Some things make me very, very tired. One of them is, of course, being too stupid to consistently take enough sleep. But nothing sharpens (and penetrates me with) a good solid bleary-eyed fogbank of a morning like starting my usual rounds of the Web and seeing, as my early dose of commercial Web mind control on Salon, the smug kisser of a world-class shitheel like Tucker Carlson.
Tucker Carlson is, as Jon Stewart demonstrated without mercy once upon a time (the video is here, and thanks to BlackdogRed for providing the link when I was unable to dig it up), a purposeless boil on the ass of civilization. His bloviational tendencies are White House press secretaryesque (and more on that later, although I'll just be reproducing what every blog in America has done over the last 20 hours or so). His value to society and the media is incalculable, because it doesn't exist. The notion that he has a primetime television program on a major cable network is an offense to the concept of media.
He is a fuckwit.
And yet , for some reason he's a darling. Wonkette doesn't want to love him, but there's something there that she apparently can't resist. She links to this piece at PittsburghLIVE, which consists of some moron provincial sucking Tucker's dick adoringly, mincing at Carlson's critics ("More objective viewers, however, would give Carlson credit for developing a smart, politically balanced and often funny hour of civilized TV debate"; politically balanced? Are you fucking insane, you little rollover bitch?) and completely missing the point ("libertarian-leaning conservative"? Call a fascist a fascist, you milquetoast starfucker; with twits like you journalizing in your local state, it's no wonder that dangerous criminals like Rick Santorum get elected to the Senate.). I hereby call for all of you to go burn PittsburghLIVE, which is clearly a warped tool of provincial Republicanism.
I'd rename this blog Tucker Carlson Is A Fuckwit or go find him and break his poncy little button nose, but it would be giving him more energy than he's worth. Which is, come to think of it, precisely what I'm doing with these five paragraphs.
(This post was modified two hours after posting to provide a link and a little bit of further exposition.)
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2 comments:
Where, exactly, does one keep one's gob?
I think the appeal is in the tie. It makes him seem mostly harmless.
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