Imagine that you are working for the 2009 Aspen Ideas Festival, and that you have been tasked with assigning seats to the opening night banquet for all the festival's speakers and presenters. Your boss, a malevolent man, tells you to put together a table he refers to as Fuckwit Nation, to be comprised of the six stupidest and most useless participants in attendance.
You scan the list of presenters and speakers, and the first four denizens of Fuckwit Nation pop out all at once, as their surnames all begin with the letter P: Mark Penn. Dana Perino. Tim Pawlenty. Dennis Prager. Who would deny any of these people a seat at the table?
You continue to check the list. Aha! you say. How did I miss this guy before? And you assign David Gregory to the table.
Just one more name, you tell yourself. I just need one more dullard, one more total know-nothing, to put at this table. You pick up the list again. Your eye catches a name you'd mentally blocked out before. You smile as you assign the last name to the table. Fuckwit Nation is now complete.
Your work is done.