Take Me To Your Leader

Intrepid WaPo Intergalactic Correspondent Dan Finkel is on a mission this week. Cosmospelunking deep into the colon cancerous caverns of Moonbattery. This is the type of investigative astro-journalism that blogs with our limited all-u-can-eat buffet budgets simply cannot afford to cover (h/t Jeff from Beautiful Atrocities who has found a new idol in Moon Unit Mary of My Left Wing):

“Bush Must Be HIV Positive By Now (you can’t [expletive] 500 million people and not get infected).”

Finally, someone with The Courage to speak out against Bush and covering The Aids in the same piece. Courage.

As for the keyboard, it is where O’Connor finished her evolution from lost soul to angry soul, beginning with that very first rant, which concluded with a wish that Bush, “after contracting incurable cancer and suffering for protracted periods of time without benefit of medication,” go to hell.

It goes on in this vein for some 5 sections before an illuminating interlude where she slings her pitcher of Kool-Aid against the wall when her husband doesn’t take out the trash and begins shaking her son like a British nanny on PCP because Bush killed her father in Vietnam through acute Halliburton poisoning with Jefferson Airplane’s “White Rabbit” ambient blare echoing throughout her schizosphere.

What have we got in our budget Preston? The Six Meat Space Program currently consists of me painting a General Lee symbol on the roof of my car and pancaking off of dirt ramps.

Nanoo, nanoo – nutball.


  1. “I was not like this before,” she says. “I was riddled with empathy for everyone suffering in the world. Classic bleeding-heart liberal.”

    She signed petitions. She boycotted veal.
    She canvassed for Greenpeace. She donated to Planned Parenthood. She read the Nation, the New Yorker, the Utne Reader and Mother Jones. She agonized over low wages for overseas workers every time she bought a $40 leather purse.

    Actually she didn’t change one dang bit. Now, she’s just intolerable.

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  3. That’s too bad. Because I was wanting to send Moon Unit Mary some of those “ice cream” bars that astronauts eat from the Huntsville Space Center. Laced with some of the hepatitis and AIDS she wishes on people like the criminally negligent suburban wino she is.

    I forget what it takes to be a successful liberal blogger these days sometimes. The incessant battle to out-moonbat each other in a race to the bottom. Though I shouldn’t. Throughout the Weblog Awards, we were getting inundated by T.Bozz tuberculoids and Corporal Klinger recruits filing their Section 8’s in the comments section.

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  5. Smantix,

    It’s not just a race to the bottom. It’s a race to the bottom with picks & shovels to make the bottom deeper. Call it a race to Magagascar by the most direct route.


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