November 05, 2004
Post-Election Notes From The Blogosphere : The Rude Pundit
by Liza Sabater
The Rude Pundit
He is rude, loud, obnoxious but, somehow, his 5 stages of grief encapsulate, in their croprophilic verbosity, what a lot of liberals are feeling and will be feeling in the next few weeks. More so though, I think Rude Pundit's screeches have more than one ounce of truth to them. I'm coming to believe he's the Nietzsche of the blogosphere.
As we learn from the religious right every day, a well-told lie trumps the truth every time. And that's what those motherfuckers in the Bush campaign did, day after goddamned day - they trumpeted lies as if they were the truth. The caressed lies like they're lovers, like you could make 'em hard and make 'em cum all over the eager faces of the public. They revised history and expected everyone to fall in line in complete ignorance of the facts. Dick Cheney could have been caught on video eating the still-beating heart of an Iraqi child that he just raped with a gas pump nozzle, and they'd be able to make a majority believe that Cheney was a victim of the liberal media and that to bring up Dick Cheney's child-raping, heart-eating ways is "beyond the pale." Christ, how the yahoos in Kentucky would lap that shit up. It confirms what they want to believe, that somehow they are cozy-buddies with those in power, when really, Bush and the Bushettes are laughing at them, toasting with single malt scotch that they tricked the savages once again by appealing to their savage nature with the Iraq war. Yeah, man, bleed the Iraqis, set them against each other, shoot 'em all down. They're the savages, not us, motherfuckers, not us. We'll keep bringin' them the good graces of America, and, goddamnit, those fuckers'll accept it or we'll slaughter 'em in the name of bringing civilization to the savages, when really, in the end, we are blinded to anything but the crude reduction of power to the kick of an assault weapon in our hands, the acrid smell of burnt gun powder, and the sweet, subhuman screams of the savages we kill. And in the background, the bleating of the prone media, getting fucked over and over, and screeching to be fucked again, cheering on the killing 'cause that's what motherfucking America has come down to: kill or be killed. If yer not doin' the killin', then yer just waitin' to die. In God We Trust.
Posted by Liza Sabater in 2004 Elections
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