A Description of a Really Nice Sausage
Friday, October 08, 2004
  Bookended By as it turns out two kind of interesting media events: last night with the appearance of Bill O'Reilly on the Daily Show, and tonight with another televised beating of a mentally retarded person by an old, smoky vet.

O'Reilly I know chiefly through efforts to get me to dislike him -- esp. Outfoxed, and of course Mr. Franken, which -- funny stuff, is all I'm saying. I also know him through an interview out on which he walked with Terri Gross on NPR's Fresh Air a few months ago, in which it really seemed as if the man could not cope with the loss of power his studio affords him.

But to my surprise he seemed unduly civil and nonrectal when chatting with Jon, which maybe it's 'cause Jon, not having a father who died under the World Trade Center, was too big a target for O'Reilly to pick on, or maybe because he and Jon are actually friendly and it's possible people aren't the silhouettes we drew of them on a lonely Saturday night without a date. Imagine that -- people who act differently in different contexts. I'm like a fuckin' hippie.

So but thinking about W in that way is maddening because my life -- like most other people's -- has spots devoid of passion and love which the act of REALLY REALLY IRRATIONALLY HATING someone else fills quite nicely, like a sort of cosmetic putty that goes down real smooth. And the term irrational has more to do with my conviction that little if anything humans do germinates of necessity than any casual notion that W doesn't deserve at least some -- a skosh, a teeny-weeny freakin' bit -- of the custom gumbo vitriol I've been cooking for years. Leave it to others to provide ample reasons -- I try not to belabor the obvious.

And also bearing in mind how some guy got going on Slashdot the other day and infuriated me by leading-by-leash the gruff old mongrel dog of the Green Party, "There's no difference between the two major candidates," and how, C'MON, if you honestly think the same bad legislation, the same cream-puff Gestapo, the same unpopular Hollywood sequel staged as a Middle Eastern farce could sprouted from John Kerry, then I think the mushrooms' caps' slight resemblance may have misled you into thinking both just as poisonous. What the merits are of judging a candidate by the party he keeps, specifically the demeanors of his colleagues and their recent tendency to be attacked rather than vice-versa (and I think of soft-spoken Dick Gephardt contra those sleazy anti-Max Cleland ads from 2002), I'm not willing at this point in my irrational hatred to discuss -- and but yet having lived through Clinton, I predict confidently that John Kerry, Chief Executive will fuck up this country in such more innocuous and different ways than George W. Bush has, and to such a lesser degree, that few people will consider them ex post facto alike.

But back to Bush: O'Reilly made a point that "he's no dummy," and that seems to be the first admission of most independents who grudgingly meet and shake meaty handshakes with the man, and I realize that political messages are not the same as the person, so that my irritation at hearing W extol the virtues of fatuous and fatwa-ous decisions without reference to good judgment shouldn't be displaced to a man who, for all I know and outside the membrane of his image of faith, may not be actually convinced he has a tin-can-cum-string direct to God.

But nevertheless it is, and I am a horrible person. I, however, admit as much, making me simultaneously better than everyone else and a more horrible person.
 
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It's nice to know that when you feel like being an asshole, there's either a blog or a gun in easy reach.

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