Calhoun’s Cannons for November 13 2012
Just like Karl Rove, the brain behind George Bush, the
genius behind the Super PAC Crossroads GPS, the darling strategist of the
Republicans. It’s election night on Fox
News and Karl was just hit over the head with a huge, thick, heavy book full of
numbers; polling numbers, voting numbers, actual facts, and outside-the-bubble
reality. Thwock!
And still Karl wasn’t getting it. Clearly, not getting
it. Instead he was denying those
numbers, and rattling off other numbers, happier numbers, Republican numbers
that would show his client winning.
Until news anchor Megyn Kelly turned to him and said, right out loud, on
air, on Fox News, straight from the belly of the Great Republican BS Bubble
Machine, “Is this just math you do as a Republican to make yourself feel better
or is this real?”
And there it was.
From the mouth of a babe. Brave,
pretty Megyn. The whole Roger Ailes, Rupert
Murdoch, Rush Limbaugh, Sean Hannity, Bill O’Reilly ginned up Republican BS
Bubble Machine finally exposed, the Ozian curtain pulled aside to reveal all
the termites munching away. “Is this just
math you do as a Republican to make yourself feel better or is this real?”
And suddenly, the jig was up, that years-long circle jerk of
creepy old very well paid white guys (and several helmet-haired skinny blonds
with fierce, rictus smiles) stroking and fueling one another with made up crap,
pumped up on faux anger, fake numbers, heating themselves up into a sweaty frenzy
of wacko conspiracy theories, racial dog whistle music, and Onanistic misogyny
– all those Mexicans! Those Sluts! Those blacks who just want stuff! The moochers are coming! The moochers are
coming!
Until it all came crashing down around the King of the
Universe, gut stuck by pretty little Megyn and the mooching voters.
Now, in a sane world, Karl, Sean, Rush, O’Reilly, et all
would put paper bags over their heads and slink away in disgrace. Mainstream newspapers would return their
Op/Eds with a courteous, cool No Thank You.
Viewers would snort through their noses and change the channel. But we don’t live in a sane world. We live in a Zombie Termite world and shortly
after Karl’s amazing sputter on election night, there he was in the Murdochian
Wall Street Journal, holding forth in all his
brazen punditry. No shame. No paper bag.
And from Right Wing World, not a guffaw, not even the hint of a snigger
at these guys or a demand from sane Republicans for somebody to, please God,
get them off the stage – they’re killing us!
Nope, not a bit of it. Instead, Hannity went on the air to
rail at voters for voting for Obama, Bill O’Reilly whined about a world filled
with people who just “wanted stuff,” and Rush Limbaugh simply had a complete
meltdown – off the rails and utterly flummoxed by his self-created cognitive
dissonance and blubbering at the prospect that his own privately invented Apocalypse
was at hand.
Then all of them started blaming the media. And from their Poobah Pundit Lips came not a
whisper of a horrifying possibility:
That America had heard all that the Great Right Wing Republican BS
Machine had to say and politely said, No Thanks. That there just might be
another reality that consisted of voters who were finally onto the Great Con that had been run on them for 30 years
by those same pundits. And that now, busted,
their economy looted, their country beggared and themselves dispossessed, they
finally woke up and pulled aside the curtain.
But if you think you’ve seen the last of Rove and all the
other discredited “talking heads” on the media circuit, well you’re out of
luck. Karl and the rest won’t go away. Like
all the other official go-to yakkers on the Sunday Morning News Gab Fests,
they’ve become a permanent fixture, an interchangeable troop of well paid
character actors who appear weekly to play Discredited Democratic Hack arguing
with Discredited Republican Hack, on what pretends to be a “news” show presided
over by another actor pretending to be a “journalist, all interspersed by
commercials for Depends and Mountain Dew.
And not a paper bag in sight. Or a Terminex guy.
World without end. Thwock!
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