’m VERY reachable, Conor.) He writes opinion pieces on me purporting to be journalism. He doesn’t quote or cite me, he simply assumes and pushes the point of view he thinks I have and makes an argument based on these alleged positions.

He even provides free copy for Andrew Sullivan:

I don't resent criticism. I embrace it. But I do resent self-superior journalists attempting to malign me and my vision without coming to me to get my thoughts.

Don't waste your time, Andrew. They are The Republicans Who Really Matter, and their ambitions have nothing to do with anything you're interested in. They claim to be "conservatives" only because, if they didn't, they'd be just more piranhas in the liberal pool.

(Via Memeorandum.)

UPDATE: Ed Driscoll also wastes too much thought on Conor Friedersdorf. Ed -- everybody -- let me sum it up: It's about Conor. His ambitions exceed his knowledge, and that explains everything. Whatever there may be of ideology in Conor's peregrinations is summarized by Dan Riehl:

He's gone from Right to post-Modernist to the Daily Beast in two months. That's someone embracing anything just to find a home. I don't think he even knows what he is at this point.

Right. Politically, he's a platypus.

More signs of consciousness in the electorate

by Smitty

PJTV's Bill Whittle highlights yet another provocative notion: The Contract From America.

This is another site collecting ideas from We The People, and is sponsored by the Tea Party Patriots. Whereas The Bill of Federalism started with Michael Patrick Leahy, the Tea Party Patriots are very literally all over the map.

Ultimately, what matters is that the neo-aristocracy of the modern liberal elite gets electorally kicked to the curb. The left-handed good news about this atrocious administration is that continues to drive a Constitutional awakening in the country.

Cynthia Yockey vs. Rachel Maddow: Lesbian Smackdown (Pop the Popcorn)

"Last week I thought the videos below were hilarious, but that it was too mean to grab them up from Ace of Spades HQ, who found the first one at The Other McCain. Then Rachel Maddow preached from the gospel of Charles Johnson of Little Green Footballs on "Meet the Press" ON MY FREAKING BIRTHDAY. . . . Kilgore Trout’s latest contribution to racial harmony was to go to Hot Air as a trusted registered commenter and spam the comment section with the n-word in the middle of the night while the moderators slept, then try to pass off his vandalism as representing their views."
-- Cynthia Yockey, A Conservative Lesbian

All the chicks dig Jimmie Bise

Because he's so rich, handsome, sexy and smart -- plus, he is a close personal friend of mine, and doesn't mind admitting it.

Because I'm SUPREME!

My friend Chris Muir celebrates my 50th birthday with an altogether natural joke about my growing reputation as the blogospheric Brabantio. You can click the image to see the rest.

It's a free country, and people are entitled to believe what they want. And they are even entitled to write what they want -- even if what they write is wrong. Of course, as they say, you shouldn't shout "fire" in a crowded theatre, although I don't know if the Supreme Court has yet ruled on whether you have the right to shout "miscegenation" in a crowded Alabama.

OK, there I go again -- joking about something that should only be addressed seriously, such as Rachel Maddow's dream of becoming Mrs. Jason Mattera. (Remember, Rachel: Once you've had Puerto Rican, you never go back. Just ask Suzanna Logan.)

If you're under 40, you might not believe it, but people used to be able to joke about stuff like this. Before political correctness, Mel Brooks made Blazing Saddles -- "It's twue! It's twue!" -- and there were no thought police taking down notes of who laughed at the jokes. When I was in college, we laughed at Animal House -- "Mind if we dance with your dates?" -- without realizing we were violating anyone's civil rights.

Given the choice between Mel Brooks and David Brooks, who do you trust? And would you rather watch Animal House or Michael Moore's latest flop? (Hint: Which one has a topless pillow-fight scene?)

At least since third grade, my class-clown tendency to treat everything as a set-up for a punchline has been getting me into trouble. Because I am altogether naturally so facetious and sarcastic, when I actually try to get serious, people become confused. "Uh . . . heh heh . . . you're joking, right?"

Well, as I always say, the key to success is sincerity -- once you learn to fake that, the rest is easy. The altogether natural response to accusations of prejudice is to say, "Hey, wait a minute -- some of my best friends are macacas!"

Had I been advising Sen. George Allen in 2006, that might have been his official response to the smears against him, and maybe he'd still be Senator, instead of James Webb, a notorious neo-Confederate. (NTTAWWT.)

Did anyone ever credibly suggest that George Allen was prejudiced against Indian-Americans? Does George Allen recoil in horror at being introduced to Dinesh D'Souza or Ramesh Ponnuru? Did George Allen ever support any policy that might be considered discriminatory against the many South Asian immigrants and their offspring who are now proud citizens of the Old Dominion?

The implied accusation of MacacaGate -- i.e., that Senator Allen's joking reference to Democratic activist S.R. Sidarth was evidence of prejudice -- was fundamentally false, so exactly what was accomplished by the senator's subsequently disastrous Apology Tour? (Fact: In 2007, I interviewed a leader of the Virginia division of the Sons of Confederate Veterans, who explained that he and many of his comrades enthusiastically supported Webb's campaign.)

God gives us enemies for a reason, and He chastises those He loves. Israel was enslaved by the Egyptians, conquered by the Assyrians, Babylonians and Romans -- did this signify God's blessing of Israel's conquerers? God's chosen people were dispersed to the four corners of the earth after the destruction of the Temple. They were despised, oppressed and persecuted.

Had Genesis 12:3 been repealed? God forbid! For somewhere in all this misery and suffering, the Lord of Hosts had a purpose and a meaning. Yet we see through a glass, darkly, and like Job's doubting wife, many will counsel us to "curse God and die." However, we know that the very name Israel can be translated "he who overcomes."

When an inveterate joker begins to speak seriously, people become frightened: "Are you OK, McCain? Have you been getting your rest? Taking your meds?"

Don't worry, folks. I'm just fine and dandy today. As Nurse Madeleine Ochoa might say, "Affect: Bright. Mood: Expansive." It's my 50th birthday, I was denounced on "Meet the Press" Sunday and I was libeled yesterday by a syphilitic poofter. All because the Left has it in for Sarah Palin and her new bestselling memoir Going Rogue.

As my faithful accomplice Smitty has reminded us today, the occasion of his gaining co-blogger status was an event at the Heritage Foundation. Gee, I wonder what Ginny Thomas must think about all this? Do you suppose Mrs. Thomas has any reason to trust the things that liberals say about conservatives? Or do you think that perhaps Mrs. Thomas would be more inclined to trust the judgment of such of our mutual friends as Kate Obenshain, Ron Robinson and Ward Connerly?

People know me, and the people who know me will tell you one thing about me: That dude's crazy. So if worse comes to worse, I can always plead insanity.

It's my birthday -- you're welcome to hit the tip jar, you ungrateful b*stards -- and there's no need to belabor the obvious any further. However, if you'll read through Smitty's post from this morning, you'll notice the photo of my inscription on the title page of Donkey Cons. As always, below my signature, I included the citation to a Bible verse:

Seest though a man diligent in his work? He shall stand before kings, and his place shall not be among ordinary men.
-- Proverbs 22:29

Claim the promise, as they say. Step out on faith. If you doubt the promise, go to Christ Church in Philadelphia and see the grave of "Benjamin Franklin, Printer."

Shama-lama-ding-dong, baby!

It Started with Simple Anatomical Admiration, or, How I Got Lured Into Hanging out with Someone Whom I Believed to be a Wide Supra-Machinist

by Smitty

2008: Genesis
It may not have been my first comment on this blog, but it was close. "Equality Is For Ugly Losers" was the post title of 02Aug08, 14 months and several lifetimes ago. Concise. Direct. Suicidal. This is a blogger with sack, thought I. What if we encourage this behavior? Dispatching da dogs d'alliteration, I commented.

This seemingly innocent jest of a comment upon the shape of things proved the line of demarcation past which the slope gets slippery. Poring over the records meticulously stuffed into a milk crate over in corner of the porch, I see that my first actual meeting with Stacy was 03Oct08, for the screening of "An American Carol". This should have been a huge, red warning sign. The movie was rife with extremism, including that known reactionary, Jon Voight. Yet there was Stacy, finding me in the crowd by means of my USS Constitution ballcap, holding forth hope for an America that will simply never again be. Stacy had other plans.

Early 2009: Evansayeticus
Sure, I chatted Stacy up a bit on Blogger Row at CPAC. In general, it was a great time and one to meet various others who are nearly as notorious. Could one have foreseen it was a set up? No. One can always pour a watery beverage into the rose-colored glasses of 20/20 hindsight, but vodka makes a Cossack limp as it goes under the bridge, they say. Don't they say that? Never mind.

The real trap was sprung at the Headquarters of the Vast Right Wing Legion of Conservative Doom: The Heritage Foundation. I'd been quite a fan of Evan Sayet, based upon his seemingly straightforward 2006 YouTube outing. That was merely a lure. Bait for rubes. Like me. On Evan's blog, he mentioned that he was going to update his talk, a day or so after CPAC. It seemed reasonable to alert Stacy to the event, as I'd been unable to secure his autograph in my copy of Donkey Cons at CPAC. My Freud Proust (first post, for those who aren't Slashdotters) to the blog ensued.

Once Stacy had set the hook, he said "I've got to give you posting rights on the blog."

I replied "You remind me of someone with whom I once got into a lot of trouble."

The OMCL was already targeting me.

Summer 2009: FMJRAtion and Numbers. For example: 5
Writing is bodybuilding. Words are weights. Stacy is Lou Ferrigno with a keyboard. And mad ambitions. "If they bring a link, you bring a reach-around," decreed Stacy. How did I miss the mental instability? Trotting out an army of clone-bots, I found myself feverishly querying Technorati for links, all in the service of Stacy's insane quest for world domination. The FMJRA remains a labor of love and a signature post for this blog. Not content with just that level of browser-busting, Stacy demanded more. A Sunday "Rule 5" post, to show that even a diabolical madman bent on making "Freebird" the National Anthem can still maintain an appreciation for both aesthetics and chicks.

We built upon the steady power of the FMJRA and the Rule 5 Sunday postings. We fed on Stacy's virtuoso forays into verbal sparring with a seemingly endless array of characters on the blogs. We were awed to have been honored not only by Instalanches but even an extremely rare Day-by-Day-lanch. What is this--Stacy's birthday? I was kept in the dark at all times. It was not made clear that all of these hits were feeding the growing power of the Semi-Conscious Liberation Army.

Fall 2009: Don'tellonme
The recent outing of Stacy by a certain Mad Cow as a Wide Supra-Machinist essentially caused the whole plan to 'splode. My head as well. Like a government manufactured firework prematurely and chaotically ejaculating its contents into the sky, the planned takeover of the GOP by clone bots and the SCLA simply crumbled. The dots, once connected, revealed that what the dupes thought was a Toyota Supra fleet was in fact a gaggle of cleverly disguised Chevy Citations with more flaws than the legislation of the current Congress, all held together by bumper stickers. A serious threat to the hegemony of Brooks, Frum, Dreher, and Friedersdorf this sad armada was not. All of the dreams, plans, resources, networks, and, predictably, the loot, simply vanished. The sleeper cells dozed on, oblivious.

Even the best diabolical plans can be tripped up at the last second from an unexpected angle. He would have gotten away with it too, if it wasn't for that meddling Maddow kid.

Dear Nigel Horne

My good friend Eric Dondero of Libertarian Republican brought to my attention your recent article:

For the past 10 years, [Lynn] Vincent has been working for the Christian-based World magazine, from which she took time off to work on Palin's book. She is a creationist and strongly anti-abortion, the subject of many of her World columns.
She is also staunchly anti-gay, backing the controversial vote to re-criminalise gay marriage in California, and - this is where Palin and her publishers might have drawn the line, but didn't - she is closely associated with a well-known white supremacist.

Et cetera, et cetera, the repetition of the Ransom Note Method, based upon . . . well, what, really? What is your authority for this assertion that I am either "well-known" or a "white supremacist," let alone a "well-known white supremacist"? Do you believe everything you read on the Internet, Mr. Horne?

So far as I am aware, sir, you never contacted me in an attempt to verify the content of your article. Nor am I aware that you have spoken to any of my family, friends, neighbors or colleagues.

While I am not litigious by nature -- my views being rather Jacksonian in that regard -- perhaps Governor Palin, Mrs. Vincent and their publishers have different views. It is my understanding that British libel law is far more inclined toward the plaintiffs than is true here in the United States, especially for "public figures" as covered under the U.S. Sullivan precedent.

Should Mrs. Vincent retain the services of a British attorney, I suspect that your publisher would be advised to settle the suit at any sum asked, as it would be quite impossible to prove that Mrs. Vincent is "closely associated with a well-known white supremacist," which I most assuredly am not, no matter what any particular idiot has published to that effect or how often it has been repeated.

Think of the cost to your publisher, Felix Dennis, of flying Charles Johnson, Michelangelo Signorile, Rachel Maddow, et al., to London for a libel trial, sir. Ask yourself how such witnesses might stand up under cross-examination, or what witnesses might be called to attest to the plaintiffs' good character and goodwill vis-a-vis harmonious, free and peaceful race relations.

Here in the United States, we have enshrined in the Fifth Amendment of our Constitution an ancient principle of English common law, whereby the fact that I have not chosen publicly to address any specific defamatory accusation against me cannot be taken as evidence that the undenied accusation is true.

Were it otherwise, every citizen would be compelled constantly to disprove any malicious thing said or written about them, lest it be considered to be fact that, for example, Nigel Horne is a notorious syphilitic poofter.

What accusation of secret vice might the executive editor of The First Post be compelled to deny or repudiate? Nigel Horne is a pedophile, who buggers boy prostitutes while on holiday in Phuket? Nigel Horne is a pornography freak, whose hard-drive is crammed full of the most vile photos and videos imaginable? Nigel Horne is a heroin addict, who supports his habit by embezzling from his employers?

You see there is no end to the mischief that might ensue if journalists were to adopt a habit of recklessly repeating accusations that the accused would then be required to disprove.

Having worked since 1986 as a professional journalist, my acquaintance with the principles of the craft -- including the avoidance of malicious libel -- is such that I am frankly horrified at the heinous malpractice by which you disgrace your employer and yourself.

Allow me to suggest that it is high time you sought treatment for that syphilis infection, Mr. Horne.

Sincerely,
Robert Stacy McCain

The time is now!

by Smitty

Vote for #9

Iowahawk's STEEL CAGE ART DEATH MATCH has reached the "Ballotdome Smackdown" stage:

And let me say how completely astonished I was by the quality of the entries. Because frankly, I've always had a very low opinion of Iowahawk readers. As it turns out many of you are extremely talented! It makes me proud as the patron of this award competition, and enthusiastic about the other acts I think I could get you to perform for modest amounts of cash.

Vote for #9 again

The fact that the only really important entry is losing to a single, racist pixel has me feeling like Barack Obama getting eaten on Danish soil. Or a soiled Barack Obama eating a Danish. Or a Danish eatery soiling Barack Obama. It's all so confusing. Help me.

Don't forget to Vote for #9

UPDATE: for the old-fashioned types who actually want to Read The Fine Legislation before voting (a sentiment that is soooo last-administration), the sublime outing that is #9 can be seen in its feral glory here.

A Mission for Jason Mattera . . .

That is, if you think you could handle this mission:

Not, that's not Hannah Giles. Lindsay Lohan says she's a lesbian, but I heard she broke up with her girlfriend, and when I saw this linked at Conservative Grapevine, it occurred to me that you're splitsville with Suzanna Logan now, so . . .

C'mon, Big Sexy. "Win one for the Gipper," eh?

Once you've got Lindsay wrapped, your next assignment . . . Well, let's just say a little birdy at 30 Rock tells me that someone's been doodling in her notebook like a sixth-grade schoolgirl.

Mrs. Jason Mattera
R. M. Mattera
Rachel Mattera
Rachel M. Mattera
Rachel Maddow-Mattera . . .

Show her some of that Brooklyn action, old buddy. IYKWIMAITYD. Because, as everybody knows, once they've had Puerto Rican, they never go back.

Wisconsinians can't spell

It's a hateful stereotype, I know, but when a cheesehead Republican wants to sing your praises, don't expect him to spell your name right . . .

SIGTARP bites again!

Bailout Watchdog Says Treasury and Fed Knew Bailed-Out Banks Were Not Healthy

Michelle Malkin blogs it. Via Memeorandum. Background: "The War on Watchdogs," September print issue, The American Spectator.

No time for more. Hit tip jar. Kids demanding slushies now. Will update . . .

Kentucky Killing: More Sparkman theories

BTW, I've seen the fax that contains this theory and figured it was from a complete nut, but JSH at Unusual Kentucky decides to fisk it anyway:

Things just keep getting weirder in the case of Bill Sparkman, a U.S. Census worker whose corpse was found tied, naked and asphyxiated by a rope in Clay County's Hoskins Cemetery.
The Times-Tribune is reporting that they've received a fax regarding Sparkman titled "I Did It" which seems to state that he was killed because he was working for the Federal Government. The fax has been turned over to the FBI. . . .
Fascinating as it sounds, I really can't buy the theory that Sparkman was romping around naked in cemeteries performing acts of Carradine-style sexual self-asphyxiation. . . .

SPECIAL REPORT: Death in Clay County, Part I