Help Me, Flying Chain Saw

…should make everyone wonder exactly what he is hiding

I bet he’s hiding a monster schlong.

@IanJ:

…and an expert knowledge of how to wield it.

Sorry, had a little Beavis and Butthead moment there. I’m trying to avoid thinking about all the utter bullshit being perpetrated by McCain and the economy.

@IanJ:

So does that make me Beavis or Butthead?

These people are fucking desperate. I fear the worst, and I predict it will get even more ridiculous.

I think this is more evidence of what Pareene over at Planet G has identified as McCain’s misconstrual of the Rovian “use your opponent’s strengths against him” principle as “accuse your opponent of possessing your own most obvious defects.”

@BRB: I think the Geez campaign is interpreting Rovian tactics to mean, “no amount of hypocrisy is over-the-top, and when any MSM minion dares to call you out on outright lies, fall back on talking points. When that fails, attack your questioner’s patriotism with innuendo and change the subject, stat!”

See, now I just read this interesting post over at BLDGBLOG that talks about politicians still trying to portray rural folks as the stereotypical, average american when in fact the country, as the rest of the world, is becoming more and more urbanized.

“The idea that “an old-fashioned soda shop” might give someone access to the mind of the United States seems so absurd as to be almost impossible to ridicule thoroughly.”

@drinkyclown: I absolutely love old fashioned soda shops and diners, but long ago accepted that when I step into the real ones in, say, Carbon county, the folks there are anything but “average” and the stereotype is one that most of us flee from when in contact with the foreigns. Or New Yorkers.

@drinkyclown: I vaguely remember getting a milkshake at a counter at Woolworth’s, as a toddler, while my Mom shopped for cheap clothes and sundries. But fuck me if I can remember any time past prepubescence when the “soda fountain” was a fixture of soft-focus teen mating ritual.

My teenage epiphanies were more like kegs of piss-beer and bottles of Bacardi 151 swilled down ’til we were sightless and/or projectile vomiting in the parking lot of some suburban elementary school that was obsolete before it was built.

And even if/when I did get that milkshake at a Woolworth’s counter, it was in the context of a soulless shopping mall, concrete fortifications plopped down in the middle of acres of asphalt. Not on this mythical Main Street we hear so much about (as in, Wall Street fucks Main Street: will Main Street fuck back?)

This one is why I want to buy a gun. Yaunnnerstand me? This one produced white rage. White rage, as in white hot, god, everything has a racial subtext, but I was white hot, because this statement was calculated to produce the other kind of white rage. Telling the pigfuckers they are being attacked, thats throwing the match. Match, as in ignition source.

@Pedonator:

Sightless and projectile vomiting…good times, good times….

@Promnight: My own white rage is building, and I hate that They produce it in me, but it is building into a, yes, raging torrent against these pigfucking mouthbreathing sisterraping aborted-fetus-worshiping n0-count downright doggerel yellow-bellied lying hypocritical deniers of all that is pleasurable in being human, sod-fucking chingacabras that will turn out in herds to the vote polls, and I’m sorry depressed that they even have a voice in the velocity of our polity.

Call me an elitist, you fucktwads, I’m PROUD OF IT!