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.
Memo to Tony Snow: GIVE ME A FUCKING BREAK.
And that goes for you in the media, too. What the fuck? What the fucking fuck? One crying jag over a yellow wristband and suddenly Tony Snow is no longer the obstacle between you and useful information, he's a vulnerable man with a heartwrenching story you have to coddle on his first day?
The only thing more irritating than Snow's Barbara Walters moment was the fact that it worked so damn well. Tears must be the press's Kryptonite. Remember John Roberts' wife? There was a time when politicians were crucified for crying. Just ask Pat Schroeder. But not now.
You got PLAYED, motherfuckers. You got played like an X-Box on Christmas Day. You just took the gold medal in the hundred meter sucker.
So Tony Snow beat colon cancer. Big fucking whoop. I mean, I'm sure it wasn't pleasant for him, but he was a very well-paid commentator for many years. I'm sure he had health insurance. And if he's really that traumatized about almost being destroyed by an asshole, how does he think the rest of us feel about his boss?
And for fuck's sake, a Lance Armstrong Live Strong wristband? TRITE. You'd think those present would have figured out the fix was in when Snow made the second-biggest blunder of his press conference. ACTUAL QUOTE TIME!
"I actually had a chance to talk today with Lance Anderson..."
Maybe you should get a bracelet that says LIVE WRONG. Maybe fucking up the name of your inspirational cancer survivor role model ought to cost you at least half of your oh-so-very-hard-won sympathy. And then maybe you wouldn't be getting a pass from every major news organization so far for the Big Blunder. ACTUAL QUOTE TIME REDUX!
"I don't want to hug the tar baby of trying to comment on the program -- the alleged program -- the existence of which I can neither confirm nor deny."
Now, I will grant that "tar baby", in the all-time annals of racist slurs, is a bit of a Shemp. But Shemp was still a Stooge. It's precisely the kind of thing a middle aged rich white conservative who thinks racism is no longer a problem in America would throw out without thinking.
But Snow gets a pass on it, because he's new and he had cancer and he has a stretchy yellow wristband to remind himself how fortunate he is to be able to protect the worst President in the entire universe with his crocodile tears.
One press conference down, and I already miss Scott McLellan. Heckuva job, Snowy.