Not Alrighta

« June 2007 »

Memo to Ann Althouse: YOU ARE DUMB.

Allow me to take a moment and briefly define some important words here. Words like "talent". Words like "skill". Words like "accomplishment". Because it's obvious you, and others like you, have no idea what the fuck these words mean.

Talent is the ability to do something, usually artistic. Skill is the ability to do something, usually technical. Accomplishment is the act of actually fucking doing something. All these terms have a certain threshold to become operative - a certain bar to clear before they can be applied to you. A bar you keep hitting your head on, creating a hollow thumping sound like a rotten musk melon.

Being stupid is not a talent. Saying stupid shit is not a skill. And having a large number of people point and laugh at you because of the stupid shit you said is not an accomplishment. Your hug and your cookie do not make you an Olympic gold medalist.

The criminally insipid always do this when they get busted for first degree moron. The "I was being stupid on purpose" defense. Here's the Althouse version. ACTUAL QUOTE TIME!

"I'm saying outright: Come on, everybody, into the vortex. And in they hop. It's an anti-Althousiana fest. I love it!"

OK, first of all, as a proud wielder of the mighty neologism, there oughta be a special wing at Gitmo for people who build Lovecraftian beasts like "anti-Althousiana". While the intent may have been to reduce the people pointing out her stupid shit to tchotchkes sitting on a shelf, the end result looks like she thinks there's an entire flooded state full of people who think she's a dumbass.

It's just an Internet twist on Dan Quayle's scorn-badge. It's Usenet trolling circa 1996 - you know, before it got sophisticated. And it is, by far, the most irritating defense in the sphere of public discourse.

I mean, pretty much the entire left-wing blogosphere exists to point out and spread far and wide the stupid shit stupid people say. Oh, sure, there's the occasional bit of in-depth political analysis, but for the most part it's pointing and laughing at the intellectually stunted. For her next trick, Ann Althouse should put on a beret, white face makeup, and a striped shirt and walk around the streets of Paris not saying anything. Then she can return to America with hilarious tales about how everyone thought she was a mime. GENIUS.

I suppose, for those of you whose lives are blissfully spent not reading about this shit until I bring it to your attention, I should mention just what it was that Althouse said to trick everyone into thinking she was a fucking doofus. The context was the new Hillary Clinton campaign video, a painful parody of the final episode of the Sopranos.

Actually, a quick aside here. For the record, the window for parodying the final episode of the Sopranos was exactly five and a half hours, and started the instant the Journey song stopped. That's when the boat sailed. If you weren't on the boat, I don't want to see you swimming after it. Just go back to making World of Warcraft music videos to post on YouTube.

Back to the campaign video. Althouse takes a closer look at one exchange between Hillary and Bill:

"Bill says 'No onion rings?' and Hillary responds 'I'm looking out for ya.' Now, the script says onion rings, because that's what the Sopranos were eating in that final scene, but I doubt if any blogger will disagree with my assertion that, coming from Bill Clinton, the "O" of an onion ring is a vagina symbol. Hillary says no to that, driving the symbolism home. She's 'looking out' all right, vigilant over her husband, denying him the sustenance he craves. What does she have for him? Carrot sticks! The one closest to the camera has a rather disgusting greasy sheen to it. Here, Bill, in retaliation for all of your excessive 'O' consumption, you may have a large bowl of phallic symbols!"

That's an interpretation that would get you thrown out of any Comedy Court in the nation. In the world of trite, Leno-level presidential foible comedy, there is a strict hierarchy that must be followed. And while "Bubba Loves Poontang" is way up on that list, "Bubba Loves Junk Food" is the rock to its scissors. It's the universal go-to when the kiddies or prudes might be listening. Sometimes an onion ring is just a deep-fried, ventrically-lodged vegetal circle.

I think we can safely draw two solid conclusions from this whole mess. First, Ann Althouse is an idiot. And second, Ann Althouse has never tried to fuck an onion ring. Because it only takes about a second and a half to disabuse oneself of the notion that they're ANYTHING like vaginas.