Atlas Shrugged: The Mocking

Friday, April 11, 2008

The League of Extraordinary Bloggers: A Fresh Face

In a Secret Location, deep beneath the bowels, entrails and colon of Pennsylvania Avenue, a Meeting of Diabolical Minds takes place. It is the League of Extraordinary Bloggers, each a hero (or a heroine or a Coulter) in his (or hers, or Coulter's) own sphere. They are:

Col. Glenn Reynolds—famous defender of guns, wherever they are needed to fight the Brown Menace.

Michelle Malkin—a creature of the night, with an insatiable thirst for blood under her modest, cheerleader-clad fa├žade.

Jonah Goldberg—A barefoot man-boy with cheek, famous for being so lazy he got his research assistant to paint his fence.

Hugh Hewitt—a man so colorless that he can be seen right through, unless clothed in the garb of authoritarian man-love. Might also be an albino.

Ann Althouse—A respectable professor who digs deep into the evil aspects of her psyche when she drink an experimental potion know as “Merlot.”

Part I
Part II

Reynolds: We are here to initiate our newest member of The League of Extraordinary Bloggers. Ladies and gentlemen, Miss Megan McArdle.

Althouse: Hello, Megan. How do you do?

Megan: Six-two.

Althouse: What?

Megan: I'm six feet, two inches tall.

Goldberg: What does that have to do with anything?

Megan: People always want to know how tall I am, so I tell them first thing. Then they usually want to know where I went to school, so I tell them that, and how many degrees I have. It's a curse being so overeducated and over bred.

Goldberg: (giggles) You said "breed."

Malkin: What happened to Hewitt?

Reynolds: He was touring a dairy factory and fell into a vat of milk. Poor chap, he drowned before they could find him.

Megan: Do you want to know what I think about Hugh?

All: No.

Reynolds: I'm bringing in Megan because we Extraordinary Bloggers need someone to explain Bush's economic policies to the little people.

Althouse: Dwarfs need economic advice?

Goldberg: No, stupid, he means Munchkins.

Megan: Some people say I look like an elf.

The Bloggers all turn and look at Megan.

Megan: What? They do.

Reynolds: I MEAN the common folk, the rank-and-file, the hoi polloi, the--

Malkin: The dirty, heaving masses yearning to breath free, eat free, go to school free--- (Malkin twitches violently and screams.)

Reynolds pulls a pistol from under his Browncoat and shoves it into Malkin's face.

Malkin: Don't shoot me! I thought I saw an Islamofascist in the shadows of the cave. Shoot him! And his little anchor babies too!

Reynolds reholsters his gun.

Goldberg: Hey, Malkin, aren't you a---

Malkin, in one fluid movement, whips a knife out from under her cheerleader sweater and points the tip under Goldberg's chins.

Malkin: Go ahead, Fat Boy. Finish that sentence and my dentist will be picking you out from between my teeth.

Goldberg: I eat Daily Lunch Specials bigger than you, Malkin. Your reputation doesn't frighten me.

Malkin growls, showing small pointed teeth.

Malkin: I know where you live, Jonah. Cosmo's going to fit into a martini glass when I'm done with him.

Goldberg: (whining) Make her stop, Reynolds. She's scary.

Reynolds: All of you stop. We have a new member and you're all acting like stupid liberals.

Goldberg: Nobody's stupider than liberals.

They all laugh.

Reynolds: Heh. Indeed. Stupid liberals. Okay, first order of business. Rove wants us to destroy Michelle Obama. He wants her running home crying to her mama by the time we're done with her. Each of you knows what to do. Malkin, you accuse her of having a French first name and secret underground parties with Eurotrash.

Michelle Malkin: Got it.

Reynolds: Goldberg, find a passage in your book that provides an "intellectual" argument for calling Mrs. Obama a fascist.

Goldberg: Right, Chief. I'll bleg right away for the information.

Reynolds: Ann, you just go on taking pretty pictures. Oh, wait, I have a present for you.

Althouse: For me! I love presents for me! It's so much more fun than presents for anyone else. Why, it's a bottle of Merlot! Ordinarily I wouldn't imbibe, but it would be rude not to. Does anyone have----

Reynolds pulls a glass from his pocket and pops the cork from the top of the already-opened bottle of magical potion. He hands Althouse the glass and she drains it quickly, then shudders.

Althouse: Megan, have you ever seen "Blow Up"? My favorite scene has two women and----

Reynolds: (hastily) Ann, didn't you want to write about Mrs. Obama's secret homosexual leanings?

Althouse beams and nods.

Reynolds: Megan, you have the most important job. You need discuss Mrs. Obama's Communist leanings.

Megan: I'm not so sure that will work, Glenn. I kind of had a problem a little while ago, just a misunderstanding of my work, mind you, but it might make it hard to pull that off.

Reynolds: (sternly) Are you or are you not an Extraordinary Blogger?

Megan: I have an MBA, don't I?

Reynolds: Good girl. Now, everyone get to work. The administration needs these caves for a brunch and torture demonstration.