Megan Congratulates

I apologize; this post will not say anything about morality, ethics, authoritarianism, or even journalism. I'm just going to enjoy myself in base emotional indulgence.

Megan McArdle "congratulates" Ross Douthout. While you read, remember that McArdle was up for the New York Times job, is around 36 years old, and is pressed for money. It's much more enjoyable that way.

Offering congratulations to my colleague, Ross Douthat, on his new job as a New York Times columnist seems almost redundant--he was so clearly the only man for the job.

Ah, so that's why your congrats is so belated. Redundancy, not bitterness.

If conservatism, and the Republican Party, can be rescued from their current crisis, I expect Ross to be the one swinging on a rope through the flaming wreckage to pull them to safety.

Because nothing says "man coming to the rescue" like a boy whose biggest talent is convincing people he's not actually a racist, fundamentalist professional moral scold.

That he has managed to become the leading voice of thoughtful conservatism at such an appallingly young age is a constant source of wonder to his colleagues--and crises of confidence in those who have meandered all the way to thirtiy without getting a New York Times column, or even leading a small band of Oakeshottian guerillas on a suicide mission against HHS.

Did I mention that McArdle is around 36? She expected to make six figures a year sitting on her ass in an expensive suit. Now she has to scramble for a living while in an economic downturn that she very publicly praised and supported, in her carefully hedged way. Now there are going to be years of Democratic economic advisers and she'll be in her forties before the Republicans come back to power. Douthat is 29, which means people in their thirties are the older generation. And what does McArdle have to show for her career? A stock portfolio worth half of what she paid for it, an over-priced rented house, an unemployed "roommate," a dog who eats his massive weight in kibble every day, and a car that can be opened with a can opener.

Of course, it's a blow for us--he will be missed from both the offices, and the website.

"Us"? Right.

But we have extracted a promise from him to visit regularly in return for our best wishes in his new gig.

That either means they'll miss him terribly or they're planning to blackmail him to get a mention in the Times.

K-Lo Goes To Confession

IX Marital Bliss

K-Lo: Bless me Father for I have sinned. It's been uh, two days since my last confession, I think. I'm not sure. Maybe it's only been twenty hours. Time passes so fast; one minute it's 2008 and you're 32, and the next minute it's 2009 and you're going to be 33 and you still don't have a baby and---

Father: Kathryn Jean--

K-Lo:--all your friends already have babies and how are you going to fulfill the command to go forth and multiply when you don't have a husband? Huh? Huh?

Father: Kathryn Jean, slow down.

K-Lo: Father, if I were going any slower I'd be going backwards. Who's going to want a middle-aged girl when they can have a young one who could have lots of babies? The only reason men will marry a girl is to obey God and procreate for his Greater Glory. What if it's already too late?

Father: Kathryn Jean----. Dear young lady, perhaps God has other plans for you. Have you reconsidered becoming a nun lately?

K-Lo: Sister Paul said I had to stop pretending to be a nun because it was creeping her out.

Father: A nun for real, Kathryn Jean. Your pure love for Jesus could lead you to a new direction better suited to your nature. You could become a bride of Christ instead of a bride of "Mittens."

K-Lo: Thank you Father, but I already have my life's work. I know God wants me to remind everyone in the cold, hard, cruel world to keep their eyes on Jesus and their legs crossed. Oh em gee! That's it!

Father: Yes, Kathryn Jean?

K-Lo: Everyone's been listening to me and the rest of the Godly preach abstinence, and it's been working too well! They think they shouldn't marry and reproduce when they really should be marrying and then submitting to marital bliss every time the man's man parts twitch! Where's that cheerleader uniform catalogue that I took from Derb's desk? I'll get my man yet!

Father: You know, it might just work.

The League of Extraordinary Bloggers

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

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 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.”


Reynolds: Bloggers, I called this emergency meeting because we face an urgent new peril.

McArdle: Where's Ann?

Reynolds: She's kind of stuck on a problem at home. She's trying to figure out how many people it will take to change her light bulbs. We're here to discuss Mr. Goldberg's recent actions.

Goldberg: It's not my----.

Reynolds (coldly): Let me finish, Goldfish. Thanks to this dimwit here (points at Goldberg), we have a serious problem. Some Neo-Nazi group has adopted the boy genius and is hunting us down as I speak.

Malkin thwacks Goldberg upside the head.

Goldberg: Oww! What was that for?

Malkin: We're supposed to be stalking people, not getting stalked by your rabid fans.

Goldberg: It's not my fault. I never wanted to write the stupid book anyway. Do you know how many episodes of tv I missed to work on that damn book? My wife only lets me watch two hours of tv a week as it is. Fortunately, she has to go to work sometime.

McArdle: I liked the book.

They all turn to look at her.

McArdle: There were lots of footnotes and I recognized some of the people he talked about and I felt really smart when I was done, although I skipped that entire part about Hillary Clinton. I've hated her ever since she stole that poor intern's career away from her. How is a girl supposed to get ahead if she doesn't network?

Reynolds: Nazis, people, Nazis! Coming here! With their German guns and their German Shepherd attack dogs and their scary German boots! Concentrate, for Heinlein's sake!

Goldberg: Just a minute, Reynolds. This is important. So tell me, Megan, what did you like best about my book?

McArdle: I love the way you equate liberal policies with fascism. It's such a bold, groundbreaking theory. If you help someone, you are forcing someone to pay for the help, and forcing someone else to receive help. It's genius! The minute I read the first chapter I stopped donating to charity. How---.

The Bloggers freeze at the sound of footsteps.

Reynolds: Those are jackboots, I know it! Quick, Malkin, pop out those fangs. McArdle, Goldberg, to your weapons. And hide!

McArdle and Goldberg pull out daggers and press themselves to a shadowy recess of the cave wall. Malkin crouches and Reynolds unholsters another gun. A small crowd of men swarm into the rooms. They all all bald and dressed in chinos and golf shirts.

Neo-Nazi: Come out Goldberg! We have a surprise for you!

Goldberg (falsetto): There's nobody here by us girls. Get out, we're not dressed!

Neo-Nazi: We just want to talk to you, sir.

Reynolds steps out in front of the Neo-Nazi.

Reynolds: You hear the geek. Get lost before you get a taste of old Betsy, here. And mark my words, you don't want to taste her barrel when it's dirty. You see, there's this real strong gunpowder taste and it's kind of greasy, and hard to get off your tongue.

Malkin: (coughing) TMI.

Neo-Nazi: But we don't want to harm him, sir. We want to give him a medal. He's our new hero. We read his blog Liberal Fascism every day, and on the rare occassions that he posts we always rejoice to see the kind words he has for our Leader.

Goldberg and McArdle step out of the shadows.

McArdle: I don't care how how preppy he looks, bald is not in. It lowers your desireabiliy number on the Marriage Index at least fifteen points.

Goldberg: Okay, give me the medal. I want to go to lunch.

Neo-Nazi: For service above and beyond the call of duty in attempting to clear and clean up the image of our most glorious leader, Adolph Hitler, we, the Georgia Hitler Institutional Society and Museum, award you with this token of our esteem.

He hands the medal to Goldberg, who drapes it over his neck.

Goldberg: What's it made out of? Gold? Silver?

Neo-Nazi: I'm not sure. We got the metal by melting down our retainers. Our tongues once carressed that metal.

McArdle: Ewww! That's disgusting.

Goldberg flings the medal onto the floor.

McArdle: You are so not my kind. Unless--

Neo-Nazi: Sorry, no trust fund.

McArdle sighs.

Malkin: What did mommy's clever boy do to deserve this award?

Neo-Nazi: He's written how Hitler was nice to dogs and maids, and how he was only kind of racist and he quotes from our fair dinkum friend down under, John Ray, who loves to talk about race superiority.

Malkin: By the way, you do know Goldberg is Jewish, right?

Neo-Nazi: I'm sorry, what did you say?

Malkin: Jewish. Him.

Neo-Nazi: I'm sorry, Miss, but that can't be right. His mother is Episcopelian, therefore he can't be Jewish.

Malkin: Are you Jewish, Jonah?

Goldberg: Malkin, don't I owe you a hundred dollars?

Malkin: It was two hundred.

Goldberg: That's my entire allowance for the week!

Malkin whistles "Hava Nagila". Jonah hands over a wad of money.

Reynolds: Okay, you're done, all Neo-Nazis get out. We have work to do, Bloggers.

McArdle: Jonah, you were so brave, the way you leaped out of the shadows to face those Neo-Nazis. Tell me you don't practice a protectionist marriage, and that you'll join me on the capitalist free market of Love!

Goldberg: Sorry to break your heart, but the money all belongs to my wife.

McArdle sighs again.

McArdle: Glenn?

Reynolds: The missus would chain you up in the basement and feed you my body parts, inch by inch, while I was still alive.

McArdle: Okay never mind I have to run.

Malkin: Next time you call an emergency meeting, Reynolds, make sure someone more valuable than Goldberg is at risk.

Reynolds: Sorry, Malkin. I just feel lost without Bush, you know? Nothing feels the same anymore.

Malkin: Show some spine, Reynolds. As long as we have weapons to buy and immigrants to hunt, America will endure.

K-Lo Goes To Confession

VI Missed Opportunities

K-Lo: (dully) BlessmeFatherforIhavesinnedit'sbeenthreedaysincemylastconfession. (Sighs heavily.)

Father: Kathryn Jean, is that you? You sound so---different. Is something wrong?

K-Lo: No.

Father: Kathryn Jean, you wouldn't lie to a priest, would you?

K-Lo: (Sighs.) No, Father. I just can't talk about it.

Father: Kathryn Jean, a burden unshared is a burden doubled. Please, talk to me.

K-Lo: I can't, Father.

Father: Kathryn Jean, Christ sent you to confession to ease your burden. You must talk.

K-Lo: It's just--it's (whispers) about s-e-x.

(Pause.)

K-Lo: Father?

Father: (Deep breath.) Go ahead, Kathryn Jean.

K-Lo: Father, I've been a good girl all my life. I obeyed my parents and the pope and never did anything that I shouldn't have. My page in God's Heavenly Accounts is absolutely blank of bad deeds.

Father: But----?

K-Lo: Bristol Palin, the Governor of Alaska's daughter. (Sob.) She-she-(sob)-she (whispers) did it with some boy. And now she's going to have a baby and---and---.

Father: And your generous heart aches for this poor fallen child?

K-Lo: No! Nobody cares! They're all saying at least she's not going to kill her baby and he's a hocky-playing stud and she gets to keep the baby and have a wedding and I don't because mean old Mitt doesn't want me. It's (sob) no (sob) fair (hic!).

Father: Kathryn Jean, are you jealous of this girl?

K-Lo: No father, I just want her to be thrown out into the street and forced to beg for her living like the slut she is. How will people learn to behave if they don't suffer? God has to punish them.

Father: She is carrying a child, Kathryn Jean. Some might say she is already suffering for her actions.

K-Lo: Not enough, Father. She gets a wedding and I bet her parents will give her anything she and her baby need without any suffering for it at all. She gets to buy those cute little outfits and a long white Christening gown and wedding gown and.... (More sobbing.) What do I get for being a good girl? Nothing! Do you know what is happening to my girl parts?

Father: Young lady, I still believe God has a plan for you.

K-Lo: No, I mean it, Father. I have no idea what's happening (whispers) down there. My mother said a lady doesn't even know what "it" looks likes. Or "they," I'm not sure which.

Father: Kath--

K-Lo: Excuse me, Father, but I just had an epiphany. If I get "knocked up" then a nice boy will marry me, too. It happens all the time, according to Byron York. Father, I gotta run. I'm a girl in a hurry.

Father: No! Wait! Stop! Come back! Don't!

K-Lo: Wish me luuuuuuuuck!

Why wasn't my Louis Vuitton bag on sale?!?

Having sales is a classic price discrimination strategy--the shoppers who love a dress so much that they won't risk losing it, or can't wait to wear it, pay full price. Those who care less, have less money, or have less urgent time preference wait and pay less.

So why are sales common in the midmarket, but unheard of at both discounters and many luxury brands? I know you can't figure this out yourself, so I'll tell you. Rich people have lots of money to spend and poor people don't!

It's not because price discrimination wouldn't work; there are people who would buy a cheaper iPod or Louis Vuitton bag. For instance, I bought an iPhone but I had to charge it unlike the rich people who can pay cash. And the iPhone wasn't on sale. It's no fair that I have to spend so much money to fit in with my friends!

The answer is so simple that even the simple-minded poor people could understand, but I'll tell you anyway because I'm paid to state the obvious. Rich people can pay for quality, poor people can't. Moreover, people love love love to shop at cavernous warehouses with too few check-out clerks and cheap prices. Every time I "contemplate" my Rabbit, I get a little extra thrill from remembering that it was $11 at Costco. Rich people, however, get their thrills by owning something you, a poor person, cannot own. Did I mention I own an iPhone?

Excellent!

Some people might say that it's unkind or out of line to mock conservative women, as I often do. Fortunately, one of them said it's perfectly okay, and joking about "those stupid women!" is even worth defending.

Is it Still Legal to Make a Joke Like That? [Kathryn Jean Lopez]

My plane is late. Man next to me says: "It must be a woman pilot. Women
are always late. She must be doing her nails."

Thanks, K-Lo. It's nice to get the Vatican Medal of Approval, With Virgin Clusters and Fig Leaf.

Such Beautiful Creatures

Oh, Kathryn Jean Lopez, you never disappoint. All those years of CCE classes I took were not in vain, for it helped me understand how one person could be so self-deluded. Once you've seen gay men marry and have children just to be accepted by the Catholic Church, Lopez is a piece of cake to understand. For Lopez, God is the Magical Marriage Fairy. Do everything he says, and she'll achieve the impossible: Find someone willing to overlook her stupidity and single-minded devotion to her cause. (But I repeat myself.) It's not her looks; not-beautiful women marry all the time, including not-skinny women. People who have been married a long time know that the surface fades away, and the inner person is the one you actually see. It's the attitude of blind submission, the lack of humor and proportion, the all-encompassing neediness, that drives people away.

Lopez wrote an article on the horrors of in-vitro fertilization, that Frankenstein procedure that lets couples finally have the children they long for. That's supposed to be a good thing, but it's not good enough for Katy Jean, because the only reason for sex is to let God impregnate you--or not, as the case may be.

This position is much maligned, but if you actually think about it, you
don’t have to be Catholic to notice that there is some wisdom in totality, the
idea that there is something very good about giving yourself totally to your
spouse — not putting up barriers and introducing artificial methods and
procedures into your reproductive lives.

Uh huh. I want nothing more than to totally give myself to my spouse, because there's no dividing line between me and him. I have no boundaries; I belong totally to him and not myself. My body is his and God's, not my own. I have no choice when it comes to when I have children, or how many, even if it should cost me my life.

Mind you, this is only for women's reproductive lives. Men can do as they please. Medical procedures are fine if they benefit men and women's non-baby parts. Artificial hearts, shunts, colostomy bags, all other medical procedures are just fine. When Pope John Paul II was shot, God's will wasn't followed; the doctors did everything they could to thwart His Plan--for surely if God let the Pope get shot it was meant to be, right? Just think of the martyrdom! How many lives could have been saved in the future by the Pope's death? Did the doctors think of that? I doubt it.

Kathryn Jean Lopez is in her thirties, and not getting any younger. Her eggs are getting little wrinkles and bad hips as we speak. Hurry up, Katy Jean. As you've said so often, selfish career women often find out they've waited too long, and one day you and your husband might be one of those couples depending on science to make up for God's lack. But I'm sure you'll just accept God's will and go through the rest of your life childless, like you tell everyone else to do.

Ann "O-Ring" Althouse, NYTimes Published writer, speaks!

I haven't read Ann Althouse in months, so it's both shocking and amusing to see what she's up to now. Post after post sneers at Barack Obama's popularity, and no detail is too trivial to create observe. It's an Onion Ringapalooza, all the time. Frankly, I'm surprised she isn't commenting on Obama's man-breasts.

There's a lilting cadence to CNN's pronunciation of the name:
ba-ROCKO-ba-ma, with an arcing, hopeful inflection. It's most noticeable when
they say "John McCain" soon after. The nonObama candidate's name is said in a
leaden singsong, ending in a flat low note.

Next up: Althouse reports the weather is biased for Obama, as it has not rained on his parade.

It's like visiting an uncle you haven't seen for decades, and finding him wearing a tinfoil hat and listening to Alpha Centauri through his cavity fillings.

Flashback Megan

Megan berates a student who emailed her for help. Megan, who is psychic, has determined that the brat just wants someone to do her homework for her.

Bleg
08 Feb 2008 09:01 am
I'm looking for a particular study--one in which students were given a piece of (false) negative information about a teacher, and then told this had been a mistake, that the bad information was about someone else. Nonetheless, when the students who had gotten the bad information were asked to evaluate the teacher, they systematically ranked him/her lower than the students who had never heard it--even though they now knew this to be false. Can anyone help? I had the study, but I can't find it, nor remember the name.

Woops, I'm sorry. That's Megan asking someone to do her homework for her. Here's the other post.

Amusing moment of the day
11 Feb 2008 01:22 pm
I got an email from a student today asking me to do her homework. This is not exactly unusual--the more thoughtful ones provide word counts that I am supposed to hit--but usually they try to be a little more subtle, asking me to "summarize" or "clarify". With the typical conviction of the teenager that adults are total morons who were never young, they expect that I will not recognize the poorly disguised voice of a blurrily photocopied handout peeping out of their request. This one bypassed
such subterfuge and threw herself on my mercy. Having already passed ninth grade, in however desultory a fashion, I find myself unwilling to take on the repeat burden of someone else's homework. I kind of admire the chutzpah of the thing, to be sure, but I am afraid America's students will have to struggle on without my help.

Megan, who frequently berates others for being impolite, cuts a kid to ribbons in the pages of the Atlantic. Imagine how humiliated the girl felt. A simple rejection and enjoiner to do one's own work in a private email would have been enough, but Megan enjoys sneering at others.

Megan tries to be clever, with predictable results.

I thought I was done for the day and they drag me back in.

Megan McArdle responds to August J. Pollak's cartoon about her callousness regarding refugees.

Who says the left has no sense of humor? I mean, who aside from August J. Pollak, that is?

First, that doesn't make sense. If she's trying to say that Pollack doesn't have a sense of humor, she's not really making the point. She's implying Pollack said the left have no sense of humor, which doesn't fit the context. Second, she's spreading the cartoon by making note of it. Once again, her ego won't let sleeping dogs lie. Finally, this is very poor snark. No bite, no snap. Just Megan "tee-hee"ing yet again at her lack of compassion and self-awareness. She should be ashamed, but shame is for the little people, evidently.

Scarlet McArdle Speaks

Most people just don't seem very interested in battling subtle bias.

The earlier anti-racism movements had clear goals. Free the slaves, change the Jim Crow laws, tell people they ought to treat black candidates the same as all the others. The new battle is against an endless battle against one's own thoughts. This sounds fine for people who are professional intellectuals, especially if they are focused on race or gender issues. I think that when feminist blogs say, "Everyone is sexist--we are not blaming you, but we need your help to stamp it out" they think they're extending an olive branch. But to most people, I suspect it just sounds exhausting.

And, to tell it true, the newer forms of sexism and racism aren't as bad as what proceeded them. With civil rights, we were asking people to slay dragons. Now we're asking them to spend the rest of their lives exterminating mosquitos. It may be true that a swarm of mosquitos is almost as bad, in toto, as a single dragon. But they don't summon the same sort of emotional energy.

Equality is so tiresome. Especially when you have to think about it all the time. It's just so much easier for white people to save their emotional energy for important things, like finding the right texture of tofu and dresses that fit. That's a more suitable way for a middle-aged white lady to use her beautiful mind.

Jesus, Megan, if you're too lazy to think about someone else's suffering and difficulties, don't admit it in public. It makes you look bad, in case you didn't know.

P.S. You're making this waaaaaay too easy, Megan. You might want to hire an assistant to catch mistakes in spelling (mosquitoes, not mosquitos) and humanity.

Everyone Should Have a Goal

I just noticed Megan McArdle has a section on her blogs for quotes, called "Comment of the Week." She quotes Amanda Marcotte:

People don't think you're a feminist, because you don't give two shits about
feminist ideas outside of ideal thoughts about how women would be more equal to
men if we comically aped masculinity rituals like waving guns around. I don't
think you're anti-feminist so much as just too self-absorbed and an intellectual
lightweight to really be considered a feminist.

I am *so* jealous. I've said lots of interesting things about Megan but she's never quoted me. And it's not like I'm not quotable. Mr. Mark Steyn put up one of my comments about him on his front page. If Mr. Mark Steyn, the famous conservative intellectual leader and former disk jockey, thinks my insults are good enough for the front page, why doesn't Megan?

Is it because I'm an English major? No, Megan majored in English too. Is it because I'm a woman and therefore can't be accused of sexism? No, Ms. Marcotte is a woman too. Is it because I don't make up zippy little comments? Does "world's laziest econoblogger" count for nothing?

But maybe I'm wrong. Maybe Megan is being kind to the little bloggers like me, not wanting to pick on small fry. Or maybe it's no fun to have little bloggers make fun of you. Nobody else feels sorry for you because they never heard of the person who insulted you. So she is forced to quote a big name blogger on her front page. That shows how important she is, since important bloggers are criticizing her.

Sigh. I guess I'll just have to try harder. Although I'm kind of busy right now, recording the strange tale of George Bush's drunken car crash and his rescue by K-Lo, his number one fan....

K-Lo on Rushbo

Kathryn Jean Lopez on Rush Limbaugh:

He's human, but one heck of one, who gives superior performances day in and day
out, and when he's down, he always gets back up.

That's the Viagra, dear. Your mother will tell you about it some day.

Obama has another secret plan!

Obama on withdrawing from Iraq: maybe I will, maybe I won't.

It's not that people are stupid to believe in Obama. It's not that Obama's evil. It's just that rich people hate you.

Bonus Megan

Q: Do you think the world (human civilization) has already passed its best point, or is that yet to come?

A:(McArdle): Mathematically, it is likely that we are near the peak of human
population. On the other hand, I'm encouraged by the incredibly rapid economic
change going on now. I think that getting richer has made us more moral - more
careful about human life and suffering. So if we keep getting richer, I expect
that we will also get better, with more morality, more art and culture, and more
of almost every other good thing.

Well, that explains a lot. Namely why McArdle thinks rich people are better than poor people. And why we, the richest country on earth, are so very, very good to everyone else on the planet.

It's hard to be superior.

Am I too moral and good?

I dunno, my mother, who is much better than your mothers and descends from a superior type of monkey with extra shiny tails, taught me how to behave to the lower classes.

But I am always fair, as my diverse group of upper class Manhattan careerist white friends always tell me. Life is complicated, I am often groped in the dark, and who is to say what is right or wrong except the moral relativist lefties?

Blog sisters and brothers, don't be haters. That's so hippy. Be nice like me.

Anger makes me giggle inappropriately. I don't know why.

K-Lo is stupid

Kathryn Jean Lopez believes demons roam the earth, looking for people to possess. (The article is about Louisiana Governor Bobby Jindal's participation in an exorcism when in college.) They take over the person and make them do evil things. I understand the Catholic Church is on a first-name basis with demons. The Vatican even teaches a class on demon fighting, something that I would love to take, as a huge Buffy the Vampire Slayer fan. But I'm very curious, which demon possessed "Susan"? As a fellow Susan (more or less), I want to know what is circling the globe, looking for people to seduce.

[...T]he Catholic Church unequivocally teaches that angels and demons are real personal beings, not just symbolic devices of literature and myth (see Fr. John Corapi's article). The Catholic Church has a cadre of exorcists, who teach that demons attack humans and that Christ came to deliver us from Satan's evil rule by power in this fashion. According to the Catholic Church, demonically afflicted persons can be effectively healed and protected either by the formal rite of exorcism, authorized to be performed only by bishops and those they designate, or by prayers of deliverance which any Christian can offer for themselves or others.

Was it Agares, who teaches people to cuss? Vapula, a female demon who teaches philosophy? Yeter'el, who is half human? Furfur, who can be forced to tell the truth if in a magic triangle? Since we're on a first name basis with so many demons, it would be nice to know his or her name. Maybe Jindal can order the public schools to start teaching demonology along with intelligent design.

Although Lopez thinks Jindal needs more seasoning and time to clean up Louisiana from its demon onslaught, she does favor him for a high political office some day. I look forward to the establishment of a Cabinet post in Demon Fighting and Exorcism. If we have an enemy we won't have to go to war, we can just exorcise his demons instead, and he'll be Godly once again, even if he doesn't believe in God. Problems with La Nina? Pray to God and the angels for salvation. Crime? Nation-wide exorcism! In fact, there is no problem that can't be solved without God's help and prayer. Which is why the Christian nations have no problems--or they wouldn't, if it weren't for those meddling demons.

It's all about the money.

Don't rightwing pundits ever get embarrassed? Is no idea too stupid or obvious to state? If I went to the Korean Rev. Moon's Washington Times or Australian Rupert Murdoch's New York Post, could I get them to pay me for articles decrying the menace of godless communism or evil Baltic anarchists? I can be shrill and stupid too if I'm paid for it.

Mary Maggie Gallagher complains that gay marriage will mean infidelity will invade marriage and force the separation of church and state. This situation already exists with straight marriage, but reality doesn't pay cash for wingnut stupidity. The Post does. And, horrors, if they want to destroy gay marriage, they'll have to pay to try. In fact, most of her complaints are simply about money. Churches might lose money if they want to be bigots and bigots will have to pay (to sue) to keep their bigotry.

The funny part--there's always a funny part, that's why I'm here--is that Gallagher's nemesis is also her salvation.

National Public Radio reported this week, "Two titanic legal principles are
crashing on the steps of the church, synagogue and mosque: equal treatment for
same-sex couples on the one hand, and the freedom to exercise religious beliefs
on the other."

If you tear down the laws separating church and state, you are also tearing down the laws separating mosque and state. In your hurry to impose your superstitions on others, you might make your greatest nightmare come true--letting Islam form the laws for the US. Of course that won't happen, but we're talking wingnut, not reality.

Irony of ironies: the Post's pop-up advertisement was for a "dumb test." Very convenient!

Added: Dammit, Roy beat me to it, and is funnier to boot.

The Corner is stupid.

At the Corner:

Re: Ah, Fr. Greeley [Jim Manzi]

Ramesh,

It's kind of hard to be asked:

How many of the male readers of this column who are habitues of bars, locker rooms, commuter train bull sessions, pool rooms and men's clubs have not heard the indigenous racial slurs of such environments applied to Obama?

without bursting out laughing. Pool rooms? And Men's clubs? I almost dropped my fedora. Who's reading his column?

Maybe him, from the post immediately preceding Manzi's?

Dog Lovers' Corner [John Derbyshire]

... I had dinner last night at the Leash Club in midtown Manhattan.
Never been in there before. Lovely place, quiet & inconspicuous, with liquor
lockers for members' bottles, a private-club custom left over from
Prohibition. The Leash is so classy they have no website — that's as classy as you can get nowadays. A google turned up only this.

I think I've been inside most of the New York private clubs at one time or
other, but the Leash is now top of my favorites list.

I say, Derbyshire, it must be a tip-top club, wot?

One of the funniest parts of the Corner is watching everyone pretend to be minor characters in a P. G. Wodehouse novel. Alas, there is no Jeeves to make things work out in the end.

K-Lo Goes to Confession

V Dearly Beloved


K-Lo: Blee-e-e-. Bless m-e-e--. (Breaks down in uncontrolled sobbing.)

Father: Kathryn Jean, thank The Lord you're back. I was so worried, young lady, when I received your wedding invitation.

K-Lo: (wailing) Fah-fa-faaatheeeer!

Father: There, there dear. Let it out. I know it hurts.

K-Lo: Father, he didn't want me! "Mittens" didn't want me!

Father: Dear child, he's a married man. I'm sure if he knew you he'd grow to appreciate your Godliness, but you can't marry him. It's against the law.

K-Lo: But his grandfather had multiple wives! And in the Bible--

Father: Kathryn Jean, I never thought you would be a cafeteria Catholic.

K-Lo: (Gasps.)

Father: Yes, I said it and I meant it. Marriage is only permitted between one man and one woman, and Mittens--I mean Mr. Romney--is already married. I'm sorry, Kathryn Jean, but you will have to obey me in this matter.

K-Lo: If Mr. John McCain is elected he could choose Mittens for vice president, and when McCain leaves office Mittens could become president. The president can make any laws he wants because it's God's will that he's the commander-in-chief.

Father: Kathryn Jean, do you remember taking Civics with Sister Paul of Tarsus?

K-Lo: Of course, Father. Sister Paul taught me that prayer is always appropriate, no matter what the circumstances. She prayed under her breath every time she talked to me.

Father: (coughs) Yes, praying. Sister Paul told you that the president doesn't make the laws, Congress does. And Mr. Romney couldn't change this law anyway because it comes from God. Now be a good girl and go home to your mother. She's worried sick and, frankly, a little angry. She has fifty pounds of shrimp and one hundred chicken kievs stored in the church cafeteria's refrigerators, and she wants to have a word with you.

K-Lo: It was so awful, Father. Mittens wouldn't even talk to me and Tagg laughed in my face. Then the boys played keep-away with my bouquet. My dress got all wrinkled and dirty when I gassed up the car. And there was the incident with the police which totally wasn't my fault. I just needed to a little something to steady my nerves on the drive home, but those meanies called the police and I almost got arrested.

Father: Kathryn Jean, you didn't drive home inebriated, did you?

K-Lo: Of course not, Father! Everyone knows ladies don't go to bars alone. It was just a little misunderstanding at the Keebler factory. They don't let people into factory for hygiene purposes, and they really don't like it when you climb on the conveyor belt to reach the fudge stripes. But they let me go. I think they felt sorry for me because I was still wearing my wedding dress and crying a lot. By the way, Father, who's Miss Haversham?

Father: Never mind, dear. Just run on home and don't give up hope. You'll have the husband and children you want, one day.

K-Lo: Thanks Father. I feel much better now. I'll never give up or lose faith. After all, there's still a chance I can wear him down on the cruise!

Father: Bless you, you poor child.