You Are Dumb, which is not a blog, posts new columns every weekday, except for most Tuesdays and the occasional fuckbotch. It is also a Twitter feed, @youaredumb, with content in a similar vein but much shorter. For a take on what a blog by me would be like, check out OLDNERD.
Archive - Mar 5, 2008
Memo to the Fourth Estate: YOU ARE A CHEAP DATE.
This, by the way, is why I wake up screaming when I think about the presidential election. And the ways that the Democrats can dance through a field of flowers and still come out smelling like shit.
Look at how the candidates handle press relations. Hillary Clinton deduces, correctly, that the press is treating her less than fairly. So she calls them on it, sometimes seriously, and sometimes in this weird, passive-aggressive jokey way. Then she goes onto Saturday Night Live for three minutes of safe, self-deprecating pseudo-comedy. Net result? At best, an awkward, uncomfortable silence.
John McCain deduces, also correctly, that if the bad press continues about his secret love of lobbyists and his endorsement from a guy so crazy stupid he deserves his own column, it might hurt him. So he throws a FUCKING BARBECUE for the press. And they go! And he cooks for them! Net result? disgusting, fawning stories about it! Check this shit out, from Reuters. ACTUAL HEADLINE TIME!
"McCain turns tables and grills (for) reporters"
Um, Reuters? Grilling isn't turning the tables. If he'd gotten out a leaf blower and pointed the business end at the press corps, that might be turning the tables. Because you lot have been blowing him since 2000, and his latest hot beef injection* should keep that action coming until November. Don't believe me? Well here's how Jeff Mason's Reuters piece ended:
"So how did they taste? Objectivity prohibits a good reporter from passing judgement [sic; sick], but let’s put it this way: everyone wants to come back."
Oh, I bet they do. How the fuck can political reporters go to something like this, and still somehow maintain their credibility, jobs, or self-respect? Check out how the Washington Post's Michael Shear described it:
"Dressed in jeans, an L.L. Bean baseball cap, sunglasses and a sweat shirt featuring a picture of his family, McCain held court the way he does almost daily aboard his "Straight Talk Express" bus. While the afternoon barbecue for the media was technically on the record, tape recorders were prohibited, as was taking pictures for publication, and McCain aides repeatedly urged reporters to put away the notebooks."
That is some serious Dubya-circa-2000 level bullshit there, and the only way it can work is if reporters willingly line up, take what they're being fed, and spray the resulting mudbutt all over their readership. A.K.A. post-millenial political reportage in a nutshell.
That's the McCain black magic, though. Somehow taking a warmed-over turd nobody with Google should believe for more than ten seconds, smothering it with Maverick Brand Barbecue Sauce And Grilling Marinade, and suddenly, there aren't any Charlton Hestons to tell us that Soylent Straight Talk is made of poople.
It's infinitely disappointing and infinitely predictable. Well, except for the way Shear lies to himself in one of the shiniest exhibits in the Rationalization Hall Of Fame:
"The lighthearted mood is likely to fade quickly if he gets enough delegates to lay claim to his party's nomination in contests in Texas and Ohio on Tuesday. As the nominee, he will almost certainly be on, rather than overseeing, the grill."
Yeah, Mike. That's what held you back. Now that you're finally positive Mike Huckabee isn't going to get that miracle he says he majored in, you're really going to dig in and do your fucking job. There's no way, now that McCain has gotten those last few delegates to officially put him over the top, that you'll want to keep sucking that juicy meat off the bone. We'll just sit back and wait for you to kick it into high. Pardon us for not holding our breath, but we really like oxygen.
* It may have been a long, slow porking. The news coverage only mentioned baby back ribs. There was also chicken involved, unless McCain just told them there was chicken, and they believed him even though they didn't eat any, or see anyone else eating it.