Regular readers of this little experiment of mine, in addition to being insane, may have noticed that I haven't bothered talking politics in awhile. This is despite the fact that White House scandal upon White House scandal have provided a wealth of great material over the past several weeks.
The truth of the matter is, I really don't see what the hell I can say that everyone else hasn't said already; I have nothing special to add to the mix. If you haven't figured out by now that our president is stupid, corrupt, dangerous and thoroughly worthless -- and that his second in command is delusional to the point of requiring a fucking straightjacket, there isn't much I can say to convince you.
That said, I want to steer you to a political writer who's far more talented, incisive and goddamned hysterical than I could ever hope to be.
One of the links on the right side of the page leads you to Matt Taibbi's regular column in Rolling Stone -- it's called The Low Post. Taibbi used to be a writer for the New York Press, where he wrote a series of brilliant columns, including the one that ended the tenure of the Press's editor and incurred the wrath of the mayor, both New York senators and of course, the Catholic Church; it was called The 52 Funniest Things About the Upcoming Death of the Pope. #51 was, "After death, saggy, furry tits of dead Pope begin inexorable process of melting away into nothingness, like coldest of Sno-cones under faintest of suns."
What Taibbi was trying to say about the media's grotesque obsession with celebrity deaths (yes, even the Pope is a celebrity) as well as its tendency to gloss over any and all of the deceased's past transgressions -- well, let's just say it wasn't everyone's cup of tea.
His latest column in Rolling Stone takes aim at one of Capitol Hill's most useless dolts, Florida Republican Lincoln Diaz-Balart. Trust me when I tell you that, having lived in Miami, Diaz-Balart is one of the many sickening politicians who act as the trusted subservient bitches of the hardline Cuban exile community. He was one of the clowns who, every hour on the hour, turned up in front of the house in Little Havana where Elian Gonzalez lived for several months; he was always there just in time for the cameras to roll.
He's a whore of the highest magnitude, and Taibbi nails him to the wall.
Take a look for yourself, and if you like what you read -- I'd highly suggest picking up Taibbi's book, Spanking the Donkey: Dispatches from the Dumb Season.
Matt Taibbi: Tasting Their Own Medicine -- Republicans Complain About the Congressional Shaft
Friday, April 06, 2007
Posted by Chez at 3:16 PM