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.
Welcome to a special Numerical Predictions edition of Spastic Topic Monkey Friday. The way this works is, I pick a number, then follow it with a prediction about the future based on that number. Each individual prediction is then an excuse to talk about some minor irritant that pissed me off about two paragraphs worth in the past couple of days, forming a framework on which I build the column. It's blatant trickery, but if you promise to overlook it, I'll promise you a joke about polar bear dicks at the end. Deal? Deal.
The number of weeks that will elapse before Don Imus will have a new gig with a new radio company to do a new radio talk show. Come on, you think he's gone forever? You think losing your job in disgrace after making stupid racist remarks disqualifies you from radio? Hell, it doesn't disqualify you from cable news, and radio's at least three chickens below that in the media pecking order.
This is America. And in America, there is an audience for stupid racist bullshit. And where there is an audience, there is programming, and where there is programming, there's a job for Imus. Right next to Savage and Limbaugh and Bennett and Hannity and Miller. As Yoda said, failure leads to bitterness, bitterness leads to hatred, and hatred leads to drive-time. Or he would have if I'd gotten to write Phantom Menace*.
The minimum number of television pundits who will, at some point in the week, express the sentiment that "there's no real crime here" or its equivalent in regards to the Bush administration using a Republican National Committee e-mail system for shady government business (like the Attorney Scandal) and then "accidentally" realizing they deleted millions of those self-same e-mails just when Congress asked for them.
It is, after all, a clear violation of both the letter and the spirit of the Presidential Records Act, a law which caused the official White House e-mail system to keep everything automatically, which is of course why they didn't want to use it. It's transparently crooked to even the densest partisan hack, and thus, will find at least four defenders, and possibly more, because that's how this shit works. Crazy people in ties go on the teevee and say crazy things, and we believe them BECAUSE THEY'RE WEARING TIES AND ON THE TEEVEE.
The number of local asshats thinking they're going to be clever and make snide comments about global warming because it snowed in Minneapolis this week. It may not actually be forty billion. I started extrapolating based on how many already have, but then I got really pissed off and kind of lost track. So I'm making a rough estimate, dividing my total anger level by the approximate amount one of these asshats pisses me off. And I got forty billion. Yes, I carried the two.
It's bad politics. It's execrable science. But most importantly, it's completely indefensible as comedy. It's the kind of joke Dane Cook would look at and ask, "Hasn't that been done to death?" It's the kind of joke Carlos Mencia would look at and say, "I thought of that next week." It's the kind of behavior that ought to carry an automatic penalty of rectal violation with an icicle, and ought to carry it soon, while there are, you know. Still icicles left somewhere.
I would have said raped by a polar bear, but they'll be gone even sooner, and anyway, all the pollution has made all their genitals shrink, so it's less effective as a deterrent. So icicles it'll have to be. We'll need about forty billion by my last count.
*Also, "YIPPEE!" would have been replaced by "FUCK YEAH!". Because Darth Vader should have had a filthy fucking mouth as a child. You know, as foreshadowing. Plus then we'd know what the C and P in C3P0 stood for.