Savage and the fall of the U.K.He is, however, still welcome in Mos Eisley.
It's been more than two years since Britain banned entry to American talk-radio phenom Michael Savage, along with a short list of terrorists, neo-Nazis murderers and other vile scum.
It was in May 2009 that the British government released a list of 16 persona non grata – banned so as to protect the country from provocateurs of violence.If only the Ministry of Silly Walks had placated the restive underclass two years ago by allowing Michael "Savage" Weiner to attend the Devonshire Clotted Cream Festival, these recent riots would never have occurred, and Lachlan wouldn't have gotten away from the Tesco with that long-handled garden fork and those two cans of Batchelors Marrowfat Peas.
Today we should ask London how that deal is working out for them.
I don't wish to make light of the tragedy of the rioting, looting and mayhem raging across the country"...I just wish to exploit it like a mortician selling a gold-plated coffin to a grieving widow."
...initiated by home-grown hooligans spoon-fed a diet of state socialism and mindless political correctness of the kind Savage is such an artful critic.This is one of those rare times when I must agree with Joe, because if there's anything that might have cheered up the beleaguered Brits during the late unpleasantness, it's the sight of Michael Savage interposing himself between the broken front window of a Footlocker and a group of hoodies, while artfully criticizing the National Health Service.
Incredibly, that ban on Savage is still in place – like a vexing stain on Britain's proud history of dialogue debate and free expression.Well, to be fair, the situation in Britain is volatile, the people are on edge, and introducing Michael Savage to the mix isn't likely to relieve the tension. I mean, have you heard his voice? It makes Quint's fingernails on that blackboard in Jaws sound like a harp glissando. Turn on his radio show, close your eyes, and you'll swear you're hearing the Frank Booth character from Blue Velvet, played by a howler monkey that's huffing helium through a kazoo.
The motivations behind Britain's unprovoked and unprecedented attack on an American political and cultural commentator are by now well understood.They didn't send a squadron of Typhoon F2s to bomb his house, they just wouldn't issue him a visa. By the same token, I don't consider it assault and battery when I fail to throw open the door and invite the Mormons in for coffee, especially since they wouldn't drink it anyway
However, in the process, they smeared – and continue to smear – a brilliant pundit and best-selling author, law-abiding and non-violent American celebrity citizen.
SAVAGE: Michael Savage.
CUSTOMS: Your passport says "Weiner."
SAVAGE: I am a Weiner, but I'm unusually fierce about it.
SAVAGE: I'm a brilliant pundit and best-selling author, law-abiding and non-violent American celebrity citizen.
CUSTOMS: And what is the purpose of your trip to Britain?
SAVAGE: I'm giving a seminar on "Writing a Catchy But Succinct Resume."
Now that Britain is aflame – and Savage is nowhere in sight as a provocateur – I thought it might be a good time to revisit this shameful episode in British politics.These may seem like two wholly discrete events -- separated by years and completely dissimilar in cause, kind, scale or impact -- but just stop and think for a moment. If correlation does not imply causation, then the opposite must also be true!
Banning an insightful, inspiring, entertaining and, yes, provocative American radio talk-show host from its shores did not protect Britain from the kind of violence it was attempting to prevent two years ago. That's for sure.I don't know, Joe. The way I see it is, banning Savage kept Britain free of mob violence for two years, and they should immediately re-ban him, because apparently it's worn off, or expired. Also, they should buy one of those tiger-repelling rocks, just to be safe.
It would seem apparent, however, that Britain has made less-than-perfect choices about whom to allow into the country and whom to keep out.Except it appears that most, if not all of the people who are doing the looting are British. So I don't really see your point, unless you're talking about Root Causes and implying that the UK ought never to have permitted non-Anglo-Saxon immigration in the first place, in which case I suppose we should blame the riots of 2011 on William the Conqueror.
Let me put it another way: Britain is worse off today for not having voices like Michael Savage's present. He's a witty sage of the airwaves – somebody you might think Britain would be inviting as an honored guest in a free and open society, especially one known for sometimes outrageous but brilliant satire.Here's some of the witty sage's wit, from around the time the British put up the Do Not Disturb sign:
"The children's minds are being raped by the homosexual mafia, that's my position. They're raping our children's minds."
"…I want to puke when I hear about a woman married to a woman raising children because, frankly, I think that it's child abuse to do that to children without their permission…"
"…I said so kill 100 million [Muslims], then there would be 900 million of them. I mean would you rather us die than them? I mean what is it gonna take for you people to wake up? Would you rather we disappear or we die? Or would you rather they disappear and they die? Because you're gonna have to make that choice sooner rather than later."
Imagine how much happier the vermin would be if only their government had allowed them access to this kind of brilliant satire."…I have a number of things that I am gonna demand and one of them is that no more Muslim immigrants come into this country. No more mosques be permitted to be built in this country…and yes we need racial profiling immediately… And how did these Muslims get into England?... These vermin, these vermins, snuck in under asylum laws and the only reason there was an asylum law is that the liberals of England…said that we have to be nicer to Muslims."
Put another way, America is much better off for the artistry of Michael Savage.Our vermin are as content as pigs in shit, and for largely the same reason.
The only threat Savage poses to a free society is that he might actually expose its concealed dark underbelly of secrets, its abuses, its contradictions, its injustices.While the major benefit he offers is the conviction that however secretive, abusive, contradictory or unjust the underbelly of your society may be, it's less dark than Michael Savage's overbelly.
No one has ever been killed as a result of a broadcast by Michael Savage, though I know many people who have been enlightened.I hear the Buddha is a big fan.
No one has ever been maimed as a result of a best-selling book by Michael Savage, though I know many people who have been entertained.And one who was so absorbed reading a Michael Savage book in his backyard chaise lounge that he didn't notice his leg was being gnawed off by wolverines. Police forensics experts would later say he had been "entermaimed."
No one has ever suffered property damage as a result of attending a lecture or performance by Michael Savage, though I know many have been intellectually challenged.Although Hitler suffered intellectual property damage when Savage appropriated some of his ideas for genocide.
All this is to say Britain has made some colossal mistakes in social policy that are self-evident from the images and videos and reporting we're all seeing. The misguided decision to ban a harmless troubadour of the right, a gifted soldier of passion and truth, needs to be remembered at a time like this.So the looting, the arson, the violence and the deaths? Forget about it. But remember this wandering minstrel of reaction, this adenoidal knight-inerrant, this rhapsodic percolator of pure thought, which brews the grounds of wisdom and rectitude into the decaf of courage and detritus, lightens it with the non-diary creamer of racism, and sweetens it with the Splenda of incitement to homicide. Remember him -- this rambling jongleur, this warbling, bunion-covered mummer of righteousness. This realm, this England, this Weiner.
I can only hope, once Britain resolves its current social crisis, the political class apologizes to Savage and opens its doors to a cherished and celebrated voice that could actually help address the root problems afflicting the country right now.From your lips to God's waste basket.
And did this putz in modern time.
Walk upon England's mountains green:
And was the racist, bastard troll,
On Englands pleasant pastures seen?
And did the Countenance So Smug,
Glare forth upon our verdant hills?
And was this Weiner welcomed here,
To spew Satanic ills?
Bring me a Visa reject form;
Bring me A Pen with which to sign:
Bring me my Stamp: Denials unfold!
Bring me some Bass, me throat's on fire!
I will not cease to do what's right,
Nor shall my Pen sleep in my hand:
'Till we have kept this dipshit out
Of England's green & pleasant Land
--Hymn of the UK Border Agency Services
This realm, this England, this Weiner.
I will never understand the smallheads who are so obsessed with themselves that they reflexively insert themselves into anything. And by that I mean they believe all important events somehow revolve around them, but also that they insert their savage wieners into various inanimate objects and declare victory and dominance over whatever the hell it happens to be. Printer cartridge, bottle of Windex, rolling doughnut, it doesn't matter as long as they're inserting and celebrating imaginary victories.
You're welcome for the mental image.
Britain is a small country. I'm guessing the main reason they won't let Weiner in is they don't have room for his ego.
I have to agree with Farah, though. You can see why Britain should welcome this elfin witty sage as an "honored guest" with such anodyne, Breivikian rhetoric as this:
"If they keep pushing us around, and if we keep having these schmucks running for office catering to the multicultural people who are destroying the culture of this country ... Guaranteed. The people -- the white male in particular -- let me talk specifically. The white male in particular -- the one without connections, the one without money -- has nothing to lose, and you haven't seen him yet. You haven't seen him explode in this country, and he's still a majority, by the way. In case you don't know it. He is still the majority. No one speaks for him. Everyone craps on him. People use him for cannon fodder. And he has no voice whatsoever. He has nobody speaking for him."
A lot of fun is poked at the British national character, which is polite to the point of obsequiousness, so it's especially telling to discover that there are in fact people up with which they will not put.
Translated for the Americans, especially Michael Savage: Take it somewhere else, Buster.
@Chris: Thank God he didn't order a Waldorf Salad
Michael Savage whines: : The white male [...]he's still a majority, by the way. In case you don't know it. He is still the majority. No one speaks for him. Everyone craps on him.
Thanks for that, Porro-- the pity fuck mating call of the white male Michae Savage, in what is clearly a white male dominated culture. The following exchange, from Key Largo, comes to mind, and may help to illuminate just how pathological this complaint is:
Frank McCloud: He knows what he wants. Don't you, Rocco?
Johnny Rocco: Sure.
James Temple: What's that?
Frank McCloud: Tell him, Rocco.
Johnny Rocco: Well, I want uh ...
Frank McCloud: He wants more, don't you, Rocco?
Johnny Rocco: Yeah. That's it. More. That's right! I want more!
James Temple: Will you ever get enough?
Frank McCloud: Will you, Rocco?
Johnny Rocco: Well, I never have. No, I guess I won't.
"Entermaimed." Apart from the pesky wolverines, I believe I can say that I also have been entermaimed repeatedly simply by channel surfing past Faux Nooz. Not like the mind-raping Weiner imagines--mainly because I refuse to dilute the seriousness of the crime of rape by associating it with his hateful brain droppings. More akin to being assaulted by a clown-faced dominatrix wielding knackwurst nunchucks.
Brian writes: Thank God he didn't order a Waldorf Salad
... or a screwdriver, and yes of course it's fresh orange juice-- we've only just now opened the tin [laughing].
You know, I was actually thinking of the writing of John Cleese-- but in A Fish Called Wanda, in which he describes to Jamie Lee Curtis the sheer horror of being Brit:
Wanda, do you have any idea what it's like being English? Being so correct all the time, being so stifled by this dread of, of doing the wrong thing, of saying to someone "Are you married?" and hearing "My wife left me this morning," or saying, uh, "Do you have children?" and being told they all burned to death on Wednesday. You see, Wanda, we'll all terrified of embarrassment. That's why we're so... dead. Most of my friends are dead, you know, we have these piles of corpses to dinner.
There's a message here about the American character-- our greatest strength and greatest liability. It is what the other planetary inhabitants love most about us, and hate most about us: our apallingly candid nature, as demonstrated best by a story actor friend John Nolan told me about a visit to New York. John asked directions and was told "it's, uh, seven or eight blocks, you could call a cab or maybe walk. [poke in the gut] Maybe you could use a walk."
It wins 'em over every time-- and at the same time gets us into more fucking trouble...
Incidentally, I found, while looking up the quote above, a magnificently descriptive example of the species "troll"-- posted into the "message board" for this movie at the IMDB site the following:
You know, I've seen all this hype about how it's 'the funniest movie ever' yet I didn't laugh once throughout the entire movie.
His post was followed by several others, all of them now listed as [post deleted].
So what? It's ridiculous that Michael Savage has been banned from Britain, but Britain doesn't lack borderlin-racist whining savages of its own. (Peter Hitchens, anyone? Paul Johnson?)
Think of it this way, bgn:
"Sell crazy someplace else, we're all stocked up here."
--Melvin Udall (Jack Nicholson), in As Good As it Gets
Yeah, I know, four movie references in four comments, TCM oughta put me on the payroll.
No, my life is not the movies. Well, maybe.
Here's a movie: the conservative cruise floats past the Libertarian Seasteading Gilligan's Gulch platform, which I presume looks much like Dennis Hopper's tanker in Waterworld. It's the Sea Hawk meets Lord of the Flies. Scott, I challenge you to write the dialogue.
...though I know many have been intellectually challenged.
Yes, I think that's a given.
Brian, your Jerusalem is brill.
How can we possibly know whether to blame the riots on the exclusion of Savage until we have a full list of all the other equally likely prospects who have been excluded during the same time period? Eh? I ask you, how!?
As if Joseph Farah wasn't repulsive enough, now he writes a fucking love letter to Michael Savage, who's one of the most loathesome talk-radio personalities imaginable.
Savage is a real tough guy. I can tell by the dog. Around these here parts there are only three reasons for a man to be seen with a dog like that: he's old, his wife is in hospice and he has to walk it or he's using it for coyote bait.
It makes Quint's fingernails on that blackboard in Jaws sound like a harp glissando. Turn on his radio show, close your eyes, and you'll swear you're hearing the Frank Booth character from Blue Velvet, played by a howler monkey that's huffing helium through a kazoo.
"No one has ever been maimed as a result of a best-selling book by Michael Savage, though I know many people who have been entertained."
This is a lie. Jim David Adkisson:
"Inside the house, officers found "Liberalism is a Mental Health Disorder" by radio talk show host Michael Savage, "Let Freedom Ring" by talk show host Sean Hannity, and "The O'Reilly Factor," by television talk show host Bill O'Reilly.
"The shotgun-wielding suspect in Sunday's mass shooting at the Tennessee Valley Unitarian Universalist Church was motivated by a hatred of "the liberal movement," and he planned to shoot until police shot him, Knoxville Police Chief Sterling P. Owen IV said this morning."
"...a vexing stain..."
The title of our next album.
No one has ever suffered property damage as a result of attending a lecture or performance by Michael Savage, though I know many have been intellectually challenged.
UF quoted that above, but i wanted to pile on. It's the perfect summation of the the pitch-perfect stupidity, venomous self-pitying and pompous delusions these assholes spout every day. They can't write, they can't think and when they try it's like watching whales try and break dance.
The sentence would genius if Twain or Dorothy Parker wrote it. Hilariously revealing when it's in hands of hacks with a morally crippled belief system.
I would totally pay to see whales breakdance, which I'm guessing would be a lot more fun and with less risk of maiming, death, and property damage than Michael Savage.
But remember this wandering minstrel of reaction, this adenoidal knight-inerrant, this rhapsodic percolator of pure thought, which brews the grounds of wisdom and rectitude into the decaf of courage and detritus, lightens it with the non-diary creamer of racism, and sweetens it with the Splenda of incitement to homicide.
Scott, I love you.
"More akin to being assaulted by a clown-faced dominatrix wielding knackwurst nunchucks."
Thorlac! I had no idea that you'd missed me! My craven, gnarled, windy cavity where something approximating a "heart" is supposed to be almost whistles a song of appreciation...
Scott, sweetheart, I have to say that this is, without a doubt, one of the most poetic renderings of the ass-fat of brainless republicunts that I have ever been down-wind of, however unfortunate that the wafting odors may be... Art, honey, pure-dee, lard-fried ART. Too bad that we can't skin 'em and sell it as cracklins. To Dick Cheney.
P.S.: Here's a word you haven't seen in 20 years, and it was my security word for the above comment: "PRELL"
If that's a critique of my hair-product choices... well, I honestly don't give a rat's ass.
Ah, thanks, Annti. I do strive, whenever possible, to imbue my work with the essence of crisp, rendered chicken fat.
Do they even make Prell anymore? I remember it had a very distinctive -- which is not to say pleasant -- smell, and the main selling point seemed to be that it was viscous enough that it made cultured pearls sink slowly. I'd love to have been in the meeting when some Mad Man pitched that idea.
Dear heart, next time y'all venture south, I have GOT to teach y'all something about food, 'cause cracklins ain't made from CHICKENS. Neither, m'dear, is LARD created from chicken fat. PORK, honey, alllll pork. Hence the reference to fat-assed republicunts. That's what's wrong with BBQ in most of this country, they think that it's supposed to be vinegary and BEEF.
And I dunno if they still MAKE Prell anymore, but if you go to the 99-cent(and up) stores, you can still BUY IT. Seriously. Gack.
The viscosity wasn't supposed to be the point of those commercials, though, as I, unfortunately, remember them vividly. It was CALLED "Prell" to subliminably coerce consumers into thinking that it would give their hair the same sheen as a pearl. They'd drop the "pearl" into the shampoo, whilst a "confidence-inspiring" male voiceover murmured the wunnerful things that Prell would do for yer hair.
What you should remember, most of all, is that this piece on the world's creepiest dyed moustache is, indeed, high art.
If we actually rendered the fat off of republicunts and their corporate massahs, we'd have fuel for bio-diesel cars into the next millennium, y'know...
P.S. Again: Secret Word, no Groucho or duck included on this last one? "RELEMIES."
Perfect encapsulation for the inbred mouth-breathing racist fucktard redneck wasteoids who may or may not claim to be related to me...
Isn't it a little bit, um, FASCIST to pleasure in the suppression of freedom of speech?
Undoubtedly. It's also a bit, er, IDIOTIC to argue that Michael Weiner's inability to obtain a British visa is a sign that Oswald Mosley is controlling the Customs Office from beyond the grave. Or perhaps you feel that preventing the entry of a foreign national into one's country is tantamount to book burning, in which case the existence of the U.S. Border Patrol is a clear violation of the First Amendment.
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