An Item For Those Who Thought Cyber Monday Was A Holiday to Honor Mark Foley

Back in Old Blighty, it's time again for distribution of the Bad Sex Award, a prize given to the author of the year's most "unconvincing, perfunctory, embarrassing or redundant sex scene in an otherwise sound literary novel." Up for the honors was Thomas Pynchon, for his Santorumesque doggy shag tale involving

a spaniel called Mouffette, a curious man called Reef and the final line, "Reader, she bit him."

Sadly, Pynchon was pipped at the post by young turk Iain Hollingshead, whose more conventional offering included this passage:

She reaches for my belt. I groan too, in expectation. And then I'm inside her, and everything is pure white as we're lost in a commotion of grunts and squeaks, flashing unconnected images and explosions of a million little particles.

Hey, watch it! Those are Snowflake Babies you're talking about.

The compleat entries can be read here.

And, since somebody's got to do it, I'm awarding the Bad Blog Sex prize to Special Ed Morrissey, for his erotic essay on The Mile Wide High Club:

In modern jets, the seats are far too cramped, and the bathrooms are worse. The flight experience produces physical reactions closer to a hangover than sexual arousal, and anyone who thinks that mutual sexual gratification can take place under such circumstances probably spends too much time reading Penthouse Forum than this blog [sic].

And Forum's more credible than that blog too.

Beltway Incest At Its Finest

I've tried to post comments a (very) few times on The Huffington Post, but they've never appeared. Perhaps someone thinks I'm trying to pass myself off as O.J.'s benefactor over at the FOX Network. It certain isn't for quality control reasons.

Anyway, here's a rough attempt at recreating (and expanding upon) my aborted comment in response to this Steve Clemons post:

"John McCain and Joseph Lieberman are also both attracted to Marshall Wittman because of his work and thinking about a 'new campaign of national greatness.'" A new campaign of national greatness? The voters must be wetting themselves over that! Those running on an old platform of national shittiness don't stand a chance.

What exactly has Wittmann the Giant ever acheived in his legendary career, apart from self-promotion? Because I don't see anything about that in your post, or in the New York Times article. You seem to think that he has the skills to bamboozle (or seduce) "many pundits," but there's already a surplus of chuzzlewits who guzzle the Maverick/Holy Joe Drano without Wittmann's assistance.
The man is so impressive that you can't manage to spell him name correctly once.

Bullshit In The Halls Of Congress

Time for a blogger ethics panel, according to the Hartford Courant:

"There is no better person to take the helm during this new time in my Senate career than Marshall [Wittmann]," Lieberman said Tuesday. "Marshall has been a trusted outside advisor to me for some time now and I'm glad he will be bring his experience and wisdom to my staff. Those qualities, along with his independence and diverse background, make him the ideal captain of my new Senate Communications team."

I certainly don't recall Ralph Reed's own Little Dick Morris disclosing that he was servicing Holy Joe whilst blogging smears against Ned Lamont. Not to mention that the Bullshitter was advising a de facto Republican while claiming to blog for the DLC. (Someone should archive the Bullshitter's blog before it disappears, because Holy Joe has just endorsed every slander against Democrats found on that site.)

The Courant story also notes, with no evident sarcasm intended, that Fathead Wittmann previously worked "as communications director for McCain, the maverick Republican who is now unofficially pursuing a 2008 presidential bid."

Anyone Have Any Idea Who Hic!hens Is Talking About?

Somebody get Chris Hitch a proofreader:

We shall no doubt have to accept whatever the publishing industry decides to shovel over us, and to that extent get a small idea of what it is to be a member of the Coleman and Goodman families.

"The Moose may re-emerge at any moment in a new venue."

Where will the Bullshit Moose turn up next?

As chair of Ralph Reed's legal defense fund?

A cross-country trip selling McCain/Lieberman '08 t-shirts out of the back of a panel van?

Chairman of the DLC?

My money's on senior editor at The New Republic, where he'll be assigned to spellcheck Marty Peretz's blog.

Rehab's also a possibility; Iraq and Iran are not.

The Reverend Falwell Would Agree, If Only Medved Wasn't The Anti-Christ

Over at clownhall.com, Michael "The Oil Companies Are Anti-Semitic" Medved catches Homowood trying to cram gay down his protesting throat once again. When will those radical sodomites stop torturing Mikey's tender tonsils?

As in so many other recent films, there's a subtext that appears to plead for endorsement of gay identity. Mumbles (the voice of Elijah Wood) displeases his parents and the leaders of his community because he's born different, and makes an impassioned plea that he can't possibly change -- and they should accept him as he is.

This from a man who worships fundamentalist spank films.

And you've got to wonder about Medved's attempted play on the film's title: "Crappy Feet." Sounds like Mike's a closet corpophile.

Battlestar's On, Just Leave Me Alone And Write Twenty Pages Comparing Howard Dean to Mussolini

The Pantload is finally about to commence work on his first coloring book, I Heart Hitler:

Help Wanted [Jonah Goldberg]

I'm gonna need a meticulous, smart, diligent intern/assistant type to help me with the house-cleaning on my manuscript. In particular, I need someone to help get my copious footnotes and the like in order. There will also be some serious research-related stuff to do as we head into galley mode. It would be best if he or she -- or conceivably it -- went to school or worked in the DC area so we could meet from time to time. I haven't thought through the money question, but you can be assured it won't be lavish. But what's filthy lucre compared to a glowing mention in the acknowledgements and my eternal gratitude? Anyway, anybody interested in said gig should send an email with appropriate info (resume, experience, dancing ability etc) to JonahResearch@aol.com.

Translation: Is there anyone who can substantiate any of the shit I made up and read my handwriting? I already spent the advance on Ring Dings and Dexatrim, and if I miss my publisher's deadline again even Judith Regan won't do business with me.

I'm not kidding. The expected publication date of I Heart Hitler has been pushed back from March 20, 2007 to September 11, 2007. (An aniversary tie-in. How tasteful.) The Pantload's publisher was already pimping the slender tome as an all-but-finished product 13 months ago, in October 2005. Most of the folks who pre-ordered this pile have died of old age or stupidity by now.

Friedman Proves Keynes' Theory

Well, at least he avoided another one of those NR cruises.

Ahhhhhhhhhh Waaaaaaaaaaaaa Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu Voooooooooooo

Bush's selection of Memo Mel Martinez to head the RNC is a brilliant stroke. A series of hard-hitting ads featuring Bobby Schindler will ensure that the Republicans recapture Congress in '08.

And Michael Steele can always find some sort of position in the aptly-titled Senate Minority Whip Trent Lott's office.

Hanging Chad

That's what you do with terrorists, right?

A long time ago, somewhere on the internet, I referred to Timmy McVeigh as a Freeper with follow-through. According to reports, we now have Malk-Hata's Number 2 man in federal custody.

According to an FBI affidavit obtained by Radar, Chad Conrad Castagana, who was arrested Monday on suspicion of sending powder-filled envelopes to Keith Olbermann, Jon Stewart, Sumner Redstone, David Letterman, Pelosi, and New York Senator Charles Schumer, purchased a $15 money order made out to "Friends of Katherine Harris" last September at a Woodland Hills, Calif., post office while he was picking up the envelopes and stamps he employed to terrorize the liberal elite.

So hanging Chad would be an execution and a tribute to Katherine Harris, all in one.

Other reports suggest that Chad, aged 39, unemployed and still living in his parents' basement, is a poster to rightwing blogs and an enthusiastic fan of Michelle Malkin. (These things practically write themselves.) The FBI and Department of Homeland Security might want to check out Chad's e-mail and buddy lists while they're searching his computer. Of course, there's no conclusive evidence that Malkin gave financial support to Castagana or helped him come up with his more clever anti-Semetic slurs, but then again there was no evidence that Chaplain James Yee passed information to Muslim prisoners of war or that Joel Henry Hinrichs was a Muslim, so you never know.

It's good to see progress in the war on terror. Of course, Chad is innocent until proven guilty through a confession obtained by waterboarding, preferably performed by our Egyptian allies.

Cut and Rum

So Don Rummy gets to go home to one of his villas in Chicago, Taos, Santa Fe, Santo Domingo and/or Las Vegas, having ensured that his old pal Saddam no longer has more palaces than he does. Meanwhile, 2,800 Americans have returned home to slightly less spacious accomodations, having predeceased Bush's belated interest in "thoughtful conversations" and "new, fresh ideas."

Blog Party Of One

So far, I think things have gone nearly as well as could be expected.

Race hustler Michael Steele was crushed like a rancid Hydrox. Mike DeWine and Ken Blackwell got their asses kicked. Chris Chocola got privatized. J.D. Hayworth's bloated red face turned purple, then blue. God told Katherine Harris to go fuck herself. Carol Sherwood will get to spend more time with her husband. Curt Weldon has plenty free time to consult with his defense team and psychiatric professionals. And the remains of Rick Santorum's career were passed around by the Santorum children and then buried in the back yard of that Pennsylvania home they never use.

That lying little putz Dicky Pombo may lose too.

Brit Hume looked like he was going to cry, and not just when Michelle "Bugs" Malkin read her third grade book report to him.

The only major Republican win so far was in Connecticut.

The Predator and Steve Poizner won in California, unsurprisingly, but it looks like parental notification will lose.

Best of all, Chinless Ken Mehlman has no credibility left, and neither do any of these simpering jackasses.

Let the games begin.

Why This Blog Continues to Suck

I'd hoped to do some extensive blogging tomorrow night as the election results came in, but I'll be watching them away from my computer.

Just make random, sarcastic remarks every time a CNN or MSNBC head says something asinine, and a vicious sarcastic remark every time a Republican loses his or her seat, and you'll be too busy to notice I'm gone. (CNN looks especially promising, offering the mad opining skillz of Bill Bennett, J.C. Watts and Torie Clarke.)

And remember, if you don't vote, you can still complain. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.

But I'm voting.

Success Has A Thousand Fathers, Failure Just Has These Bastards

Having grown bored of dead Iraqis and American soldiers, various neocon guttersnipers have now morphed into a circular firing squad.

Here's Ahmed Chalabi, from the summary of an interview published in the Iraq National Congress' house organ:

What about the WMD propaganda? Chalabi counters views that he was the catalyst, saying that it was Bush officials who "came to us and asked, 'Can you help us find something on Saddam?'"

Sounds like a rhetorical question.

[Chalabi] also claims that he warned the Bush people that various Iraqi informants were unreliable, only to hear the Americans say, referring to the source, "This guy is the mother lode." Chalabi, of all people asks, "Can you believe that on such a basis the United States would go to war?"

Why, if we planted it in the New York Times, it must be true.

Meanwhile, in the forthcoming Vanity Fair, various gasbags of the quagmire insist the flatuence originated elsewhere.

Richard Perle says he was only a cheerleader, not the quarterback.

"I was in favor of bringing down Saddam. Nobody said, 'Go design the campaign to do that.' I had no responsibility for that."

David Frum admits The Right Man was a fraud of Conrad Blackian proportions (let them share the same cell):

"I always believed as a speechwriter that if you could persuade the president to commit himself to certain words, he would feel himself committed to the ideas that underlay those words. And the big shock to me has been that although the president said the words, he just did not absorb the ideas. And that is the root of, maybe, everything."

We'll put David down in the "stupid" column.

Meanwhile, Michael Ledeen blames the bitches:

"Ask yourself who the most powerful people in the White House are. They are women who are in love with the president: Laura [Bush], Condi, Harriet Miers, and Karen Hughes."

Iraq is a debacle 'cause Bush is pussywhipped. (If only he'd listened to Dick Cheney and Karl Rove!) Spoken like a true Pajamas Median.

Meanwhile, Vanity Fair's own colonialist, Chris Hitchens, was unavailable for consciousness.

Things To Do in Denver When You're Ted

Now it can be revealed! Ted "Art" Haggard is a victim of the War Against Christmas:

The Rev. Ted Haggard denied the allegation that the two men met for sex as often as every month for the last three years. But he did say that he had gone to the prostitute's Denver apartment for a massage and later called him more than once to buy meth -- a drug thought to heighten sexual sensation.

...

The man Haggard met in Denver, Mike Jones, has advertised as a male escort in gay magazines. His website promises massages "with the pleasure of the man in mind" and includes photos of his bodybuilder physique -- including one where he's nude except for a Santa hat. Haggard said he was referred to Jones for a massage by a Denver hotel.

Ho! Ho! Ho!

But unlike Ted, Christmas comes only once a year.

Update: CNN and others report that the "board of overseers" at Father Ted's parish have let the door hit Ted on the ass on his way out. Apparently, they either think Ted's been lying to them, or they think getting a massage is sex. This is Father Dougal Parsley's big break.

Moral Haggard, Or, Notes On Jesus Camp

What is it with these movie stars and their decadent lifestyles?

Levi, Rachel and Tory are seen [in the movie Jesus Camp] at home, a bowling alley, going to camp and then crisscrossing the country from an Evangelical church headed by Ted Haggard in Colorado Springs, Colo., to praying outside a Kansas abortion clinic and finally protesting abortion with red tape with "life" written on it over their mouths, as they pray outside the U.S. Supreme Court in Washington, D.C.

...

In the documentary, Haggard, who heads the National Association of Evangelicals, brags that children are fueling a boom in his churches and that evangelicals would hold a lot of control in U.S. politics.

Evangelical Christians are estimated to number 75 million in the United States. It's estimated 25 million Evangelicals voted in the 2004 presidential election with 80 percent voting Republican.

"There's a new church like this every two days," Haggard boasts in "Jesus Camp." "It's got enough growth to essentially sway every election. If the Evangelicals vote, they determine the election."

Unless they're too busy banging escorts, that is.

Late Breaking News: Haggard has "confessed" something to "Big Rod" Parsley, while James Dobson, Focus on the Family's Top, remains the queen of denial.

Bobby Burchfield, Enemy of the First Amendment

By now, you've probably read that incumbent Rep. Don Sherwood (R-PA) paid Cynthia Ore half a million dollars for not strangling her.

Hardly a fiscal conservative. Or a tort reformer.

A Republican congressman accused of abusing his ex-mistress agreed to pay her about $500,000 in a settlement last year that contained a powerful incentive for her to keep quiet until after Election Day, a person familiar with the terms of the deal told The Associated Press.

Rep. Don Sherwood is locked in a tight re-election race against a Democratic opponent who has seized on the four-term congressman's relationship with the woman. While Sherwood acknowledged the woman was his mistress, he denied abusing her and said that he had settled her $5.5 million lawsuit on confidential terms.

The settlement, reached in November 2005, called for Cynthia Ore to be paid in installments, according to a person who spoke on condition of anonymity because the deal is confidential. She has received less than half the money so far, and will not get the rest until after the Nov. 7 election, the person said Thursday.

More interesting than the typical Republican lo-lifery of Sherwood is the work of his shyster:

Even before Ore settled, the congressman tried to keep a tight lid on the case. His lawyer asked a judge to prohibit disclosure of materials from the case, warning that Sherwood's opponents might try to use the information to harm him politically.

The lawyer, Bobby Burchfield, was especially adamant that any videotaped deposition of Sherwood not be released, saying the footage could be used against him in negative political ads.

Yes, Bobby Burchfield, the same high-billing hack who spouted platitudes in The Weekly Standard about how free speech in political campaigns is "the oxygen of democracy." Seems Bobby has the same grasp on democracy that Representative Sherwood had on Ms. Ore's windpipe.