So here’s what happened: One starry night in March 1991, a gentleman by the name of Rodney King was pulled over by L.A.’s Finest for DWB, and given instruction in who they were protecting and serving. Unlike other similar tutorials, this one was videotaped for the edification of Our Exceptional Nation, and the parts of Los Angeles you only see on cop shows elected to remonstrate in April 1992 after the officers were acquitted of irrational exuberance. This caught the attention of a young recording artist, who was profiled on the front page of the Washington Post’s Style section soon after. The story is now buried behind a paywall, but all anybody cared about was the photo caption:

Rapper Sister Souljah on the L.A. riots: “I mean, if black people kill black people every day, why not have a week and kill white people? You understand what I’m saying?”

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“Robertson continued that the tornadoes may not have happened if people had prayed for divine intervention, ‘If enough people were praying He would’ve intervened, you could pray, Jesus stilled the storm, you can still storms.’ He also told people who live in areas prone to natural disasters that it’s ‘their fault, not God’s.’” [Right Wing Watch, via Political Wire]

“You must favor, and live up to, abstinence before marriage.” —One of 28 conditions you have to meet to run as a Republican in Laurens County, South Carolina. You also cannot “from the moment you sign this pledge, look at pornography”. [Clinton Chronicle, via TPM]

Our guest columnist is a frightened fat fuck, bloviating to the nation today.

I want to explain why I apologized to Sandra Fluke in the statement that was released on Saturday. I’ve read all the theories from all sides, and, frankly, they are all wrong. I don’t expect — and I know you don’t, either — morality or intellectual honesty from the left. They’ve demonstrated over and over a willingness to say or do anything to advance their agenda. It’s what they do. It’s what we fight against here every day. But this is the mistake I made. In fighting them on this issue last week, I became like them.

Against my own instincts, against my own knowledge, against everything I know to be right and wrong I descended to their level when I used those two words to describe Sandra Fluke. That was my error. I became like them, and I feel very badly about that. I’ve always tried to maintain a very high degree of integrity and independence on this program. Nevertheless, those two words were inappropriate. They were uncalled for. They distracted from the point that I was actually trying to make, and I again sincerely apologize to Ms. Fluke for using those two words to describe her. I do not think she is either of those two words. I did not think last week that she is either of those two words.

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Best line ever in an anti-Planned Parenthood ad.

Ranker pulled together a list of Top Ten Most Ridiculous Anti-Planned Parenthood Ads. 

The “Don’t Abort Your Baby Because He Might be Tim Tebow” Super Bowl ad came in at number 4. The number 1 ad featured the line about how Planned Parenthood is a drug dealer, and its gateway drug for children is teaching the kiddos how to masturbate.

#2 on the list, featuring the Terminator abortionist, bad ’80s hairdo parents, and the toddler is the most bizarre:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KWQFKdfcYFs

Over the weekend, when we weren’t thinking about what everybody else is thinking about, we found ourself thinking about people who don’t know us, but who think about us nonetheless.

The first is Mark T. Mitchell, who is married with three sons, and who is disturbed by our bachelorhood:

Living alone can lead to a disposition that I am center of the universe, which is precisely the false notion held by children and which parents spend plenty of time countering. If I live alone, when I eat, sleep, brush my teeth, and exercise I must ask leave of no one and can to exactly as I please. I never have to make a meal out of something I despise because it is the favorite of someone else. I don’t have to get up in the night to help a sick roommate or spouse, to rub a sore back, fetch a glass of water, or get an extra blanket to stave of the chills of fever. If I do any of these things, it is solely for myself and no other. My schedule is my own and my life is arranged so that I need to defer to no one. As attractive as all this might sound (and I can admit the attraction), I’m not sure it’s healthy.

It’s extremely rare that we have the curious pleasure of a complete stranger questioning our lifestyle, but we can assure Mr. Mitchell that our life is no less healthy than that of those who question the lifestyles of complete strangers.

Plus, we sleep in every day, which is a lot healthier than setting an alarm.

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Frank Bruni’s lamentation over Olympia Snowe’s departure from the Senate is disgusting:

She moved, dressed and treated people — even reporters, and even when we hounded her through the hallways of the Capitol — with an unforced, uncommon graciousness. She spoke with intelligence and almost never with vitriol.

But those weren’t the main reasons we had such soft spots for her. We liked her best for her disobedience. Unlike the majority of her colleagues in the Senate, be they Democrats or, like her, Republicans, she dared to disagree with her party. Often. And she did it publicly, with her votes and her forthright explanations of them.

Snowe (and Susan Collins, also of Maine) voted for the Iraq War. They voted with Bush most of the time and only became “mavericks” when it was clear the Boy King would get what he wanted anyway. They, and others like them, should be driven from polite society.