Sundays With S.Z: The "Four Shetland Ponies of the Apocalypse" Edition

Originally published October 30, 2005.

Sunday Sermon

1.  Today's first message is brought to us by Dr. Mike S. Adams.  It's about the Orgasm Awareness Festival that will be held at UNC-Chapel Hill next month.  (The subtext is about how the feminists keep saying "orgasm, orgasm," thereby distressing his mighty sword.)

In case you haven't heard about this exciting event, it is focused on the female orgasm and dispelling myths about masturbation, sexuality, orgasm and other important topics.

[...]

Jessica Polka, an executive board member for the co-sponsor of the event, was recently quoted as saying that “We also have the goal of trying to work toward fighting the social stigma against female sexuality.” In other words, she wants college women to become whores without being ostracized.

Yup.  Only whores have orgasms.  Thanks, Dr. Mike, for that inspiring message.

2.  Our next speaker will be Pastor Swank, who brings the good news that "WHITE HOUSE NOT WEAKENED BY LIBBY INDICTMENT."

Of course, reasonable persons would have liked to have had a Friday without Vice President Dick Cheney’s top aide not indicted. But he has been.

Yes, and we reasonable people would also like to have a Friday without Vice President Dick Cheney not eating the hearts of Christian children.  But he has been.

But we shouldn't despair, for Pastor Swank brings us good news: there has been only one perfect person in the history of the world, and his name is George W. Bush.  And he lives!

The White House is strong because of US President George W. Bush. That’s what makes the Oval Office strong.

In each administration there is always the possibility that, with so many persons near the top echelon standing, that somebody is going to do something that should not be done. Mortals we all are, including those who circle in and around the White House.

Yes, those who circle in and around the White House are mere mortals -- however, the omnipotent being who resides in the White House, US President George W Bush, is wholly without sin, and he never, ever screws up!

So with the judicial process running its course, this is another situation hopefully being dealt with fairly. But it surely is not the demise of the White House. It does not weaken the presidency. It does not bring a blotch upon the character of Mr. Bush.

Nothing could bring a blotch upon the character of Mr. Bush, for truly he is the son of God!

3  Next, we'll hear from Hugh Hewitt, who has a piece in the Houston Chronicle called "Below-the-belt pundits KO'd Miers."

The center of the Miers opposition was National Review's blog, The Corner, and another blog, ConfirmThem.com, both with sharp-tongued, witty and relentless writers. They unleashed every argument they could find, and the pack that followed them could not be stopped. Even if a senator had a mind to urge hearings and a vote, he had to feel that it would call down on him the verbal wrath of the anti-Miers zealots.

Yes, how ever could we expect a U.S. senator to call for a vote on the Miers nomination, knowing that if he did so he would have to face the stinging mockery of Jonah Goldberg and pals! 

Anyway, Hugh's thesis is that "This triumph of the conservative punditocracy will have lasting consequences" -- and those consequence will probably be bad.  See, by failing to accept the President's choice, the Korner Kids have made it harder for future nominees, who "will face an instant and savage assault."  After all, if a "White House counsel with distinguished credentials was compared to Caligula's horse and Barney the dog on National Review's Web site," then who knows what kind of witty and relentless assault the next nominee will have to face?  It could even involve Star Trek references and insults stolen from The Simpsons!

So, the spiritual message you should take from the Christian Mr. Hewitt (author of such books as The Embarrassed Believer) is that the Corner is going to hell.

4.   Our last sermon is by  Linda Harvey, "president of Mission America, a pro-family organization which monitors homosexual activism, the occult and New Age influences on American youth."  It's called "Mom, apple pie, Halloween ... and the Christian parent," and it's about how Halloween was started by people who hate your mother.

Let's pretend your mom's name is Annie. Let's also pretend that in the small community where you grew up, back a few years, a handful of people decided they didn't like your mom. Didn't want her around. Even though she was probably the most loved, trusted, reliable, truthful woman in your community, certain people viewed this as a threat.

So they started a "Non-Annie Day."  It was a day when parties were organized – but your sweet mom was not invited. Gatherings of neighbors included food, fun, laughter – but never your mom. She was shunned, by design. 

Yes, Halloween is all about dissing your mother.

Now, let's pretend that your name is Homer.  Let's also pretend that in the small community where you grew up, people hated you.  Didn't want you around.  Because you were something of a stupid, annoying clod.  So they started a "No Homers Club."  You were shunned, by design.  

How does THAT make you feel?  I bet it makes you say, "Why don't those stupid idiots let me in their crappy club for jerks?"  And that's the message we should give our children about Halloween.

Perhaps we deceive ourselves that Halloween will be winked at by the Almighty, that when we see Him, His response will certainly be, "Yes, you were right. It would have been wrong to deprive your children of candy at Halloween. That's the really important priority."

If we think that, we are idiots.  For in truth, His response will certainly be, "Everybody who celebrated a holiday that wasn't about me is going to Hell.  I hope you and your children enjoy your eternity of fire and brimstone!"

Halloween marks and highlights the forces of darkness. It's a showcase for mediums, fortune-telling, occult beliefs, to become more and more mysteriously appealing to uninformed children, all whilst they are surrounded in today's America by the lure of "magick." We're not in Kansas anymore. It's 21st-century America, where Christian parents lovingly hand their kids novels where the child hero is tutored in witchcraft. Hello?

Of course, if we really were still in Kansas, then Miss Gulch would have to keep her identity as a witch secret, and would have to content herself with stealing dogs for use in her ungodly ceremonies instead of kidnapping children and scaring them with hour glasses and mocking their aunties.  And that's the way God wants it. 

(Back in 20th-century America, Christian parents lovingly handed their kids movies where the child hero was tortured by a witch, evil trees, and flying monkeys.  Hello?)

Like a garden, children need two things: nourishment, and protection from destruction. To teach our children that their Creator and Savior deserves love, respect and sometimes, self-sacrifice, we should as parents be shutting our doors, boycotting the candy shelves and clearly showing our children that we are saying "No" to Halloween – because we say a constant and continuous "Yes" to God.

And that way, they will certainly want to join Satan's crappy club for jerks.

Dr. Mike, Professor of Bitchology

Hey, let's check in with Professor Dr. Mike S. Adams, Ph.D, shall we, and see which imaginary lesbian he's sword-fighting with this week.

Expel Brice Horton

Ah, it appears he's gone on a holy war against a student at his own school for speaking out against Chick-Fil-A.  I sometimes wonder what it's like being in Dr. Professor Mike's class...

"All right, that's it for today.  Read chapter 13 in Modern Trends in Criminology for Monday -- Oh, and remember, I'll be in my office Wednesday, and I'll be declaring fatwas against you on Tuesday, but not Thursday..."

Note: This column contains language that may be unsuitable for some readers, especially thin-skinned homosexual activists and hypocritical bigots.

So Dr. Mike has managed to write a column that is unsuitable for himself (I'd tell you which of the two groups he falls into, but I've been asked by the producers not to reveal the incredible secret of The Frying Game).

The faux outrage over Chick-fil-a's stance on gay marriage has moved to my little campus of UNCW, which stands for the University of North Carolina – We Teach Students to be B*tchy Little Bigots. 

DR. MIKE:  (Shouting from the podium)  Where did you learn to be such a bitchy little bigot?!

STUDENT:  (Weeping)  From you, alright?  I learned it from watching you!

And no student has elevated bitchiness to a Zen art quite like Brice Horton. He recently decided to take action to get Chick-fil-a removed from the university food court because he has to have all of his meals prepared by people who approve of homosexual sodomy. 

Dr. Mike, on the other hand, insists that his all-breast meat chickenwiches be personally deep-fried by hetero furries.

And apparently, he can’t just choose to eat elsewhere.

Or he was making some kind of political statement.  Kind of like the time Dr. Mike drilled holes in the skulls of kittens on the steps of the UNCW Women's Center to protest PETA's refusal to outlaw abortion, or that time he made smoothies out of fetuses and served them to the African-American residents of a housing project to protest their opening a community garden instead of outlawing abortion, except Mr. Horton's protest occurred in four dimensional space, rather than Dr. Mike's two dimensional head.

Horton has confessed to his bigotry - admitting he's contacted Aramark, the company that handles all of the food choices at UNCW. 

That seems like two separate things, actually...

CUSTOMER:  I'd like to register a complaint.

COMPLAINT DEPT. MANAGER:  Certainly, sir, that's why we're here.

CUSTOMER:  Well, I was double-charged for --

COMPLAINT DEPT. MANAGER:  Ah-HA!  So you ADMIT your bigotry!

For the record, I am assuming that food preferences, like sexual practices, are determined by choice, not by genetics.

Just like I chose to be allergic to strawberries.  And believe me, with the tempting variety of ways one can suffer anaphylactic shock these days, it was not an easy choice (I nearly went with the peanut allergy, but ultimately I felt that had become a bit too cliché).

UNCW released a statement just a couple of days after Horton waged his jihad against freedom of religion and diversity of food choice.

 It's this kind of crusade against religious freedom and diversity of food choice that has tragically prevented the Catholic church from offering communion wafers in Spicy Chipotle and Cool Ranch flavors.

UNCW announced that Chick-fil-a will remain on campus. It must have been gut-wrenching for UNCW to make a correct common-sense decision. But even a broken clock is right twice a day.

tenure [ten-yer] noun.  The ability to bitch about your employers and customers on the internet without fear of getting fired.

Anyway, while the story had a happy ending from Dr. Mike's perspective, that wasn't good enough:

Although correct, the reason UNCW gave for the decision, as quoted by local television station WECT, is disturbing. They were quoted as saying that the management and employees at the Chick-fil-a location at UNCW are Aramark employees who "fully adhere to the diversity and inclusion principles specified by Aramark and UNCW."

In other words, the university appears to have taken the time to investigate the Aramark employees in order to see whether they had the right (that means left) values needed to remain on campus. 

Or UNCW called Aramark, which runs the concessions, asked if they're in compliance with school policy, got an affirmative response, then issued some soothing PR bullshit so people didn't clog up the food court with picket signs.  And the thing is, Aramark, unlike Chick-Fil-A, probably does believe in diversity.  After all, if you check their website, you learn that:

ARAMARK has consistently ranked since 1998 as one of the top three most admired companies in its industry as evaluated by peers and analysts. Also in 2012, ARAMARK was honored as one of the World’s Most Ethical Companies by the Ethisphere Institute. 

They're also been honored as the World's Most Unifying Company by the Flushing Meadows Unisphere.

What happened to our commitment to diversity of opinion? It is worth noting that there is no indication that UNCW investigated Brice Horton to see whether he “adheres to the diversity and inclusion principles” needed to remain on campus. Obviously, he does not.

I don't know whether Brice had to take out a student loan to pay for his education at the University of North Carolina-Wilmington, but he's certainly getting his moneys worth.  While some state schools are trimming budgets, and cutting programs such as extracurricular activities, library hours, and Teachers Assistants, UNCW continues to provide each student with his own faculty stalker.

Anyway, Brice's crime against diversity was to email a food service and facilities management company:

WILMINGTON, NC (WECT) - The national outrage over Chick-fil-a's stance on gay marriage has moved to the local campus of UNCW.

Student, Brice Horton has taken action to get the restaurant removed from the school.

Horton says he's contacted Aramark, the company that handles food concessions at UNCW. "At this time the university and Aramark are reviewing the situation and receiving feedback from the Student Government Association and other organizations on this issue," explained Horton

It's like the French Revolution, except worse, because Robespierre's bloody Reign of Terror never threatened to deprive the citizenry of their delicious drive-thru coq a vin.

The entire incident shows that UNCW is willing to investigate people to determine whether they should be excluded in order to promote inclusion. This could not get more Orwellian, could it?

If your panties are particularly prone to twisting, I guess not.  Otherwise, it kinda strikes me as  Oh-wellian.

Yes it could. The entire statement issued by UNCW is worth reading:

It's actually not, unless you're a fan of press release boilerplate.  But by all means, feel free to click on through; if nothing else, it'll make your company's employee handbook sound a Jackie Collins novel.

Did everyone catch that? UNCW will respect speech even if “that speech goes against our values.” What are UNCW’s collective values? More specifically, what speech did Chick-fil-a express that goes against UNCW’s collective values? Is UNCW saying that it supports same-sex marriage? If not, why do they seem to be distancing themselves from Chick-fil-a while “allowing” them to remain on campus?

Seriously, it's like his underpants are self-wadding.  You could starch 'em, iron 'em, but ten seconds after he puts them on, they're twisted like a Twizzler.

If I were UNCW Chancellor Gary Miller, I would do three things immediately. First, I would clarify UNCW’s stance on same-sex marriage, which had better be one of neutrality. Second, I would fire the incompetent who wrote the Chick-fil-a press release. Finally, I would expel Brice Horton immediately.

I would also complain to the referee that my underpants had me in a Tongan Death Grip, which is an illegal choke-hold in North Carolina.  Failing that, I would tap out.

Of course, the moral case for expelling Brice Horton has nothing to do with his beliefs about same-sex marriage. It has everything to do with his lack of emotional maturity.

And if you don't believe me, I have lots of other damning examples in the Brice Horton Slam Book I keep in my locker.

 If we don’t get this kid off campus, he might encounter other ideas that might cause him to lose his composure. He might throw another hissy fit, which would lead others to say that gay activists are nothing more than emotionally inferior lunatics. Such speech would promote stereotypes. And that’s the kind of speech that goes against our collective values.

Adopting Ouroboros as your coat of arms is one thing, but by this point in the post, Dr. Professor Mike's head is so far up his ass that he's run into the spelunking ladies from the 2005 horror film, The Descent, asked them out on a date, and been turned down because -- nothing personal -- but the cave-dwelling monsters have better personalities and fewer impulse control issues.

We'll be winding up our beg-a-thon shortly, so you can throw a little spare change in the cup, please click on the button at the top left, or email me for our snail mail address.  Thanks.

Dr. Mike: The Bitch is Back in Town

In keeping with tradition I went to the mall today to return the two polyester dress shirts from my aunt, and the Deluxe Barbeque Tool Set (which I was actually kind of sorry to return, as it contained "a basting brush, a grill brush, a spatula, fork, heat-resistant tongs, and 8 corn holders," but  sadly, that's 2 fewer corn holders than I need.  We're serious about our corn-holding here, and I don't want any of my guests to be stuck wrestling bare-handed with a greasy cob), and I exchanged them all for a new column from Professor Dr. Mike Adams.

This week Dr. Mike writes fanfic to PETA, in which he imagines -- lovingly, and in great detail -- kicking a dog.

Liberal Hypocrisy is a Female Dog

What fresh hypocrisy is this?  Actually, it's the same old story: Dr. Professor Mike is ticked off that PETA devotes its resources and energies toward a ban on animal testing, rather than breaking into fertility clinics and freeing frozen embryos.  You may remember when he planned to celebrate his 45th birthday by trepanning kittens on the steps of the Women's Resource Center, thereby demonstrating that feminism is gross, or vivisection is cool, or -- I'm not actually sure what his point was, but I'm pretty sure he should have just gone to Chuck E. Cheese.

This week he's laid another of his elaborate traps, in which he plans to ensnare PETA in a web of email.  Let's watch:

Dear PETA: I have a neighbor who is being extremely rough with his Golden Retriever. He kicks the dog with the side of his foot whenever she is in his way. The dog weighs about 80 pounds and is not likely to be seriously harmed by the kicking. However, the dog is pregnant. Is this animal abuse? Would you recommend reporting this to the police?
Mike Adams

I think we can all see where this is going.  Dr. Mike has painstakingly dug a Malay tiger trap and baited it with puppy fetuses.  Now all he needs is for the luckless PETA volunteer in charge of answering crank emails to wander across its fragile covering of twigs and leaves...

Mike, thank you so much for reporting this to us! Is there any change [sic] at all of sneaking some footage of this? How hard does he kick her? Also, could you give me the name and address of the owner, and can you tell me what her living conditions are like- does she live inside, outside, chained, is she fed properly, etc? Please be assured that we take your anonymity very seriously.
Thank you and I look forward to hearing back from you!
Rachel, PETA

Crap!  She's focusing on the made-up guy kicking the imaginary dog, not the potential impact on the imaginary unborn dogs.  C'mon, lady, step in the trap already!

Dear Rachel: Thanks for getting back to me. I am not prepared (morally or technologically) to surreptitiously film my neighbor. He is not kicking the animal very hard. It would not be an issue but for the pregnancy of the animal. 

Get it, Rachel?

She lives outside, is unchained, and appears to be fed properly. As an armed citizen, I am wholly unconcerned with the issue of anonymity.

Wow, I can hear Rachel hitting the Delete button from here.

I am more concerned with wasting my time with the authorities as I just don’t know whether there is a crime to report. The litter appears to be at risk, not the mother. I wonder whether the owner is even liable if any of those unborn puppies is either stillborn or deformed. I honestly don’t know the answer. Any help you can provide is appreciated.

Mike

You see, Rachel, if you care about animal cruelty, then you are morally obligated to consider abortion the equivalent of abusing a dog.  So if you're okay with beating a dog hard enough to cause a spontaneous abortion, but not hard enough to hurt it (which would require a very precise and surgical application of abuse -- I would recommend practicing first on a stuffed animal), then you clearly see no problem with kicking a pregnant woman until she miscarries.

Of course, kicking anybody, pregnant or not, is already a crime, as is animal cruelty.  And a woman can consent to both pregnancy and abortion, while a dog cannot.  In fact, it's legal to artificially inseminate a bitch, or a cow, or any domestic animal for breeding purposes, whether they're in the mood or not, which may be the root of Dr. Mike's drive to force women and dogs to share legal rights, since he hasn't had much luck fathering a child the normal way.

Anyhow, Rachel didn't fall for Mike's Judas zygote, so he's forced to shift from dialogue into his usual supervillain monologue.

Dear Rachel: Moments after I wrote you, I received an email from PETA containing the following passage, which is relevant to my inquiry: “We speak up for, among others, rabbits and foxes who are skinned alive for the fur trade, chickens and cows who suffer hellish conditions on factory farms just to end up on someone's dinner plate, and the dogs who should be treated as part of the family (emphasis mine) but are relegated to a lonely life on the end of a chain. PETA is the voice for animals who have none (emphasis also mine).”

It appears that PETA does not draw a moral distinction between dogs and humans.

Because PETA also insists that Grandma not be chained in the yard, skinned alive for her leathery hide, or eaten by the rest of the family.

Therefore, in answering the question of whether the dog’s unborn puppies are protected, we must look to the alternatives available to us if the neighbor had been striking his pregnant wife. 

So if Dr. Mike, armed citizen, saw his neighbor beating a pregnant woman, he would immediately run to the computer and email a group of animal rights lobbyists for advice.

There are three distinct possibilities:

1. Dr. Mike is an asshole

2.  Dr. Mike is an asshole and a rectum, combined together for one low price like a Hardee's Meal Deal.

3.  Dr. Mike is actually an entire prolapsed sigmoid colon, which is writhing and dancing sinuously while a Sri Lankan fakir charms it with a flute.

Or, there's always Dr. Mike's guesses:

1. The unborn has no legal protection whatsoever.

Obviously not true, as any Professor of Criminology would know, so we can scratch that one...

2.  The unborn has legal protection contingent upon its mother’s intention to carry it to term.

Well, a pregnant woman has legal protections, which supersede a fetus.  Even Rick Santorum agrees with that (for his wife, anyway.  The rest of you bitches can curl up and die.)

3.  The unborn has legal protection regardless of its mother’s intention to carry it to term.

It's called "damnapping," in which the kid holds it's mother's body hostage.  Although it's only a crime in 15 states, damnapping becomes a federal offense if the fetus forces the pregnant woman to cross state lines.

Obviously, the third possibility is precluded by the ruling in Roe v. Wade. According to that ruling, the unborn baby human is not given absolute protection. According to PETA’s stated position of dog/human equality, the unborn puppy must also lack absolute protection.

This becomes crucial when we remember that Marbury v. Madison established the system of "checks and balances" we know so well today, dividing the powers of government between the executive, the judiciary, the legislative branch, and PETA.

 PETA cannot say that the puppy does have absolute protection without elevating animal rights above human rights.

And I'm sure PETA members wriggle in this logical cleft stick all day long, when they're not liberating white rats or posing naked for anti-fur campaigns.  Anyway, Mike goes on and on, chasing the tail of his hypothetical argument until he decides that "PETA must somehow over-turn Roe v. Wade," while John Roberts, Sam Alito, and Clarence Thomas loiter outside Lincoln Center, waiting to throw red paint on dowagers emerging from the opera.

I know many women who have had an abortion and regretted the decision later. 

And if you believe that, Dr. Mike would like to introduce you to his neighbor, the pregnant dog-kicker.

Some have partially assuaged that guilt by going on to have children.

So if your mom had an abortion at any point in her life before you were born, no matter how much she may say you were wanted and planned for, and no matter how much she may say she loves you, you're a Guilt Baby, and it's your job in life to make eternal amends to your saintly aborted sibling.

I hope that PETA will not locate women who have had abortions and hand their children coloring books with pictures of aborted babies. 

Unless Elizabeth Arden starts shaving fetus butts and painting them with rouge.

 The words “Your mommy is a murderer” would be especially harmful to children who have lost a sibling to abortion.

I don't know -- it would have made my mom sound a lot cooler, actually.  But I think Dr. Mike's belief that kids whose mothers had abortions are traumatized, and suffer survivor's guilt, betrays a certain naivete about child psychology.  First of all, how would they know?  My mom was careful to speak in Pig Latin around me when she was discussing Peyton Place with the neighbor lady, I kinda doubt she'd bring up her abortion while passing the Brussels sprouts.  Second, kids are solipsists, and knowing that your mother carried you to term, but aborted a potential competitor means you win the Sibling Rivalry by default.  Third, young children aren't the most empathetic types, and are most likely to react to an aborted fetus by saying, "Better you than me."

 We must remember that children are just as valuable as dogs.

Yeah?  Try getting a team of babies to pull your sled in the Iditarod.   Try training a 6-month old to go poop in the yard.  Try deterring thieves by putting a "Beware of Baby" sign on your junkyard fence.

It should be our guiding principle as we work together. The evolution of a grate organization depends on it.

And yet, no matter how hard they try, they'll never be as grating as you, Dr. Mike.

Animal Crackheads in My Soup

 Dr. Mike S. Adams or actor John Michael Higgins -- You Decide!  (Image courtesy of Brian Schlosser)

WoC's favorite academic, Dr. Professor Mike Adams, finally turns his literary skills and scholarly expertise to the textbook market, penning a reader for today's elementary school children:  A is for Ass.

Alphabet Soup for the Conservative Soul

It isn’t always fun being a conservative activist. There are some days I want to throw in the towel and find an easier job

This is a job for Dr. Mike?  I always assumed his writing a column for Townhall was more of an autonomic process, like peristalsis, since it produced roughly the same result.  Still, even though the anus may only work once or twice a day, you wouldn't call what it does a hobby, exactly, so I'll concede Dr. Mike's point, if he stipulates that he's less industrious than a cloaca.

It all started when I took a long road trip to try and resolve a First Amendment issue with a university attorney. That was a big mistake.

According to comment cards collected after test screenings, audiences were disappointed with Dr. Mike's road trip mainly because it didn't end in the same way as Thelma & Louise.

I not only failed to resolve the issue but had to sit and endure personal insults from someone bent on defending the indefensible, simply because he knows the burden of losing the case will be shouldered by the taxpayers.

I agree, this sounds like an needless exercise in muscle-flexing, because while Dr. Mike's job as a conservative activist requires him to fling personal insults like a catapult loaded with road apples, he's always careful to make sure that the person he's insulting is A) not in the room with him, or B) doesn't actually exist.

University officials are like that. They do stupid things because they are shielded from the consequences of their stupidity. 

He's right.  They hired Dr. Mike, allow him to teach classes, even gave him tenure, and yet somehow, the Hague has still not been notified.

To make matters worse, I started itching unbearably during my “discussion” with the statist employee – Oops! I meant the “state” employee.

Dr. Mike takes his "job" seriously, and is always looking for additional ways to monetize his column.  Witness the fruits of his lucrative product placement deal with Cruex.

From Dr. Mike's official bio:  "Playing music in bars and at fraternity parties and weddings financed his education."  And his ointment.

I wasn’t sure what that was all about until I got home and changed clothes – only to discover I was covered with rashes. I had gotten into poison ivy again. Just another reason I should have joined the Boy Scouts instead of picking up that third sport in grammar school. 

I don't know what's more horrifying here -- that the decorative plants in the university attorney's office  included poison ivy, or that Dr. Mike insisted on attending the interview in the nude.

So, instead of going to bed at a decent hour, I was headed to the Medac to beg for a steroid shot. Steroids have never made me huge.

That's what she said.

I knew it was going to be a sleepless, itchy night. I was completely miserable and dejected about the future of our constitutional republic, too.

This is reminiscent of the last, difficult night of King George V, whose final words were reported to be:

"How stands the Empire?  And if you wouldn't mind, scratch my balls...there's a good lad."

So I decided to take some advice I had given my readers a few years before. Living in accordance with your own teachings is a good way to avoid being called a hypocrite by liberals who can’t be hypocrites because they don’t believe in anything. 

For some reason this puts me in mind of the MST3K episode Master Ninja II, when a puffy, hungover-looking David McCallum (as the World's Greatest Terrorist, "Castillo,") is scolded by blonde, up-and-coming young terrorist Serena ("of the Groovy Ghoulies!") for his lackluster devotion to The Cause:

DAVID:  (Disdainfully)  I no longer believe in causes.

JOEL:  Now I just believe in effects.

The advice I followed was simply to make a list of things for which I should be grateful. Actually, my advice required making a list of 26 things for which I should be grateful – one for each letter of the alphabet. I got started on “A” because that’s the first letter in the alphabet. I only know that because I went to public school in Texas.

I, on the other hand, went to a parochial school in California run by the vestal nuns of the Mithraic mystery cult, and while it had a reputation for academic excellence and a strong lacrosse team, vowels were taught only on a "need to know" basis.

A: I thank God I was born in America where I have the right to criticize public officials who can only insult me because they can’t send me to summer camp in Siberia during the middle of the winter.

This remark is taken from the syllabus of Dr. Mike's class on "The Comic Paradox: What It Would Sound Like if Oscar Wilde Had Gone to School in Texas."

B: I thank God for Glenn Beck who flew me to New York City to let me criticize hippies who broadcast anti-corporate musings on their I-pads. Oops, sorry, they had I-pad 2s. That’s the cool thing about America, though. Stupid people also have a right to speak. 

And to free air fare, apparently.

 C: Back in the 1990s, Coral Ridge Ministries used to broadcast anti-ACLU sermons by Dr. James Kennedy. When I was an atheist, I used to watch Dr. Kennedy on TV – swearing and shouting at the TV screen every Sunday morning.

It's disturbing to learn that before Dr. Mike's religious conversion, he was an obnoxious, self-centered loudmouth with a compulsive need to impose his witless, spittle-flecked opinions on inanimate objects and anyone unlucky enough to be within earshot.  I guess I owe Christ an apology.

Dr. Kennedy later helped found the Alliance Defense Fund (ADF). After I converted to the right side, literally and figuratively speaking, my employer tried to strip my weekly opinion column of First Amendment protection. 

Or at least declined to recognize articles such as:  Steers Queers and Social Engineers, Texas Gay&M University, Queer Theories and Theologies, The Pink Berets, Get Back in the Closet, The Gaystapo, Fat Lesbians on Crack, A Queer and Present Danger and Five Great Cigars and Why I Smoke Them as academic research in the field of criminology.

Every now and then we must also catch ourselves and make sure we recognize our blessings instead of mistakenly labeling them as curses. No man can win a culture war all by himself. But that is actually good news. It also reminds us that no man is strong enough to subvert God’s will for another man’s life.

If you can get enough men to join your culture war, however, you can subvert the crap out of the ladies' lives.  In the meantime, Praise the Lord and Pass the Cruex.

Dr. Mike: French-Kissin' Cousin

Just to to keep things fresh, I've decided to take a slightly different approach to this most recent piece of Townfoolery by Dr. Professor Mike Adams, and play a little game.  As you can tell from the first line below, Dr. Mike wrote this week's column in the epistolary style, an 18th Century literary technique which neatly compliments his 14th Century views, and which the Unpromoted Professor has used to great success in the past, assuming his goal was to demonstrate he's an asshole the size of the Barringer Crater.

Now, as aficionados of Dr. Mike know, his "open letter" columns follow a fairly consistent formula.  First, he'll hork up some well-worn, wingnutty gripe about an issue which doesn't affect him personally, often triggered when a woman, ethnic minority, gay person or other second class citizen threatens to upgrade and sit in First Class (but the joke's on them, because the only available seat is next to Dr. Mike!).  Then he'll suddenly veer into M. Night Shyamalan territory with a mind-boggling twist that proves he's such a huge asshole that his rectum actually has room for a Balrog and several Dwarven kingdoms.  So the game is, let's try to guess the reveal.  Good luck.

Cuomo Phobia

Dear Governor Cuomo: I am writing to express my deep disappointment with your recent decision to push for an expansion of the definition of marriage – one that allows for marriage between a man and a man or between a woman and a woman. Most of your recent critics are writing because they think your crusade on this issue has gone too far. I’m writing because I don’t think it goes far enough. In fact, I think your approach to this issue reflects a fundamental narrow-mindedness that is almost as distasteful as your Pharisaic moral posturing and your constant media grandstanding.

Okay, so gay marriage.  Without reading the next paragraph, I'm going to guess that Dr. Mike is about to up the ante by demanding the right to conjugal bestiality or incest.  He might play the polygamy card too, but that opens him up to a Biblical counter-strike, so I doubt it.  Let's read on...

Before I continue, let me introduce myself. I was born in Mississippi in the 1960s.

Hey, so was the hobby of lynching civil rights workers -- it is indeed a Small World After All.  Disneyland should add a tiny, white-hooded figure clutching a noose to the ride, just to balance out all those brown dolls.

I am a former atheist and Democrat and who voted for Michael Dukakis and Bill Clinton.

I see we've already reached that point in the column where Dr. Mike stuffs a cow pie in his mouth and sucks on it like a Certs to give his every utterance that meadow-fresh aroma of bullshit.

 I also have a younger sister named Jennifer who is single and bisexual.

This is the first time I can recall Dr. Mike mentioning a bisexual sister, and I'm pretty sure if it were true he would have exploited her long before now, so it looks like he's gone past the breath mint stage and is now just sitting on the couch, binge-eating from a bag of Bandini.

In other words, I have had some exposure to other ideas, cultures, and lifestyles. I’m no bigot. In fact, I was the first kid on my block to own a Flip Wilson record. That should count for something.

Yes, it's another count in your indictment for Assault With Intent to Commit Humor.

But let me get back to my original purpose for writing. In your recent campaign to allow same-sex marriage in New York you presented yourself as one who supports “marriage equality.” But nothing could be further from the truth. In fact, you favor a narrow definition of marriage that is based on your own irrational fears and prejudices. And it is time to show real moral leadership by embracing moral relativism fully, not half-heartedly as you have done so far.

Here's the windup...and the pitch...!

Governor Cuomo, I want to get married. 

Congratulations, Dr. Mike.  I presume the bride-to-be is inflatable, since the only items in your Registry are a bicycle pump and a vinyl patch kit.

And I want to move my new wife to New York City so we can pursue our respective careers in education and art (she is a painter). But, unless your state becomes more welcoming and affirming, we won’t be able to do that because the woman I want to marry is my younger sister Jennifer.

Say, you are from Mississippi!

It may shock you to hear from someone who openly advocates incest. But that is the way people used to react to homosexuality.

By hitting the Delete key and adjusting their spam filter to include the words "Mike S. Adams"?

Actually, we get what you're doing here Dr. Mike -- attempting to make people who support marriage equality feel as squicky as you do when the subject of homosexuality comes up.  And given that incest is pretty much a universal taboo it would probably work, if only we were able to believe that there's a woman -- even a product of generations of in-breeding like your imaginary sister -- who would sleep with you.  Alas, even the cheap, disposable Occam's Razor you grab from the impulse rack in the grocery store check-out line doesn't buy it.

In the case of homosexuality, the remedy for such a puritanical reaction has not been silence. It has been openness. Just as we talked about homosexuality constantly – beginning in the early 90s – 

So that's when your mommy told you about the gays -- the 1990s?  You never heard a peep  -- not even a snicker -- about homosexuality in the polymorphously perverse Seventies?  That's pretty sad; you must have missed a good two-thirds of the jokes on Three's Company.

we must now do the same with incest. There simply is no other way to make our lifestyle seem normal.

Sure, but this raises the question: is there any way to make Dr. Mike seem normal?  I guess you could try to set an appropriate mood, perhaps watch Faces of Death while blasting Metal Machine Music and Courtesy of the Red, White and Blue; inject a speedball of roofing tar and PCP directly into your pericardium, then use the contaminated needle to tattoo "Love" and "Hate" on your knuckles with the blood of a kitten.  And then try getting all the way through the next paragraph without thinking, "What an asshole."

Under my plan tolerance of incest must begin in the public schools. We must then extend our efforts to the national media. In fact, I envision a day when every Hollywood sitcom will have at least one incestuous couple. But, at some point, we must take the fight into the political arena.

Nope, didn't work.

When people attack you for your recent success in legalizing same sex marriage they are likely to use scare tactics. They are likely to say that you have opened the door for incestuous and polygamous marriages. I want you to resist the temptation to dismiss their remarks as homophobic. To do so would actually reinforce phobias against incest and polygamy. So, instead, please show some courage and admit that the same logic that allows for same sex marriage also allows for incestuous and polygamous marriage.

I suspect that as a child Dr. Mike had difficulty with those restaurant placemats, the kind with connect-the-dots pictures, mazes, and those puzzles where you'd be presented with three images, two of a similar nature, and have to select the one that didn't belong.  For instance, two married couples -- one hetero, one gay -- seem more alike than the ultra-orthodox Mormon and his harem of sister wives.  Or, for that matter, the consanguineous Bud and Princess.

Some have asked me whether I am concerned at all about the implications of marrying Jennifer. Specifically, they worry that once married to me she will try to bring a third party – one of her girlfriends – into the marriage. But I am okay with a three party marriage. I’m committed to marriage equality even if it means sharing a lover with my younger sister.

Dr. Mike began this column as a devastating satirical attack on liberal hypocrisy, but his mind wandered, and at some point it became a letter to Penthouse Forum.

In conclusion, Governor Cuomo, I think you have been acting like a real hypocrite. You speak of equality but, in your heart, you consider some animals to be more equal than others. And that is offensive to those of us who crave public affirmation compelled by the force of law.

Note to Readers: The author of this satire doesn’t have a sister. Nor does he own pets. But he does own a copy of A Modest Proposal by Jonathan Swift.

Below is a photo of Dr. Mike plowing through his copy of A Modest Proposal:

Fig. 1:  "I don't get it...Where are the recipes?"

As D.Sidhe once remarked on another Dr. Mike column (I'm paraphrasing):  A Modest Proposal only works because we don't actually believe that deep down Jonathan Swift has a yen for human veal.

But Dr. Mike has thrown down the gauntlet, and declared that those of us who support marriage equality are morally obliged to make a logical case for incest.  But you know what -- we've already done that, in the pages of Better Living Through Bad Movies.  Specifically, the piece on Mary Shelley's Frankenstein.

Let's set the scene:  Victor Frankenstein (Kenneth Branagh) first meets his wife Elizabeth (Helena Bonham Carter) in pervy flashback.  "Dad brings in an orphan girl whom Ken is to think of as his sister, meaning that he'll be sleeping with her in a couple of minutes."  Later:

They begin to undress, and Helena murmurs “Brother and sister no more.” He replies, “Now husband and wife.” Well, actually they are both, as required by Mississippi state law.

There's a lot of stuff in the movie about hubris, and the tragedy of Man playing God, but mostly it offers some very helpful dating tips:

First, Mary Shelley teaches us that if you are looking for a date, instead of hanging out at the single’s bar or under the corner lamp post, you might want to look for eligible partners a little closer to home, like among your coworkers or classmates. Or better yet, actually at home, amongst members of your immediate family!

Dating family members can make life a lot easier by eliminating the need to learn new phone numbers, addresses, or names. And they’re so conveniently located! Plus, there’s none of the awkwardness that comes with trying to make small talk with strangers. You and your family already have a whole life-time of experiences to discuss, so instead of prattling inanely about the weather, you and Mom can relive that time when she made you try the broccoli salad at Olive Garden and you threw up, or the day that she got high on cold pills and put the cat in the dish washer. Now doesn’t that sound like a welcome change from the stiffness and strain of the typical first date? And since you regularly read Sissy’s diary, you can be pretty confident that she’s telling you the truth when it comes time for that chat about sexual histories.

So there you go, Dr. Mike.  If your mom and dad aren't too frail to adopt, you might still have time to get a date for New Years Eve.

Programming Note:  I'll be tabulating and posting the winners of the various NRO Pageant categories this weekend (so there's still time to vote) but I haven't decided yet out how we'll winnow them down in the final round to select Miss Wingnut 2011 (perhaps an essay contest?).  If you have any ideas, please post 'em in comments.

Dr. Mike Adams in: "Walking Tall 2: The Smirkening"

Hey kids, Dr. Professor Mike Adams is back!  Okay, to be honest, Dr. Mike -- like herpes -- never actually goes away, but it's only recently that the flare-ups have become noticeable, and this week he delivers a blistering eruption of logic which proves that bullying -- a misunderstood but essential form of natural selection -- should be encouraged, because it can take an effeminate, potentially homosexual second grader and turn him into prime breeding stock.  How does Dr. Mike know?  Because it worked for him!

So read on, and discover how Dr. Mike went from cringing, pants-wetting wuss to the Buford Pusser of Mrs. Humphey's Home Room.

The Bullied Gene

Yesterday, when I was arguing with a liberal...

...which is Dr. Mike's euphemism for "dry-humping the Resusci-Annie I filched from a dumpster behind the Community Health Center."

he told me I was entirely too harsh in my assessment of today’s youth.

Their refusal to go back to Dr. Mike's cabin and inspect his gun collection is actually a feature, not a bug.

He told me specifically that I needed to be aware of the fact that in 21st Century America one out of five boys gets bullied in school on a “regular basis.” I don’t know where he got that statistic but it really made me ashamed of my country. We need to do better. When I was a kid back in 20th Century America everyone got bullied in school.

Everyone got bullied?  Who bullied the bullies?  Presumably it was their fellow bullies, but did they take shifts, or was it handled through some kind of violent daisy chain?

Those really were the good old days.  

Why is it that people who don't believe in evolution are invariably the most enthusiastic social Darwinists?

My most memorable experience with bullying came during the 1972-73 school year when I was a student at Whitcomb Elementary School in Clear Lake City, Texas. The highlight of the year was Mrs. Ogden who was a total babe (sorry for the antiquated language but I’m telling a story about the 1970s). 

Speaking of the 70s, Dr. Mike, your praise of a woman's attractiveness seems every bit as genuine and unforced as the language in a Tiger Beat cover story.

The lowlight of the year was dealing with some punk named Brian...Brian was constantly bragging about how tough he was – probably because he was short and had a Napoleon complex.

In second grade?  So I guess he'd just given up on his pituitary gland and was pumping iron every day during nutrition break?

Eventually, Brian’s bragging about his fighting ability got old – even for Brian. So, one day, he challenged me to a fight on a specific day at a specific time in the schoolyard. Like a wimp, I faked being sick that day so I could stay home and avoid the confrontation. That strategy backfired. After wimping out on my scheduled confrontation with Brian he issued another challenge. And that led to another absence from school, which was excused by another fake illness. My mother was beginning to catch on.

Fortunately, this experience helped Mrs. Adams grow accustomed to disappointment early on in her career as a parent, so that by the time Dr. Mike's adulthood rolled around, she had skin like an armadillo.

I got to spend the summer at home and away from the bully in my second grade class. My parents even sent me to a baseball camp at nearby San Jacinto College where I would be instructed by real college baseball players. I wasn’t aware that Brian’s best friend Mike would be attending the same baseball camp.

Coincidentally, 1972-73 was the first season of ABC's Afterschool Special, from which I'm pretty sure Dr. Mike stole this entire story.

I wasn’t really expecting it when Mike came up behind me and shoved me in front of a bunch of the other little league players – many of whom were also my schoolmates. But the second I turned around and saw him I knew that he had shoved me for one reason and one reason only: His best friend Brian had told him I was a wimp who wouldn’t stand up to a bully. So I did the only thing I could do under the circumstances. I punched him in the mouth.

I'm sure that's how you remember it, Dr. Mike.

After Mike put his hand to his mouth and realized he was bleeding there was a real look of horror on his face. So I punched him again – this time in the nose. And after Mike sunk to his knees and started waving his hands in surrender I began to hit him with a barrage of uppercuts until he was lying on his back in the middle of the outfield crying like a little girl. 

 Oh, my mistake.  It wasn't an Afterschool Special.  Dr. Mike is just cribbing from A Christmas Story.

By the way, Dr. Mike -- and no offense to your theft of intellectual property reminiscences of childhood -- but I spent a fair number of years teaching karate to school kids, and "a barrage of uppercuts" is not in the average second grader's martial repertoire.

The next spring when I was standing in line for a snow cone after a game in Bay Area Park I saw Mike and Brian in the line ahead of me. Mike acknowledged me and asked if everything was “cool” between us. After I told him it was “cool” Mike turned to Brian and said “He really beat the crap out of me last summer.” So we all became friends and no one bullied anyone after that. 

Then they all went on a journey to find the dead body of a boy, and they almost got run over by a train, and had fights and arguments, and got sucked on by leeches, but then they confessed their insecurities and confronted their fears and learned hard lessons about life and stuff.  It was the best summer ever.

That’s how we dealt with bullying when I was a kid. Someone picked on someone until he got fed up and learned that he had to defend himself. It was all a part of learning to be a man.

Yeah.  Again, no offense...but Dr. Mike, the gun-coddling misogynist, is to manhood what the penis pump is to virility.

When the inevitable fight was over the bully and the bullied became friends. And no one really contemplated shooting up the school in retaliation.

However, if the 8-year old Dr. Mike had had as many handguns as the 48-year old Dr. Mike does, it might have been a different story.   Frankly, it still might.

But today things are different. The state is increasingly seeing itself as the agent responsible for stopping bullying.

This strikes me as more of a solution than a problem, Dr. Mike.  But then, I've experienced bullying, so I may be biased.  In fact, I suspect you'd have to survey quite a few of kids getting punched in the head before you found one who was a real stickler for federalism.

And they are increasingly interested in monitoring bullying throughout all levels of the educational process. At my university, there is actually a guide that directs students to various government resources that can help students who are experiencing bullying.

Coincidentally, the same day I read Dr. Mike's ode to intimidation, I saw this article:

When Sirdeaner Walker found out her son was being bullied and called homophobic slurs, she told his school about it.

"I thought they would handle the situation," she said. It turned out, "the school just didn't know how to or they weren't equipped to handle it. I thought it had stopped, but it continued and escalated."

Her son, Carl Joseph Walker-Hoover committed suicide in 2009. He was 11 years old. As she grieved, Sirdeaner received letters and cards from parents all over America whose children were also bullied.

Not that I mean to diminish Dr. Mike's formative and character-building violence, but even though getting pushed at a baseball camp (which your parents are paying for, and whose proprietors could be counted on to break up a fight before it threatened their liability insurance) is serious business, it's maybe not quite in the same league as getting called "fag" and "queer" every day, elbowed and tripped in the halls, shoved into lockers, and punched and kicked by a gang of would-be toughs behind the backstop.

And even though I was never subjected to the degree of abuse many gay and lesbians kids endure, there were certain scary times in my school career when I would have welcomed government intervention (or just the sight of a teacher), no matter how much it might have offended the Tenth Amendment; and even if it would have robbed me of the chance to grow up to be a man like Dr. Mike Adams.

Interestingly, the guide defines bullying as “the act of intimidating a weaker person to make them [sic] do something.” Since other campus programs focus on the disproportionate bullying of homosexuals this seems to be a tacit admission that homosexuals are indeed “weaker person(s).”

Or gays and lesbians are seen as safe targets, partially because of the implicit disapproval they receive from authority figures like Dr. Adams, and are therefore disproportionately picked on.

In other words, the implications of their approach to this topic have not been well-thought-out. Few things are “thought” through in higher education today. People generally “feel” their way through problems.

At least, that's how Dr. Mike explained his pedagogic methodology to the last co-ed he tried to pick up.

Some people believe the government should stop bullying because we have so many defenseless effeminate young men in the public school system.

And so many overcompensating, infertile closet cases at the state college faculty level.

But I believe we have so many defenseless effeminate young men in the public school system because people believe the government should protect them from bullying. That’s the difference between the liberals and me. And I’m pleased to offer my advice at no expense to the taxpayer.

Proving once again that you get what you pay for.

Put simply, the question of whether one will or will not be bullied is largely a matter of choice.

The same applies to getting mugged.  Or shot.  Or cancer.  Choose wisely, Dr. Mike.

You can either remain the boy who is bullied or you can become the man who fights back. I don’t think the former are restricted by what is in their genes. More likely, it’s just what’s missing in their jeans.

When I got roughed up by some kids in elementary school, my Dad didn't shame me, but he did offer to show me how to block a punch, and how to throw one.  Confronted with the same situation, Dr. Mike would probably cut to the chase and just tell his son to "Turn your head and cough."

So remember parents:  start your kids on violence early -- it's the vaccine that inoculates boys from the virus of homosexuality.  However, even after reading through Dr. Mike's column, I still don't know what a girl who gets abused by her peers is supposed to do.  Punching her tormentor in the mouth seems unladylike, and would probably only increase the risk factors for dykehood, so maybe she should just elect not to get pushed around.  I hear that when it comes to violence in schools, bullies -- like Dr. Mike -- are very Pro-Choice.

Dr. Mike: Misused Word to Your Mother

As a frequent visitor to the right-wing blogosphere, I've noticed that the trade in snappy comebacks has developed a certain quality of deja vu -- one which reminds me of the exploitation and horror film market on the old pre-Giuliani 42nd Street.

Back before the area was sanitized and Disneyfied for your protection, the same double and triple bills used to bounce up and down the block, eventually hitting every reeking grindhouse between 7th and 8th Avenues.  If you missed The Love Butcher, Don't Answer the Phone, and I Dismember Mama when they played a split-week engagement at the Lyric, don't worry -- you could always catch them the following month at the Rialto or the Empire.  In fact, movies with just the right touch of gore, nudity, fetishism, or race-hatred could play the Deuce (under a variety of titles) for a decade or more.  And so it is with the bumper sticker wisdom beloved of wingnut pundits, bloggers, and comment trolls.

These rejoinders come in a few different flavors, but they're no Baskin-Robbins when it comes to variety.  There's the mocking 2-point reversal ("How's that Hopey-Changey thing working out for ya?"), in which the victim's own starry-eyed mantra is turned against him.  There's the Dennis Miller-quality comic paradox ("How come abortion is a choice, but meat is murder?").  But the one I seem to run into the most is the inescapable checkmate move practiced by 3-Dimensional Rhetorical Chess Masters like Dr. Professor Mike Adams: "If you 'tolerant' liberals are so tolerant, then how come you're intolerant of my intolerance?"  Now I admit, this is a classic gambit, every bit as revered as the Catalan Opening, or the Semi-Slav Defense, but this week the Doctor Professor gives this venerable wordplay a brilliant new twist by developing aphasia halfway through his column.

Profiles in Tolerance

Last month, I was standing at the podium getting ready to give a lecture when I noticed a young woman had her laptop computer out. I was amused when I saw that the outside of her computer was adorned with a bumper sticker that said “TOLERANCE” in big white letters. I ignored her plea for tolerance as I demanded that she put her computer up during the lecture. I simply don’t “tolerate” students who pretend to take notes on their laptops while they are, in fact, surfing the net and posting on Facebook.

I wonder if Dr. Mike would have been quite so strict if the coed's computer had been sporting one of the other bumper stickers I've seen at Cafepress, such as "Be Glad Your Mother Was Pro-Life," or, "Everything I Know About Islam I Learned On 9/11."

But I do seriously wonder whether she – or any other student promoting tolerance - really understands what the word means. It is unlikely that she does given that most of her professors do not understand what it means. Like catatonic schizophrenics, professors often mindlessly repeat words they don’t understand.

For Dr. Mike, that one, maddening word he can't quite grasp is "clitoris."  Oftentimes he'll stop a lecture dead for fifteen or twenty minutes, while he squats behind his lectern, muttering the term over and over again in a desperate, but futile attempt to force meaning from its seemingly random collection of nonsense syllables...

"Cuh-lye-TOR-iz...?  Cleet-or-ees?  Cull-eetoe-IS...?  Clitoris clitoris bo Bitoris!  Banana fanna fo Fitoris!  Fe fi mo Mitoris!  CLITORIS!"

And, arguably, “tolerance” and “diversity” are among the most repeated and least understood words in higher education today.

They are also among the most repeated and least understood words in Dr. Mike's column today.  And most days.

To illustrate my point, I am including (below) an email I recently received from a UNCW sociologist we’ll call “Tolerant Rob.” It was the third email I received announcing the showing of a pro-homosexual film at the Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, Questioning, Inter-sexed, and Allied Center at UNC-Wilmington:

The fact that Tolerant Rob has sent three emails about a "pro-homosexual film" to Dr. Mike suggests that Rob is the biggest optimist since Dr. Pangloss, or the biggest dick since Dr. Mike, so it's kind of sweet that they've found each other.

“Gentle folks~ I know that I'm ‘taking a chance’ forwarding this to you all. I know that some are intolerant, unaccepting and ‘not comfortable’ with ‘the gay lifestyle’. But someone has to have some huevos around here and that would be me.
Rob

According to the synopsis of the film, Jim in Bold, on IMDB:  "Jim Wheeler was a young gay poet and artist, who was the victim of extreme homophobia while growing up in rural Pennsylvania. In 1997, alone in a cold room, Jimmy took his own life. Five years later, armed with a video camera and Jim's poetry, three members of Young Gay America embark on a cross-country road trip, interviewing gay and lesbian youth in the heartland of America. Their stories show not only the struggles many gay and lesbian youth still face, but also the progress and strength demonstrated every day by simply being yourself."

So the film is intended to give isolated, at-risk youth the sense that their lives have meaning, and they are not alone, while also giving Dr. Mike an excuse to pop an oppression erection.

The first and most amusing thing you probably noticed about this email is that Tolerant Rob congratulates himself on the courage he exhibited in sending it. Of course, that is debatable since I am the only conservative Republican on the list of professors to whom it was sent. The other two dozen professors in my department are either independents or registered Democrats. Several are Marxists and almost all of them are staunch supporters of the so-called “gay rights” movement. So sending this email to the department is about as courageous as sending a racist email to a bunch of Klansman.

 Actually, it's more like sending a copy of Martin Luther King's "I Have a Dream" speech to a bunch of civil rights workers, and one Klansman.

Tolerant Rob sent the alert out with a judgmental statement that not only applauds his personal courage but characterizes those who disagree with him as “intolerant” and “unaccepting.”

In other words, Tolerant Rob is not willing to tolerate intolerance. Nor is he willing to accept un-acceptance. At this point, you may be wondering whether Tolerant Rob actually spends much time thinking about what he actually thinks.

Seems pretty clear to me what T.R. thinks.  Or is a refusal to accept bigotry really just a sign that you're incapable of appreciating the nuances of the bigot point of view?  I don't know, but I suppose Rob has as much chance of persuading Dr. Mike to quit being a homophobe by talking up an anti-homophobia documentary as Dr. Mike has of convincing female college students to become anti-abortion activists by drilling holes in live cats on the steps of the UNC-Wilmington Women's Resource Center.

The point that Tolerant Rob lacks tolerance of those of us who subscribe to the Judeo-Christian worldview is too obvious.

I wonder if Christ, who never spoke against homosexuality, ever feels left out of the Judeo-Christian worldview (at least, as it's defined by folks like Dr. Mike).  I mean, his name's right on the label!  It's like Libby the Kid being barred from Libbyland.

In fact, he is so intolerant and unaccepting of those he considers intolerant and unaccepting that he must underline the words “intolerant” and “unaccepting.” What is less obvious is that he also lacks tolerance towards homosexuals.

Stand by, ladies!  Dr. Professor Mike is about to don a dashiki and get his philosophical freak on!

Let me make this as clear as possible by using bold letters: Tolerance presupposes a moral judgment. 

Or it presupposes that moral judgments based on Bronze Age religious dogma and tribal mores are arbitrary, based on tradition, habit, superstition and personal taste, and are deserving of the same respect you would give to a Thanksgiving dinner guest who abhorred organ meats and yams.  In other words, you'd dish out their portions accordingly, but you wouldn't deny the rest of the party their sweet potato pie and giblet gravy.

Therefore, if Tolerant Rob claims to approve of homosexual conduct he cannot simultaneously claim to tolerate it.

Speaking of using words you don't understand...Dr. Professor Mike seems to think that "tolerance" of homosexuals and homosexuality means "barely suppressing your constant, boiling rage about didoes and buttsex," or at best, "stoically enduring the outrageous, Judeo-Christian-mocking existence of dykes and fairies."

Now, I hate to join the ranks of people who mistake a dictionary definition for an argument, but since the Unpromoted Professor brought up reading comprehension, let's see what lexicographers have to say on the subject.  First, the low-rent Dictionary.com:

tol·er·ance

[tol-er-uhns] –noun
1. a fair, objective, and permissive attitude toward those whose opinions, practices, race, religion, nationality, etc., differ from one's own; freedom from bigotry.
2. a fair, objective, and permissive attitude toward opinions and practices that differ from one's own.
3. interest in and concern for ideas, opinions, practices, etc., foreign to one's own; a liberal, undogmatic viewpoint.
4. the act or capacity of enduring; endurance: My tolerance of noise is limited.

It seems that most human beings, when discussing the virtues of tolerance, are using the first and most common definition, while Dr. Professor Mike seems to be relying exclusively upon number 4: "suffering through Blaine and Kurt's kiss on Glee while snarling and dry-clicking my revolver at the TV."  But what does the venerable Merriam-Webster have to say...?

1: capacity to endure pain or hardship : endurance, fortitude, stamina

2 : sympathy or indulgence for beliefs or practices differing from or conflicting with one's own b : the act of allowing something : toleration

3: the allowable deviation from a standard; especially : the range of variation permitted in maintaining a specified dimension in machining a piece

4a (1) : the capacity of the body to endure or become less responsive to a substance (as a drug) or a physiological insult especially with repeated use or exposure <developed a tolerance to painkillers>; also : the immunological state marked by unresponsiveness to a specific antigen (2) : relative capacity of an organism to grow or thrive when subjected to an unfavorable environmental factor

So it doesn't seem that when Mr. Rob issues a plea for tolerance, what he really means is "please silently suffer these hell-bound boys and men whose incorrect use of the penis gives Jesus the heebie-jeebies."

If that doesn’t make sense then let me illustrate with a few examples.

*I approved of the decision to include Anna Kournikova in the annual swimsuit issue of Sports Illustrated. Therefore, it is not possible for me to “tolerate” seeing her in the magazine wearing a bikini.

 Well, since Dr. Professor Mike is a strict adherent to the Judeo-Christian worldview, wouldn't he be inclined -- obliged, even -- to condemn Anna Kournikova for flaunting her half-naked body before millions of men who are not her husband?  Or is Dr. Mike's need to conclusively establish to the world that he doesn't hunger for Jack Wrangler or Jeff Stryker to treat his ass like Ma Ingalls treats a butter churn sufficient cause to relax the worldview just this once?

*I approved of the decision of Springfield Armory to send me a free personally engraved .45 semi-automatic handgun. Therefore, it was not possible for me to “tolerate” their benevolence.

And I imagine Springfield Armory will neither approve nor tolerate the lawsuits they'll be hit with by the survivors of Dr. Mike's inevitable (though still hypothetical) shooting spree at the Independence Mall in Wilmington, NC.

The problem with sociologists like Tolerant Rob is twofold: 1) They often use words they do not understand, and 2) They often claim to be morally superior to others because they do not believe they are morally superior to others.

Yet I suspect even Humpty Dumpty might point out to Dr. Mike that there's a difference between making a word mean what you want it to mean -- nothing more and nothing less -- and just being a douche-powered Water Wiggle.

The logical incoherence of moralistic relativists can be annoying. But we need to show them toleration and acceptance. They didn’t choose to be sanctimonious hypocrites. They were probably born that way.

And while there is yet no conclusive scientific proof of a so-called "jerk gene," many men cannot remember a time when they did not feel somehow "different" from their non-idiot friends.  Some, like Dr. Mike, claim that they knew as early as age five that they were assholes.

Look on Me, Ye Mighty, and Despair

Poor Dr. Professor Mike Adams, Ph.D. He couldn't find any foes to tilt at this week (all of the usual feminists, hippies, gays, transgendered individuals, atheists, university employees, and other imaginary suspects were apparently too busy to play with him), so he's reduced to devoting a whole column to lambasting somebody who posted a negative comment about one of his Townhall pieces. Sad, really.

Dear Allison:

I read with great interest your recent comment on one of my columns, which was posted on TownHall.com. In the post, you claimed that I had experienced a “sychotic [sic] breakdown” shorty after receiving tenure, which, in your opinion, explains my tendency to lambast the academic left in my weekly column.

Of course, the gist of Dr. Mike's response is that Allison can't spell. The rest of it is about how he started hearing voices, which led to him becoming the misogynistic wretch we all know and love.

But the hissiest part of the fit was directed at Allison's lack of understanding about how greatly he is hated:

Finally, Allison, I noticed that you claimed that I am hated by hundreds, if not thousands, of people for the material I publish in my columns. You also predicted that my life would be cut short by one of my enemies – that I would meet an “untimely death” as a result of my columns. I have two problems with your ill-considered remarks.

First of all, I am hated by millions, not by mere hundreds or thousands. And I am damned proud of it. Second, I do not think it is wise for you to make veiled threats against my life given that I own more guns than the armies of several third world nations. I am not concerned about an “untimely death” unless, of course, I see Hillary Clinton without make-up and subsequently have a massive coronary. So I’ll keep making fun of liberals and the Muslim extremists that they coddle.

Sorry, Dr, Mike, but my guess is that you're hated by maybe a couple of dozen people (they would be those who know you personally. You annoy a few hundred more. And maybe a few hundred others find you amusing in a perverse kind of way. But you are totally unknown to millions. Yes, millions of people don't care if you live or die. So, do whichever one you want.

And I am also sorry to inform you that your guns will not help save you from the "untimely death" you might experience as a result of your columns -- for the odds are that you'll get yourself so worked up trying to annihilate some 15-year-old who said something rude about one of your column that you'll stroke out.

But hey, maybe you can challenge a couple of third world nations to a duel (so you can use that arsenal), and die with your boots on. It's good to have goals.

My Favorite Things

HAPPY 2011!

I hope you're having a great year so far. Mine seems to be pretty much like the old one (go to Petsmart on Saturdays and try to convince people to accept cats as their saviors). But as we contemplate the future, let us not forgot our past, our heritage, our snarky roots. So, with no further ado, let me share with you one of WoC's favorite Dr. Mike tales. As always, the story is true, but the names, facts, and events were changed to protect the innocent.

Some years ago, one of my so-called colleagues heard me tell the story of a drug raid I went on in a working class neighborhood in Wilmington.

Doesn't that just draw you in? It's like the time a while back when one of my so-called friends heard me tell the story about how I went back in time and killed Hitler when he was a baby; you know that you just have to know more about how that "friend" is a liberal, hippie, feminist jerk.

I approached a crack house with a law enforcement officer who had instructed me to purchase one crack rock from a man in a wheelchair who was on parole.

Because when you want to entrap the handicapped, Dr. Mike is your man!

When the coast was clear we went inside. Before long, the drug agent was given consent to search the parolee's room. Needless to say, he was in possession of numerous crack pipes, some used recently.

Needless to say.

In order to be spared from a trip back to prison the parolee had to provide information leading to a bigger catch before the evening ended. Because of the constant influx of prostitutes, users, and other dealers that wasn't hard to do. In fact, it was a small time heroin dealer -- a friend of the parolee's - that intervened and led the agent to an amount of heroin sufficient to divert his attention from the handicapped felon.

This is truly and inspirational story of how the police keep you and me safe from used crack pipes, addicts in wheel chairs, and small amounts of heroin.

I had hoped it would only be a few minutes that I was left there in the crack house while the agent went to check out the lead. But I sat through an entire HBO movie while the crack heads drank and smoked everything in sight -- but not any crack as they assumed I was an agent.

Yes, Mike's friend the drug agent left Dr. Mike alone in a crack house with a bunch of crack heads for an entire evening! I can just imagine the call to headquarters: "Hey, I have a 288 in progress, a smarty-pants criminology professor who thinks he is a tough guy because he owns some guns and who won't shut-up about how is so-called colleagues are a bunch of dicks. I'm going to ditch him at a crack house and go on dinner break for a couple of hours. Oh, and why don't you tell Joey the Backstabbing Snitch that the big time DEA agent whom Louis the Crime Boss was looking for will be at 193 Tenement street all night."

Anyway, the punchline is that while Dr. Mike's so-called colleague thinks that Dr. Mike is a racist, the joke is on him because the handicapped addict is really white. What a great story!

If you have any requests for any other revisits to Ghosts of Wingnuts past, just let us know. Or, if you want to share your own stories of drug raids in which you participated, go right ahead.