Wednesday, November 23, 2011

Mayor Mike: Episode I: A New Dope

By Keith, World O' Crap's Municipal Megalomaniacs Correspondent.

Introduction

Dear reader, cherish the thought should you choose to continue: No Mayor of the City of New York has ever been successful in a bid for higher office.

It's either an optimal steady-state solution to a turbulent non-linear surface, or perhaps dumb punk luck.

But whatever it is, let us rejoice such that our odds against it ever occurring are so favorable.
"So...am I supposed to pardon this turkey, or what's the deal?"

Mayor Mike

There is nothing unusual about media barons buying government. Mayor Mike is a media baron. His personality is perhaps a bit dull compared to those of Chandler, Hearst or even the Sulzbergers, but intellectually ingenious for the early embrace of electronic publishing, as well as the velocity of information through the Bloomberg data corridors.

Global trades of equities, commodities and foreign currency exchange are all informed by the rigorous data mining capabilities of Bloomberg's portal.

But unlike his competitors, Rupert Murdoch for example, Mayor Mike isn't at all concerned with pushing Flintstones reruns to Tirana, Albania via cheap Intelsat allocations acquired on the fly. This is some other kind of data, bits, bytes and hexadecimals determining the flows of capital through global exchange of contracts, legitimate or otherwise.

Mike's only competitor in this arena is the Thomson Reuters publishing empire.  A per-person monthly subscription to either product will set you back about one thousand eight hundred US dollars. The Flintstones are loss-leaders for all the Murdochs or Mordors out there carpet-bagging the developing world. Compared to Mayor Mike's personal take per transaction, it's nothing but stale peanuts.

To Be Continued in Chapter 2: When Electrons Collide!  At This Same Theater!

MaryC's Holiday Gift Report: The Pleasure Chest Edition

 
Oh, God. A plush toy which sounds like it's singing through one of those electronic voice boxes, and sporting a mouth that looks like a Today Contraceptive Sponge.  So if you ever wondered what the Chipmunks would sound like it they all had throat cancer, well...Merry Christmas!

(I'm not taking the fall for this one.  You can blame thank Bill S.)

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

Ann Coulter Makes Rob Long

Rob Long was one of the Speakers on the NRO Ship of Fools Cruise back in August, but I disqualified his headshot from the Miss Wingnut Pageant -- despite being an unusually smug and douchey example of the art form -- because unlike most of the contestants he actually has a few entries on his resume outside the field of Professional Whining.

But just because Rob has a slight acquaintance with the world beyond the right wing bubble does not mean he is immune to its strange fevers and dark passions.  Witness this sonnet he's cranked out in praise of Ann Coulter's feminine charms:
Unapologetic, Unsinkable, Unwavering Ann Coulter
Had she been born a century ago...
...it would explain those missing co-eds and that brownish-red ring around her bathtub.
...Ann Coulter​ would have been a movie star.
And Max Schrek would have been shining shoes outside the UFA commissary.
 She’s got movie star eyes:
Three, in fact.  One belonged to Sammy Davis, Jr., one to Sandy Duncan, and the third was acquired by Ann in 1997, when she rolled a drunken Peter Falk outside Musso & Franks.  Friends have advised her to take up a less gruesome hobby, like collecting Troll Dolls, or scrapbooking.
They’re big and round and they lock onto you with the intensity and fire that silver nitrate film was invented for.
Unfortunately, they're equally as volatile, and during a visit with her parents to the MGM lot in 1967, Ann's eyes caught fire in the film vault, burning the Technicolor scenes from Broadway Melody,  the Three Stooges musical short, Hello, Pop!, several silent Our Gang comedies, and the camera negative of London After Midnight.
 And she’s got a movie star laugh:
Specifically, Eddie Deezen's.
It’s full and round and loud when she wants it to be, and she almost always wants it to be.
This also describes her attitude toward Jonah Goldberg's ass.
But more than her starlet eyes and her ravishing laugh, Ann Coulter is having fun. She loves being the unsinkable, unapologetic Ann Coulter.
I never really thought of Ann Coulter as a refugee from the Golden Age of Hollywood -- a latter day Veronica Lake, perhaps, or -- with her puckish sense of wit and whimsy -- a modern Carole Lombard, or Skelton Knaggs.  But perhaps Rob was inspired by his own resemblance to Thomas Mitchell's eyebrows.
I assume Rob saw a recent photo of Ann that sizzled with old time Glamor and Allure, and caused him to see her in this fresh new perspective.  Here's the image that accompanies his post:
I think I'm in love.
And that drives the left around the bend, which is reason enough to list Ann as one of the nation’s top conservatives, let alone top female conservatives.
Because as Socrates said, "It's not the quality of your argument that will carry the day, but how big a snot you can be while making it."
We already know the basics: Ann is a dazzlingly gifted polemicist. She’s a scary-smart writer—
I may not agree with your politics, Rob, but even I've got to admit -- when you're half-right, you're half-right.
readers of her latest book, Demonic: How the Liberal Mob is Endangering America will have noticed a new level of power and philosophy in her writing.
 The title, along with the black candles and blood-stained goat skull in her living room, hint at the source of Ann's increased powers.  Therefore, Unbeliever, beware when you crack her tome, for it is full of the deadliest philosophy, and has been known to kill with a single syllogism.
On television, where we all (sadly) get increasingly more of our information, Ann Coulter is a dervish of debate and verbal smarts: Ann never backs down, never shrugs a question and, what’s more, alone among the pundits (left and right) she’s never weasel-worded an answer.
Ann Coulter: glamorous movie star.  Sufi ascetic.
This gets her into trouble—there are protests in the universities, outrage in the left-wing press, and general bafflement among the smug media courtesans. How could this blonde she-devil capture so many readers? How can this troublemaking, outspoken lady, clad in her chic little dresses and glamour-girl shoes, be so popular?
If by "popular" you mean "continues to be stocked in Dollar Stores long after her Sell By date has passed and the button has popped up on her lid," then yes.  It's a mystery.
Ann is our powerhouse, our Patton.
"Coulter...You magnificent bastard!  I didn't read your book!  But I understand it's being given away free with a subscription to Human Events..."
 Ann marches in front of our parade with a fearless wit, and in sexy heels, too. 
You're really fixated on her feet, Rob.  I'm no dating and romance expert, but I assume the next stage of your relationship will involve you sneaking into her bedroom during a cocktail party and trying on her fuck-me pumps.   Best of luck to you crazy kids!  and bring a shoehorn.

Monday, November 21, 2011

Ho-Ho-Hozell

[Note from Scott:  Just wanted to let everyone know that we'll be wrapping up our Beg-a-Thon this week (click here for the somewhat embarrassing details), concluding with a Special Video Special on Thanksgiving.]

By Keith, World O' Crap's War on Christmas Correspondent:
(Almost) Nothing is Sacred by Brent Bozell
In advance of Tinseltown's parade of Christmas insensitivities [sic] -- they've already unloaded the marijuana movie A Very Harold and Kumar 3-D Christmas -- let us stipulate that it's not just seasonal. The manufacturers of pop culture thrive on offending every traditional value.
Brent, nothing “seasonal” about stoner comedies. This genre has perennial charm. If it’s got “legs” you’re guaranteed a 15% return on investment. Maybe more after foreign screens and DVD release.
Start with Pamela Anderson, the ridiculously surgically enhanced former Playboy Playmate, home-movie porn specialist and "Baywatch" star. She's been cast to play -- are you ready? -- the Virgin Mary in a TV "Christmas" special in Canada.
There aren’t many juicy roles for older women actors and Pam has mortgage payments to fulfill. Have you no decency, Brent? Besides, I’m not entirely sure her surgical enhancement is worthy of the adjective “ridiculous.” I’ve always found her work to be reasonably well-crafted. Plus it’s held up awfully good given the mileage.
It's called A Russell Peters Christmas and Peters will play Mary's husband Joseph in the sketch “comedy.” Peters was raised Catholic and attended a Catholic school until eighth grade. It didn't take, to say the least. The show will air as a holiday "centerpiece" in Canada on CTV and the Canadian Comedy Network, which also runs U.S. shows such as The Daily Show and The Colbert Report.
You’re just being snippy because neither Jon nor Steve have featured you as a guest. I can’t remember if Mary and Joseph were actually wed, but legend has it she herself was scheduled for some surgical work in Antioch. The night before she and Joseph took in a show – A Very Oedipus Rex Bacchanalia -- and Joe walked out in disgust, dragging poor Mary along with him.
Publicists are already touting the show with the usual lingo. It's “an irreverent twist on the Christmas special making it unlike anything viewers have seen before,” and will be “tastier and more dangerous than a cup of spiked eggnog.” Pamela Anderson does have reverence for one cause: Her Facebook page profile picture is an anti-fur symbol. Mock Jesus, but love animals.
“Love the sinner, hate their wardrobe,” as Betty Bowers once said after knocking back eggnog spiked with Everclear, Oxycontin and lorazepam. Let’s face it, Brent, you’re stalking poor Pamela on Facebook, aren’t you? You went for the boobs and got PETA instead. Now you’re apoplectic. What else do you have for us?
Another very serious (if not sacred, surely profound) day on the American calendar is Sept. 11. That means 9/11 is just begging for satire, if you're Fox and Seth MacFarlane, at least. Two years after 9/11, college reporter Matt Chayes interviewed MacFarlane and said he "claims he would never do a 9/11 gag." That pledge has been violated repeatedly. Now he's devoted the entire plot of the Nov. 13 episode of "Family Guy" to mocking 9/11.
Stewie, the super-smart baby, invents a time machine. Pal, Brian, the talking dog, and he travel back in time to retrieve an old tennis ball. In the process, current Brian warns past Brian about 9/11, and, as a result, it's avoided. But when they return to the present, they find out that George W. Bush lost the 2004 election because he had no 9/11 with which to scare the public.
Damn, I missed that episode, Brent. Now I’ll have to watch for it in syndication.
This historical twist results in Bush creating a second Confederacy -- naturally -- which starts another Civil War with nuclear strikes that kill 17 million people and turn the U.S. into a post-apocalyptic wasteland, of course. So the duo goes back to fix the past, and after they succeed, the baby declares, "We did it Brian! We made 9/11 happen! High five!"
“Mission Accomplished” would have been a better closer than “High Five” imho.
Speaking of messing up the time machine, Hollywood is really going back in time to smear J. Edgar Hoover. They've never forgiven him for being a staunch anti-communist or for mucking around in the personal lives of their heroes, from the Kennedy's to Martin Luther King. When Time asked actor Leonardo DiCaprio how true the movie was to life he replied, "Historically, it's incredibly accurate."
Did you mean Time Magazine or Time, the physical dimension that co-exists with space in a cosmological continuum?
That's quite a clash with the quote from his cast mate Armie Hammer, who plays Clyde Tolson, the close Hoover aide alleged to be his lover. "What really brings the film to life are the scenes that no one can prove happened."
Too bad Ayn Rand is no longer with us to script-doctor for Clint.
The movie's climactic scene arrives when Hoover tells Tolson he's getting married. Tolson and Hoover wrestle, and Tolson kisses Hoover, only to have Hoover reject him. As Tolson storms out, Hoover begs Tolson not to leave and even says, "I love you." There's also a creepy scene when Hoover's mother dies. Hoover descends into a crying mess as he puts on a dress and a necklace.
The accusation that Hoover cross-dressed came from a convicted perjurer with mob ties; Soviet disinformation agents circulated rumors that Hoover was gay. But Hollywood doesn't care about sources or evidence when it makes "historical" movies. What they cared about was using ersatz history to promote the gay agenda.
As a high-profile Fed in frequent attendance at Roy Cohn’s infamous soirees of yester-year this alone is enough evidence to conclude that J. Edgar was perhaps “A Friend of Dorothy.” There’s more than a touch of lavender to this complex individual. At least Clint didn’t demean Mr. Hoover by making DiCaprio wear a copy that wretched two-piece knit thing. Clyde hated that two-piece knit.
Now that agenda is the closest thing to a unanimously sacred cause in Hollywood. Movie director Brett Ratner was just unceremoniously canned as director of the 2012 Academy Awards broadcast. He crossed the line by saying "Rehearsals are for (gay F-bombs)." That will get you fired. Mocking an FBI director, 9/11 or the Virgin Mary? That is apparently "How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying."
What lessons have we to learn from Mr. Bozell’s poorly-spelled and poorly-punctuated rant? Well, we’ve learned he is stalking Pamela Anderson on Facebook. Watch out, Brent. You’re not the first. I’d stay away from her. She doesn’t like it.

(We’ve also learned that, despite constant lobbying by his publicist, he has been declined an audience with either Jon Stewart or Steve Colbert. Tough nuts, Brent. Get over it.)

Secondly, Mr. Bozell was absent from class the day they introduced basic structures, such as the outline, as an aid in organizing one’s thoughts.

Thirdly, we have learned that Brent is a terrible pop-culture critic. He sucks big time. I’ve done him a tremendous favor by omitting some of the worst paragraphs (it just goes on an on) so I’m awaiting Brent’s holiday (sorry, “Christmas”) card as a token of his appreciation.

Saturday, November 19, 2011

MaryC's Holiday Gift Report, V2.0

The horror. Oh, GOD! The Horror!

The unholy noise cracks upon their ears, and the little girls' heads whip around, their pigtails flying, as they instinctively recognize the danger. But before they can flee the room, the demon latches upon their souls and consumes them, and soon the entire Babysitters Club is cackling with the demented hysteria of those who have gazed upon the indescribable horror of the Elder Gods, and been denied the blessed release that only death can bring.

By Remco!

Friday, November 18, 2011

You Can Thank John Stossel for Your Electronic Tape Worm

I'm not a morning person, and generally unpleasant to be around until lunchtime.  But any day's a good day that starts with a post from s.z, and when you add in Dennis Prager telling the ladies to just lie back and let him, Bill Bennett, Mike Gallagher, Michael Medved and Hugh Hewitt fill their pretty little heads with the industrial run-off from their big pulsing Man Brains, well...that's about as close as I come to greeting the dawn with a smile and a wink across the brim of my coffee cup like the vivified spokesmodel in an old Yuban commercial.

Sheri also mentioned that she took the time out of her day to teach the fundamentals of Objectivism to an 11-month old infant, which takes a rare, Daniel-in-the-Lion's-den kind of courage, because babies are, by and large, not a sympathetic audience for the Randian Facts of Life.  Most of them, in fact, are needy, greedy socialists with a teat-draining attachment to the Nanny State (have you ever seen a pair of baby booties with actual bootstraps?  I rest my case).

And speaking of Self-Made Mustaches Men, let's check in with ex-consumer reporter and wrestler whipping boy, and current Galt's Gulch real estate agent, John Stossel:
"What's wrong with these chains?  These are the chains I forged (via a reputable off-shore subcontractor) in life!  Because I'm a producer!  Sure they chafe a little, but you know what?  Jacob Marley was a wuss..."

FDA Kills Smokers
My intuition makes me grateful that the FDA is there to protect me -- to make sure that every drug is proven both safe and effective -- but "protection" kills people.
Look, John, just be frank and tell her you don't like wearing a condom.  Or even fake a latex allergy if you must, but as pre-coital patter goes, this is a bit of a buzzkill.
Last week, I discussed how the FDA kills by keeping useful medical devices off the market. 
Like the Battle Creek Vibratory Chair, scourge of constipation!  Or  Sanitized Tape Worms!
"Easy To Swallow!"  (Just like the claims in this ad!)  And best of all, "No Baths!", unlike our exclusive line of Schistosomiasis Worms, which require immersion.
Now, we learn the FDA threatens the health of cigarette smokers who want to quit.
You know what I love most about English?  It's a such a vibrant, living language, always evolving and adapting.  Why, when I was a lad, we no longer said things like "when I was a lad," because it sounded archaic, or at least overbearingly precious.  And "learn" meant "to master a skill," or "acquire a fact," rather than "to distort a press release," or "to root around and pull shit out of my ass like an Okie noodlin' for catfish on Hillbilly Handfishin'."
How can I say that?
Perfunctorily?  Unconvincingly? In Percy Kilbride's Downeaster accent from The Egg and I?
Hasn't the FDA proposed that new warnings and gruesome pictures be placed on cigarette packages because the old scares apparently weren't working? ... So the FDA certainly seems to be trying to save smokers' lives. How can I say the FDA threatens smokers?
Because you have the morals of a Ukrainian phishing scammer?
What other conclusion can we draw when we consider that the FDA now talks about banning electronic cigarettes, or e-cigarettes. It sent threatening letters to manufacturers of the product.
The FDA sent letters threatening to kill smokers?  Talk about typical government fraud and abuse!  Instead of wasting our tax dollars threatening to kill people who are already killing themselves, they ought to be actually killing healthy people -- vegans, teetotalers, pilates enthusiasts!
E-cigarettes look like cigarettes, but instead of burning tobacco, they vaporize liquid nicotine when users puff on, or "vape," them. The resulting aerosol mist satisfies "smokers" without their inhaling tars and the most dangerous of tobacco's chemicals into their lungs.
What could be healthier?  I'm sure high-end spas will soon be replacing macrobiotic diets and yoga studios with "vape rooms."
What could be wrong with that? Well, the FDA says e-cigarettes contain trace chemicals that "may" be "toxic."
So do chips of lead paint, but that's no reason kids shouldn't be allowed to dissolve them in soapy water and smoke them in a bubble pipe.
But most everything "may" be toxic.
This column, for instance; and yet Townhall still doesn't carry a Surgeon General's Warning.
 New York Times science columnist John Tierney writes: "The agency has never presented evidence that the trace amounts actually cause any harm, and it has neglected to mention that similar traces of these chemicals have been found in other FDA-approved products, including nicotine patches and gum."
True, although no one has ever suffered from Secondhand Gum, unless they got a blob of it stuck to the bottom of their shoe, or tried to French kiss Ann Coulter while she was working on a Red Man-sized chaw of Nicorette.
 "The agency's methodology and warnings have been lambasted in scientific journals."
Like the Ladies Home Journal, and the Journal of the Whills.
Brad Rodu...
Who certainly sounds like a Star Wars character...
...a professor of medicine at the University of Louisville, concluded in the Harm Reduction Journal that the FDA results "are highly unlikely to have any possible significance to users" because it detected chemicals at "about 1 million times lower concentrations than are conceivably related to human health."

Moreover, Michael Siegel, a professor at the Boston University School of Public Health, told Tierney: "It boggles my mind why there is a bias against e-cigarettes among antismoking groups" such as the American Cancer Society and the American Heart Association.
Anti-smoking groups are opposed to nicotine addiction?  Call me impertinent, Professor, but it seems like your mind is easily boggled, so I suggest you decline any future invitations to actually play Boggle, otherwise it might set up a feedback loop that would ultimately result in a Scanners-like cranial explosion.

But in the interests of peer-reviewed science, let's see exactly what's behind this beef the anti-heart disease, contra-cancer extremists seem to have with vapin'.
[A]uthorities are wary of e-cigarettes and already several states, including New Jersey, New York, and New Hampshire, have made moves to ban them. 
As an ardent Libertarian, Stossel naturally supports States Rights, unless they involve stronger consumer regulations, because that's like castrating Superman.
Affordable and readily available online by adults and minors alike, some argue that this product, which comes in flavors like chocolate or apple, is just another way for teens to get hooked on nicotine.
But it's a potential boon to dieters.  Just imagine: you're in a restaurant, you've just finished a rich meal and you're trying to resist the dessert cart, when someone at a neighboring lights up a Strudel-flavored e-cigarette.  Suddenly, the flourless chocolate cake is forgotten, and all you can think is, "Mmm, your habit smells delicious!  Just like Großmutter used to make -- except, while we did gorge on her pastries after Sunday dinner, we didn't literally inhale them."
The American Cancer Society, Cancer Action Network, American Lung Association and others said in a statement on the product that "absent scientific evidence, these claims…that they are safer than normal cigarettes ... are in blatant in violation of FDA rules." 
And suspicions about these unregulated devices are not unfounded. The FDA survey of e-cigarettes found that one brand, Smoking Everywhere, contained diethylene glycol, a toxic chemical found in anti-freeze.
Now your teen won't overheat in the summer, or freeze up in the winter.  Anyway, back to Stossel:
It boggles my mind, too, because...e-cigarettes not only pose merely a hypothetical risk compared to real "cigarettes containing thousands of chemicals, including dozens of carcinogens and hundreds of toxins"... True, the cigarette substitutes are basically nicotine-delivery devices. But so what?

The American Association of Public Health Physicians wrote that e-cigarettes might "save the lives of 4 million of the 8 million current adult American smokers."

Four million lives!
It's unusual -- even surprising -- to see Stossel so exciting about saving lives.  I would assume this means he also supports a Single Payer national health insurance program that would save many millions more, except I know him.  Still, he probably feels entitled to credit for caring enough about his fellow, if inferior Man to save his miserable, moochery existence by unleashing the power of the Free Market, in the form of an untested, hand-held incinerator that delivers a highly addictive substance, seasoned with automobile coolant.
The FDA seems to believe that it can create a risk-free environment here on earth.
The FDA also seems to believe the American Businessman would put rat shit and brake fluid in baby formula if they could turn a half-cent per unit higher profit.  Bunch of airy-fairy Utopians.
But that is pure balderdash. Life is always a choice between greater and lesser risks -- zero risk is not an option. Striving to abolish risk kills people.
Preventing the Mark Eden Breast Development System from claiming it was "clinically proven to give you the front end of a 1955 Cadillac!" killed more people than Hitler and Mao combined.
"It's time to be honest with the 50 million Americans, and hundreds of millions around the world, who use tobacco," Rodu writes. "It's time to abandon the myth that tobacco is devoid of benefits and to focus on how we can help smokers continue to derive those benefits with a safer delivery system."
I don't know what planet Rodu comes from -- although I assume it's lousy with Sith -- but I think his statement would sound more credible if he was talking through a Darth Vader-style breath mask.

Thursday, November 17, 2011

Q: "Does a Full-Time Homemaker Swap Her Mind for a Mop?"

A: Only if she listens to Dennis Prager's radio show.

Hi, everybody! I am honored to be back as your guest lecturer today during this special pre-holiday week in which we are encouraged (by your guest lecturer) to take a moment to be thankful for our many blessings, and to also help others if we can. And in that spirit, if you give a couple of bucks to help Scott, Mary, and Moondoggie, I have it straight from Satan himself that you will be considered to ghost-write a best-seller (you can have your choice of "Killing George Washington: The Shocking Story of How Pinheaded Liberals Secretly Assassinated the Father of Our Country" or "She Says That I am the One, But the Kid Is Not My Baby, Baby, Baby." Seriously, Mary and Scott are good people (and Moondoogie is a good cat, relatively speaking) who are dealing with major medical expenses, and if you can help, it would be a very good thing to do.

Anyway, I thought I would take a moment to update you on what I've been doing since we last communicated. So here it is: I fed, housed, and cleaned-up after a multitude of needy cats. Of course, while this is important work, in that it saves the lives of animals who were either scheduled for euthanasia, cruelly abandoned by their former owners, or born to poor, unwed cat mothers who were addicted to 'nip, it isn't all that intellectually stimulating. So, I was happy to learn from NOW president Dennis Prager that staying home and caring for unappreciative beasts can be more mentally enriching than working at NASA or ghost-writing an inaccurate historical best-seller for Bill O'Reilly.

Dennis starts out by stating that he regularly writes about "male-female issues" because "I want to help men and women, especially husbands and wives, get along better" by furthering the goals of the Stepford Wives project. He says he also does it get lefty bloggers to pay attention to him for a few laughs, because they are the only people who will. For instance, "just a few weeks ago, [Daily Kos] declared me a misogynist for my column on what I believe to have been four negative legacies of feminism for women. I actually wrote the column on behalf of women, yet I was labeled a misogynist. Why?" Aw, it's always sad to see a right-wing radio personality who just wants to help women be so sadly misunderstood, so if anybody wants to answer Dennis's heart-rending enquiring, be my guest.

But, as Dennis says:
Why that is so is not my subject here. Rather, I seek to refute the idea that full-time homemaking is intellectually vapid and a waste of a college education.
In fact, if more women would major in Laundry Studies or Hamburger Helper-nomics, they would find their college studies exceptionally relevant.
Nor do I wish to romanticize child rearing. As a rule, little children don't contribute much to the intellectual life of a parent
I'm glad that Dennis pointed this out, because I spent yesterday afternoon caring for an 11-month-old baby, and although I tried to engage her in a discussion of the Occupy Wall Street movement, she found her time better served by searching for and eating stay bits of dog kibble. I then suggested that we watch some C-Span to further our understanding of current events, but instead she chewed on the remote and tried to fight the dog for more kibble. As a salon, it was a sad failure -- and now I know why, thanks to Dennis!
The point is that she can find such stimulation without leaving her house. Furthermore, the intellectual input she can find is likely to be greater than most women (or men) find working outside the home. There is a reason that about half the audience of my national radio show is female -- they listen to talk radio for hours a day and broaden their knowledge considerably.
Or, these stay-at-home scholars leave the radio on for hours a day to drown out considerably the sounds of the neighbors' arguing or their own crying babies.

To the left, the notion that talk radio enhances intellectual development is akin to fish needing bicycles.
And to the right, the notion that talk radio enhances intellectual development is akin to prying guns from cold, dead hands. Or throwing babies out with mop water - or whatever is the opposite of what Dennis said the left believes, if only we knew what that was.
But that's because the left's greatest achievement is demonizing the right and because they never actually listen to the best of us.
Get ready for such a list (and if Dennis isn't on it, I'll eat some dog kibble)!
I am syndicated by the Salem Radio Network. My colleagues are Bill Bennett, Mike Gallagher, Michael Medved and Hugh Hewitt. Two of us attended Harvard, one Yale and one Columbia. One of us taught at Harvard, another at the City University of New York. And a third teaches constitutional law at a law school.
Wow, what a chance for us lowly homebound women to learn at the feet of some guys who attended some Ivy League colleges! I feel edified just by reading their names! And so I offer them this tribute: I heard the best minds of my generation on talk radio, spouting madness, starving hysterical stupid, dragging themselves through the Townhall streets at dawn looking for an angry fix, poopy-headed hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the AM dynamo in the machinery of the right.
In addition to reviewing the news and discussing our own views, we all routinely interview authors and experts -- left and right -- in almost every field. The woman who listens to us regularly will know more about economics, politics, current events, world affairs, American history and religion than the great majority of men and women who work full-time outside of the house.
Sure, what these women know will be slanted, warped, and/or flat-out wrong, but they will inarguably know more of it than the great majority of people who are too busy splitting atoms and such to listen to right-wing talk radio.

But still, Dennis has given me hope that I too can join the exquisite world of the mind available to agoraphobics and housewives who possess only AM radios with which to muffle the sounds of that tell-tale heart (and not enough energy to change the channel from Salem Radio Network).

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