K-Lo Goes To Confession

XIII: Advise and Consent

K-Lo: Bless me Father for I have sinned. It's been three days since I last went to confession in Washington, District of Columbia, or as I like to call it, Sodom-on-the-Potomac. I brought a note, Father, so you would know that I I'm not telling a lie.

Father: Welcome back, Kathryn Jean. I hope you are enjoying your new life in DC.

K-Lo: Yes, Father, and I have so much to tell you. I went on a cruise!

Father: Wonderful, Kathryn Jean. Was it a Christian singles cruise?

K-Lo: No, Father, it was the National Review cruise, where successful Republicans can meet with the Party's greatest minds and exchange ideas. I went as a pirate, though.

Father: Oh. That's too bad. So they had a costume ball?

K-Lo: No, Father, I found a crew and rented a power boat and took over the cruise ship with my trusty pirate lasses. But don't worry, I didn't break any laws because we were in international waters and nobody found out because the League stopped me.

Father: Pirate lasses? The League? What---? Never mind, Kathryn Jean, I'm just glad no police were involved this time. So, do you have a sin for me?

K-Lo: Kind of. Father, if you're thinking about sinning, can you go to confession first and then sin, or do you have to wait until afterwards to confess?

Father: Kathryn Jean, it is your responsibility to make the right choice. You must listen to God speak through your conscience and tell you what to do. (hastily) Which is to not sin.

K-Lo: I know, Father, but if someone says it's your duty to break the law, what do you do? If I break the law I'll commit a sin but if I don't break the law I commit a sin too. I'm so confused!

Father: Kathryn Jean, I thought you understood our last discussion about killing abortion doctors perfectly. You assured me that you understood it was morally wrong. You gave me your vow. And you signed a legal document.

K-Lo: No, no, Father, not that law. It's the law against selling your organs. Father, is it wrong to sell your organs?

Father: What? Kathryn Jean, is someone actually telling you to sell your organs? Are you sure you weren't very, very confu--I mean, they weren't talking about food? Maybe a waiter offered you steak and kidney pie?

K-Lo: No, Father, it was something Jonah said. He said that when they went on a cruise together, he and Megan McArdle discussed the libertarian argument for organ selling. Oh, that reminds me. Father, I committed the sins of envy and jealousy. Anyway, he said she was so smart and pretty and knew exactly what to say when some liberal wanted to destroy America's freedom to sell the body parts of the poor.

Father: Kathryn Jean, have you considered that your, uh, professional admiration of Jonah might be a little generous?

K-Lo: Oh, no Father, he has excellent credentials. He has a journalism degree and he's an expert on Hitler and fascism. Everybody I talk to says so. And if they don't, I just put my fingers in my ears and say "lalala" like I do whenever those commercials for male enhancement come on tv.

Father: But selling organs is abhorrent, Kathryn Jean. You mustn't listen---.

K-Lo: Father, Jonah said that Megan said that it was morally wrong to not sell organs. There are all those people dying for a transplant and those selfish poor people are keeping organs they don't even need and preventing the marketplace from being free and killing people who need organs now.

Father: Kathryn Jean, the Pope said that the logic of the marketplace cannot be applied to organ donation. That's a direct quote, young lady. He said there was too much potential for abuse, and the donation system fosters a climate of charity and love. No, there is no question here, Kathryn Jean. Organ selling is utterly immoral.

K-Lo: Father, my brain hurts.

Father: There, there, Kathryn Jean.

K-Lo: I don't understand, Father. Jonah is the leading expert on fascism and history alive today. David Brooks said that Megan McArdle is a brilliant economics blogger. They're all really, really smart--they say so all the time. They have to be right.

Father: They don't have to be right, Kathryn Jean. Just because they are in positions of authority doesn't mean they're right.

K-Lo: But the pope is an authority and he's always right.

Father: That's in religious thought, Kathryn Jean. It doesn't mean anyone in authority is right. Look at the president.

K-Lo: Oh! I get it now, Father!. Our authorities are right and anyone else's is wrong. Like all those silly Muslims and Protestants who think their God is the real God but are really wrong and don't know that our God is the real God.

Father: Technically they are all the same God, but let's not get distracted here, Kathryn Jean. Trust the pope, he has Divine Guidance.

K-Lo: Okay, Father. I won't sell anyone's organs. Or buy any. How about bodies? Jonah says that one day we'll be able to transplant our brains into better-looking bodies and he has first dibs on Chris Pine.

Father: We'll cross that Starfleet bridge when we come to it, Kathryn Jean. In the mean time, obey the law and say ten Our Fathers. And stay away from Jonah, at least for a while.

K-Lo: Thanks, Father. I feel much better now.

Father: I'm glad Kathryn Jean. At least someone does.

The League of Extraordinary Bloggers: The NRO Cruise: Voyage to Nowhere

In a Secret Location, 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 façade.

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

Megan McArdle--a woman of mystery, of disguise, of charm, which hides an unscrupulous and greedy heart.

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: The Adventure Begins
Part II: A Fresh Face
Part III: And The Band Played On
Part IV: Strange Bedfellows


Part V: The NRO Cruise: Voyage to Nowhere

Reynolds: Is everybody here? Where the hell is Goldberg?

Malkin: He's in the bar, running his mouth off in front of his adoring fans. I haven't seen so many pink-cheeked piglets since the kids watched Charlotte's Web. Did you know spiders eat their mates? We have so much to learn from the animal world.

McArdle: God, those NRO-nicks are freaking me out. "Oh, Miss McArdle, you're so tall and pretty. Miss McArdle, should I sell my Citi shares? Miss McArdle, your engagement broke my heart."

Goldberg: What ho, chaps! What's our mission?

McArdle: They were all just devastated about my engagement. To Peter Suderman.

Althouse: Why, what a coincidence. I recently got---

Goldberg: That's our mission? You need help dragging him to the altar and sitting on him until you walk down the aisle?

Reynolds: Shut up, Goldberg. The Foundation has called us together to consult with the party's leading intellectuals and formulate new ideas that will return us to our rightful place in society.

McArdle: Isn't anybody going to congratulate me on my engagement?

Althouse: Just this summer I, too--

Goldberg: The Federation? Hot damn! At last! And they said I was crazy for buying a Starfleet uniform on the internet. I'm going to be first in line at the Academy and then I'll get some big guy to beat up everyone else and all the girls will want me.

Malkin: Foundation, not Federation, doofus. The tiny group of multi-millionaires and billionaires that fund conservative causes. You know, the people who sign the paycheck of the people who sign the paychecks of the people who sign the paychecks of the people who sign our paychecks.

McArdle: Suddenly I feel very tingly. Also, did I mention that I just got engaged?

Malkin: So what?

McArdle: I don't think you understand the importance of my wedding. As the world's tallest female economics blogger, my every move is watched and admired. It's a big responsibility.

Althouse: Me too!! Getting married!!

McArdle: Ann, dear, it's not all about you.

Reynolds: Shut up, all of you! We're here to get new ideas to restore us to or rightful supremacy! Now mingle with the guests and listen to the National Review speakers and report back to me at 0200 hours in the Starlight Cocktail Lounge on the Pool Deck.

Goldberg: Why do we have to walk all over the ship and talk to other people? I know exactly how the country should be run--the libertarian way.

McArdle: You're so right, Jonah. Conservatives had their chance and they failed. Liberals had their chance and they failed. Now it's our turn to fail.

Reynolds: Concentrate, people. Here are your assignments: Goldberg, you take the smoker. Malkin, take K-Lo's lecture.

Malkin: She didn't show up.

Althouse: Really? That's not like Kathryn Jean. She's usually so responsible.

McArdle: It's not like she has anything better to do.

Goldberg: Or anybody.

(Both snicker.)

Reynolds: Forget K-Lo. Cover Rich Lowry instead.

Malkin: (hopefully) Cover or smother?

Reynolds: Just get the ideas first, okay?

Malkin: (sighs) Whatever.

Althouse: What about me, Glenn?

Reynolds: You'll cover Katie O'Beirne.

Althouse: I don't know, Glenn, she's kind of scary.

Reynolds: Tell you what, Ann. Why don't you go to the bar first and ask the bartender to give you a nice glass of Merlot? It'll settle your nerves.

Althouse: Why, that's a great idea, Glenn. I think I'll do just that. Be right back!

Reynolds: Okay, McArdle, you---what the hell?

The Bloggers walk closer to the ship's railing and see metal grappling hooks attached to pink nylon rope fly through the air and grip the railing tight. Female voices rise from over the side of the cruise ship and very soon several young women clamber over the railing. They are dressed in voluminous short skirts and blousy white tops, and dangle cutlasses at their slender waists.

Goldberg: Is this a dream? Am I awake? Pinch me, please!

Malkin stabs him in the arm with a stiletto.

Goldberg: Oww! What is your problem? I said pinch, not stab.

Malkin: I just had my nails done.

Reynolds: Quiet, everyone, I think I hear their leader.

(Disembodied Female Voice): Shove harder, girls! You can do it if you believe enough! Heave!

(Disembodied Girls' Voices): Ho!

Goldberg: No.

Reynolds: It can't be.

(Disembodied Voice): For the Love Of Mittens, heave!

Malkin: But it is.

Everyone: K-Lo.

K-Lo pulls herself over the railing and falls to the deck. Several Pirate Lasses help her to her feet and straighten her tricorn hat.

K-Lo: Guess what, everyone! I'm a pirate! A Pirate For God!

Althouse: Hi, K-Lo! Why are you wearing a pirate costume?

K-Lo: I'm glad you asked, Ann. I've been hired by a secret group of SuperChristians called The Family to take over this ship and declare that the United States of America is now the United States of God. (sings) My country tis of Thee God, Sweet land of God's Mystery, Of Thee I sing. Land of the Goooood's Pride, Land of God's Countryside, From all God's Mountainsides, Let Gooooooood ring!

Althouse: That's funny, that doesn't sound like the anthem that I learned.

K-Lo: I'm here to establish a theocracy, with the Pope as king. And pope. It's a two-for-one, which will save a lot of money in these difficult economic times. And the best part is that we're in international waters so I'm not breaking any laws. Father Benedictine will be so proud of me!

Althouse: And who are these lovely young ladies?

First Pirate Lass: We're here to fulfill our service requirements to graduate from our school, Stigmata High.

Second Pirate Lass: She told us that we were going to be missionaries in the Philippines.

Third Pirate Lass: I told you that the Philippines already is Catholic. All you had to do was google, but nobody ever listens to me.

First Pirate Lass: I thought it would look good on my transcript and I'd get a tan. Father Stevens gives references to people who can get butts in the pews, not people who can climb ropes and swing swords.

Reynolds: K-Lo, the Republican party is the party of ideas, not the party of Jesus freaks. You guys lost a long time ago and you never even noticed.

K-Lo: I think Mr. William F. Buckley, devoted Catholic, would beg to differ. It's the party of Catholic ideas, just you wait and see.

Goldberg: You mean Judeo-Christian ideas, dummy. With the Judeo coming first.

Reynolds: Don't be stupid, Goldberg. This is a Christian nation and don't you forget it. (turns to K-Lo) Forget it, K-Lo. No theocracy. You lost, we won, end of story.

K-Lo: Oh yeah, Glenn? We'll see about that. Girls, attack!

The Pirate Lasses draw their cutlasses and rush towards the Extraordinary Bloggers. Malkin pulls back a little fist and drives it straight into the First Pirate Lass's nose.

First Pirate Lass: Owww! I can't believe how mean you are! I just spent a fortune on this nose. It's the Jennifer Aniston!

Malkin: And now it's the Rocky Balboa.

Second Pirate Lass: Who?

Reyonlds: (yelling) Get out now , and take this crazy woman with you or I'll heave her carcass overboard myself.

Third Pirate Lass: You don't have to be so rude. We're not your servants, you know.

The Pirate Lasses drag K-Lo to the railing.

K-Lo: You're making a terrible mistake, Glenn. I'll pray for you and your poor endangered immortal soul. Say you'll pray too, Glenn. Promise me you'll pray!

The Pirate Lasses attach a rope to K-Lo, tip her over the edge and lower her down the side of the ship. The Bloggers can hear the faint words of The Lord's Prayer float upwards.

McArdle: I need a drink.

Althouse: Don't we all.

Reynolds: Okay, let's regroup at the bar. I've had enough for one day.

Malkin: Buck up, Reynolds. At least you conquered the Phantom Menace and the galaxy is safe for another light year.

Reynolds: Stop trying to cheer me up.

Malkin: It could be worse, Glenn. You could be K-Lo.

Reynolds brightens and follows Malkin inside to the bar.