24.3.05

Gore Vidal - Depressingly Correct

But also hilariously:
Nothing important gets said. There used to be all those talk shows back in the '50s and '60s, when I was on television a great deal. People would talk about many important things, and you had some very good talkers. They're not allowed on now. Or they're set loose in the Fox Zoo, in which you have a number of people who pretend to be journalists but are really like animals. Each one has his own noise--there's the donkey who brays, there's the pig who squeals. Each one is a different animal in a zoo, making a characteristic noise. The result is chaos, which is what is intended. They don't want the people to know anything, and the people don't.
That's fucking funny! And terrigying! But funny!
Play along - Chris Matthews is the little squealing piggy, sighing with delight every time Uncle Dick Cheney comes around for one of his midnight visits; Bill O'Reilly the crazily yowling mutt with the mange that went after the wrong possum - and now is going to have to go for a long walk with Daddy and his shotgun.

Vidal's interview is a good companion piece to the Rude Pundit's musings of the other day:
Karl Rove is a frustrated fat man; no matter how much he works, he can't train his male leather slave to take a fisting. Oh, he's tried, Lord, how he's tried to get that sphincter loose enough. He's used butt plugs, anal beads, ben-wah balls, strap-ons, dildos smoothed and cock-shaped, ketchup bottles, everything he can thing of, but for some reason, for some anatomical quirk, perhaps, Rove just can't manage to get his whole hamhock hand into his leather slave's anus.

Rove keeps his leather slave chained in the basement of the White House, right next to James Buchanan's hand-crank vibrator and Richard Nixon's Saigon whore blow-up doll (with real sucking action). Rove has been working on the fisting since the second inauguration -- it's the one thing his leather slave hasn't done, having gladly taken the tax cut golden showers, the Patriot Act scat treatment, not even yelling the safe word, "Impeach," when Rove branded him with the word "Iraq." But this, this one thing, a fisting, that would bring Master Rove so much pleasure, the leather slave has denied Rove.
...
Back in the White House basement, Karl Rove grunts, sweats, and squeals in concupiscent rage at not getting that pudgy hand into that ass, at not turning his leather slave into his meat puppet. He know, though, he knows that if he has to, he'll ignore all the safe words and force fist that fucker until his ass is good and bleeding. And then Karl Rove will take his forever damaged leather slave in his arms and hold him, feeding him sweet Iranian figs, telling him not to worry about the blood and pain, that it'll all be okay.
This is America today - squealing pigs on FoxNews, grunting Karl Rove anally fisting his leather slave. It is of the utmost importance to laugh at it all, because we are well past the point of "it'd be funny if it weren't so damn serious." It's funny because it's so damn serious.

This doesn't mean stop caring, or fighting. But c'mon - these guys are fucking absurd. Karl Rove fisting his leather slave is hilarious. Chris Matthews really, really, really looks like a little piggy.

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