You Are Dumb, which is not a blog, posts new columns every weekday, except for a couple of days each month when it doesn't. It is also a Twitter feed, @youaredumb, with content in a similar vein but much shorter. My spinoff food site, Forkbastard, can be found easily enough by the clever.
Archive - Aug 2008
Memo to Dan Riehl: YOU ARE FINALLY DUMB.
Well, actually, I'm guessing you were always dumb and will always be dumb. I just can't believe it's taken me this long to get around to you. But both my own search and Google says I haven't, and that's good enough for me. Dan Riehl is the proprietor of the unfortunately-named Riehl World View, a right-wing blog I often see referenced on left-wing blogs as an example of a right-wing blog that shows how hilariously stupid right-wing blogs can be.
This week, in honor of his chosen party's rampant human rights abuses over the past four years, Dan Riehl decided to pick up a metaphor on the battlefield, declare it an enemy combatant, pack it in a plane, ship it off to Eastern Europe, and torture it until it goes insane and confesses to the Kennedy assassination. ACTUAL QUOTE TIME!
"A series of events are coming together to create, perhaps not a perfect storm, but certainly in-climate weather for Barack Obama given that he hoped to capture lightening in a bottle with a rhetorical whirlwind Thursday night at Invesco Stadium."
That's the FIRST SENTENCE. Let's run the numbers. One misspelling. One not having the slightest fucking clue what the actual word is. Seriously. "In-climate weather?" Not only is that not the word, it's completely redundant. What exactly would the weather be that's OUT of the climate? Some kind of outer-space hail? Oh, and one reference to a shit-ass movie. All in service of a version of events so far from reality it should be wearing a gold vest and a goatee.*
"Hillary Clinton, who endorsed an agenda last night in Denver which included at least slight personal praise for John McCain, yet yielded no such thing for Barack Obama. The second big wave to crash into him is coming tomorrow with Hillary's, even if sometimes inappropriately engorged, lessor half."
Clearly, Riehl didn't read any transcripts of Hillary's speech - he just extrapolated her primary behavior into the future. And speaking of predicting the future, I am typing this while Bill Clinton is speaking. Normally I wouldn't bother, but I wanted to see if there was any way a nitpicking parser could interpret Bubba's words in a way favorable to Riehl's predictions, and, um, no. There isn't. Sorry, but you're going to have to borrow a magnetic poetry set from Megyn Kelly so you can change all the words.
But the joy of Dan Riehl is not in his being wrong, like when he praises John McCain's masterful plan to announce his VP candidate on Friday. It's in the way he likes to pretend to be an erudite pundit. He's like a six-year-old kid pretending to be Superman. He's got the towel around his neck and his underwear over his pants, but will he jump off the roof, thinking he can fly?
"If I might slip my metaphor here, one almost senses John McCain and, to some extent, the Clintons are playing Chess while Obama is left to play Checkers - jumping up on to a podium so some number of Democrats can crown him king, thereby feeding into the very celebrity meme McCain has been beating him up with for weeks... And to think, this was his big chance to shine. All that's needed now is a cloud burst Thursday night, which, if nothing else, would at least hide the tears generated as a result."
Oooh, that's gotta hurt. Crotch-first into a poison ivy hedge. And the neighbor's dog is peeing on him. First of all, never pick up a second metaphor after you've impaled yourself on the first one. It won't help. Second, in the world we live in, the one that Dan Riehl views through a two-way funhouse mirror, the celebrity ads weren't a beating, they were a full-on nerd slapfight, complete with WINDMILL PUNCH. People stopped to watch, yeah, but unless they were the nerd's best friends, they didn't come away impressed.
I don't know what to make of Riehl's fantasy of Obama standing in the rain, crying. I can only assume that in his formative years, a just-dumped Riehl tried to recreate the Peter Gabriel scene from Say Anything, only to have all ten of the C-cell batteries in his boom box course through his body, causing the irreparable brain damage and concurrent grasp of imagery that would turn him, years later, into a wingnut blogger.
*I -wasn't- trying to see how many columns in a row I could work a Trek reference into, but now that I've noticed it's happening, it's difficult to stop.