A look at Stacy's CA trip

by Smitty (h/t Dodgeblogium)

Just a little peep at how much fun Stacy will be having at the airport while making his way west to see Alabama play:

The clip is from David Zucker's An American Carol. The screening for that flick in Arlington, VA is where I first met Stacy McCain, ~16 months and a few lifetimes ago.

Props to the readers who've supported his westward venture.
Update: Diversity Lane piling on,

Decades Later...

by Smitty (h/t Miss Cellania)

Decades later, surrounded by his goth grandchildren, Stacy could only look at the brood and know that his co-blogger, Smitty, was somehow responsible . . .

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.

Who is Robert Stacy McCain?

Glad you asked! I've been meaning to write one of these "who is" posts for about . . . oh, forever. But I kept putting it off, because writing about me has never been something I was good at. Between August 1987 and January 2008, I changed employers exactly once. Why? Because I hate writing resumes and filling out applications. It feels like bragging.

I'd much rather just do the work and get credit for that, than to spend my time composing self-glorifying profiles of myself like some kind of ambitious arriviste social-climber. However, since you're interested, here's the thumbnail bio:

• Born in Atlanta in 1959, grew up in Douglas County, Ga., graduated from Jacksonville (Ala.) State University in 1983.
• Started journalism career in April 1986 at the 6,000-circulation weekly Cobb News Chronicle in Austell, Ga., earning $4.50 an hour as a staff writer. Next worked (Dec. 1986-July 1987) as a sports editor for the Marietta, Ga.-based Neighbor Newspapers. Sports editor for the twice-weekly Calhoun (Ga.) Times, September 1987-May 1991. Transferred to News Publishing Company's flagship daily, Rome (Ga.) News-Tribune, in June 1991, where I worked for special projects/editorial page editor Pierre Rene-Noth.
• In 1996, I was awarded the George Washington Medal from the Freedoms Foundation at Valley Forge for my series of columns on the controversial National Standards for U.S. History.
• In November 1997, I was hired by The Washington Times as an assistant national editor, and subsequently became editor of the newspaper's "Culture, Etc." page.
• During my years at the Times, I developed a knack for producing feature profiles of prominent personalities. I interviewed such notable newsmakers as John Stossel, David Horowitz, Peter Jennings, Wendy Shalit, Ronald Radosh, R. Emmett Tyrrell, Tammy Bruce, Andrew Breitbart, William J. Bennett, Phyllis Chesler, Ward Connerly, Michael Savage, Roger L. Simon, Dinesh D'Souza, L. Brent Bozell III, Ann Coulter, Michelle Malkin and Cal Thomas.
• When former President Ronald Reagan died in June 2004, I was the guy assigned to write the memorial article that appeared as a special feature in The Washington Times.
• In 2006, my old friend Lynn Vincent (World Magazine) and I co-authored Donkey Cons: Sex, Crime, and Corruption in the Democratic Party, the most complete history of its kind ever written. It was praised by David Horowitz as "irresistible," while historian Thomas Woods hailed it as "relentless and stunning." And the MSM politely ignored it.
• Since I've got a face for radio, I'm not one of those celebrity pundits whose thumbnail bio includes ". . . has appeared on Fox News, MSNBC, CNN, VH-1, Home Shopping Network . . ." I've made exactly one appearance on C-SPAN2's Book TV, but I've done a ton of talk-radio, and have recently begun doing weekly spots on the G. Gordon Liddy Show.
• In January 2008, I resigned from The Washington Times. My reasons for resigning were multiple. I had been contracted to work on a book-research project that required me to travel to Africa, and it was very difficult to fit that project into my work schedule at the newspaper. Then one day, it was announced that (a) Wes Pruden would retire as editor, (b) managing editor Francis B. Coombs would resign, and (c) John Solomon would take over as executive editor of the newspaper.
  People whose judgment I trust assured me that Solomon was a good guy. However, he came from The Washington Post and, as one of my co-workers remarked to me when this news was announced, "If I'd wanted to work for a Postie, I would have applied at the f---ing Post." I despise the Washington Post with every cell of my being, nearly as much as I despise the New York Times, a contempt quite sufficient to encompass every person who has ever been associated with those institutions of evil.
  Also, it occurred to me that, over the next 90-120 days, Solomon would be evaluating the productivity of the newsroom staff, during a period when I'd be bogged down with the book project. So I could quit now, and leave on good terms, or risk being s---canned at some point in the future. After consulting with my wife and praying together earnestly, I decided I needed to quit or, as I said at time, "God said, 'Go.'" And I went.
• Yes, I said "praying together earnestly." Wretched reprobate though I may be, yet I know that God is merciful and gracious to those who love Him. I acknowledge Him too rarely, and disobey Him too often, and if you're looking for a Christian role model, please don't look at me. If asked to describe myself by denomination or theology, I'd say "Bible-thumping hillbilly holy roller." I'm a backslid Baptist married to a Seventh-Day Adventist, but I'm basically a hard-shell Calvinist who leans on The Word (see Romans, Chapter 8) and doesn't much care for legalism or the Theology of Niceness that has infested the evangelical movement in recent years. Martin Luther, John Calvin, Oliver Cromwell and Jonathan Edwards did not subscribe to the Theology of Niceness.
• After returning from Africa and ending my research project, in March 2008 I began blogging regularly, concentrating on the presidential campaign, which I also covered as a reporter/columnist for The American Spectator and Pajamas Media. My reporting on the Libertarian Party convention in Denver was praised by Rocky Mountain News columnist Dave Kopel as "the best national coverage" of that event.
• I've recently begun writing a series of columns on love, sex and marriage for Taki's Magazine. This has raised some eyebrows among my neoconservative friends, given that Taki Theodoracopulos is known as one of those "Unpatriotic Conservatives" famously condemned by David Frum. Well, politics is politics. Many of my dearest kindred are Democrats -- including my cousin Pepper Ellis Hagebak, columnist for the LaGrange (Ga.) News -- shall I repudiate them? If Taki, who has been relentlessly smeared as an anti-Semite, is willing to pay for contributions by the man considered Most Likely to Become First Gentile Prime Minister of Israel, should not he be praised and admired for his generous tolerance of a bloodthirsty Zionist like me? As I once explained to Rod Dreher, I write for money, and when God answers prayer, a wise man ought to consider that the answer may involve a lesson.
• On Feb. 13, 2009, my cumulative traffic passed the 1-million hits milestone, which inspired the semi-humorous celebration, "How to Get a Million Hits on Your Blog in Less Than a Year," the surprising popularity of which has given me a nice boost toward my second million hits. Learn it, love it, live it.
• I am one of the most accessible people on the blogosphere. E-mail me, Facebook me, Twitter me. As we used to say in college, "Hit me, beat me, get me drunk and rape me, make me write bad checks and call me Helen." I've been abused by the best, so be advised that your idiotic troll-flames are incapable of damaging a two-time "Malkin Award" nominee. You can come after me any way you want, but be advised that you're messing with the Ninja master of ad-hominem invective. And the comments are moderated, assholes.
• The "racist" smear. A long, long story that began on May 9, 2000, when I published a news feature with the headline, "Researchers Say 'Watchdogs' Exaggerate Hate Group Threat." When the smears started, my bosses decided that the best response was a non-response. The smears were thus elaborated year after year on the Internet, errors compounding on lies with additions of libels and distortions, like a metastasizing cancer.
  Had I been permitted to respond initially in my own defense . . . well, "if" is the largest two-letter word. Trying to unravel it all at this late date would be a waste of time and energy.
  Along the way, I've discovered the amazing professional value of a bad reputation. Being notorious is not the same as being famous, but it's better than being anonymous. The harm to my career and my reputation was more than recompensed by the acquisition of virtuous character attributed to A Man Who Has The Right Enemies -- the same parasitical assassins who attack me have also attacked inter alia Michelle Malkin, Rush Limbaugh, Ann Coulter, David Horowitz, Mark Steyn, Kathy Shaidle and other worthy souls more eminent than myself.
  At this point, if it pleases anyone to think of me as a neo-Confederate white supremacist xenophobic bigoted nativist hatemonger, the accusation is too delicious to deny and if anyone wants the full explanation, they can pay me for it. (I write for money.)
• Speaking of money, it has from Day One been my thought that blogging is a capitalist enterprise. I joke a lot about my financial plight -- the ACORN protesters are trying to keep the repo man from towing my car -- but it is nonetheless not a joke that I have to earn a living for myself, my beautiful wife and our six children. So . . .
  Hit the tip jar. Or buy an "Ordinary American" T-shirt. Or, when I link a book from my Amazon Associates account, buy the book and know that a small percentage of the purchase price will be paid to me as a commission. I'm a shameless tip-jar rattler, and don't mind asking for the cash. (It's For The Children!)
  Once upon a time (and I was a loyal Democrat back then) I worked briefly as a DJ in a strip joint on Atlanta's Fulton Industrial Boulevard, and if things got slow, I'd announce between songs, "Guys, if you ain't tippin', the ladies ain't strippin'! So get up off your a$$, pull out some cash, get up to the stage and put something green in the lovely lady's garter!" A man can learn more about pure capitalism working in a strip joint than he'll ever learn at Harvard Business School.

OK, so that's it. I'm Old School in the New Media. I'm available for freelance assignments, communications consulting, public speaking engagements, karaoke parties, weddings, birthdays and bar-mitzvahs. I might come back to expand or update this later, but I must conclude with a legal disclaimer required by the Blogger Board Of Ethics:

DO NOT ATTEMPT THIS AT HOME. This Man Is a Trained Professional Journalist Who Is Neutral, Objective And Ethical. Keep This Blog Away From Children, Pregnant Women, and Persons With Heart Conditions. The Proprietors Of The Other McCain Are Not Responsible For Accidental Injuries Resulting From This Blog, Including Computer Damage Caused By Spontaneous Coffee-Spew. No Hotties Were Harmed In The Production Of This Blog. Do Not Fold, Spindle Or Mutilate. Do Not Remove This Tag Under Penalty Of Law. ALL YOUR LINKS ARE BELONG TO US.

Heh.

Who Is Frequent Commenter Smitty?
No one really knows the answer to this question. Way back when this blog was nothing, Smitty started popping up regularly in the comment fields. Then one day, a man in a bowtie appeared at a Heritage Foundation event, and introduced himself as Smitty. Given permission to post as an admin, on only his second post, he did a reference to Cthulhu that earned him an Instalanche. With that kind of track record, it's probably only a matter of time before he demands a cut of the tip-jar proceeds. At which point . . . well, let's not think about that doomsday scenario, eh?