August 06, 2004
Milli Vanilli is a Weapon
Recently, a correspondent from our Hanover (NH) office sent us a curious flyer. On it’s front side, this advertisement reads: “Fear is a Weapon of Mass Destruction.”
Hmmm. Clearly, we thought to ourselves, this flyer—which also directs you toward this “website”—amounts to some kind of advertisement for far-Left political causes. Indeed, we can already imagine the feckless nonsense touted on the “website” right now:
President George W. Bush, a man who is both dumber than a post and an evil genius, has parlayed our fear into deadly political goals. Like allowing Israel to exist and attempting to save American lives. You know: That hegemonic, imperialistic sort of stuff.
We, the Pertinacious Youths Who Think That, at the Grand Old Age of 19, We Have Discovered All the Secrets of the World (PYWTTGOAWHDASW), urge you to join our cause, and end “Dubya’s” reign of error—and terror. In addition to excoriating the inadequacies of our current Cowboy-in-Chief, we shall dilate on the horrors of globalization, capitalism, and chain-stores.
Our next meeting will take place this Friday, at 4:30 pm, at the Starbucks on the corner of Main Street. We hope you arenÂ’t too afraid to be there.
To us, that’s the kind of arrant palaver that a flyer reading “Fear is a Weapon of Mass Destruction” invokes.
But then we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” turned over the flyer, and realized that some writing was visible on the other side. It reads: “Faithless. The New Album, No Roots. In Stores July 20th, 2004. Featuring the single ‘Mass Destruction’ As seen on MTV.”
Oh, come on, we thought to ourselves. “Fear is a Weapon of Mass Destruction” is simply some dippy refrain to a ditty played by a band of “rock musicians” (savor that oxymoron, dear reader)! How pathetic!
To make matters worse, the record company responsible for this “band”—and for the advertisement, no doubt—is Arista Records. For those of you who have expunged this memory from your mind, Arista is the passel of geniuses that gave us such virtuosos as “Milli Vanilli.” You, dear reader, remember them: The dread-locked duo that lip-synced their already intolerably wretched songs.
And Arista has the gall to inform us that “Fear is a Weapon of Mass Destruction”? Since about 1984, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” have lived in fear of Arista.
Milli Vanilli is a Weapon of Mass Destruction
Recently, a correspondent from our Hanover (NH) office sent us a curious flyer. On it’s front side, this advertisement reads: “Fear is a Weapon of Mass Destruction.”
Hmmm. Clearly, we thought to ourselves, this flyer—which also directs you toward this “website”—amounts to some kind of advertisement for far-Left political causes. Indeed, we can already imagine the feckless nonsense touted on the “website” right now:
President George W. Bush, a man who is both dumber than a post and an evil genius, has parlayed our fear into deadly political goals. Like allowing Israel to exist and attempting to save American lives. You know: That hegemonic, imperialistic sort of stuff.
We, the Pertinacious Youths Who Think That, at the Grand Old Age of 19, We Have Discovered All the Secrets of the World (PYWTTGOAWHDASW), urge you to join our cause, and end “Dubya’s” reign of error—and terror. In addition to excoriating the inadequacies of our current Cowboy-in-Chief, we shall dilate on the horrors of globalization, capitalism, and chain-stores.
Our next meeting will take place this Friday, at 4:30 pm, at the Starbucks on the corner of Main Street. We hope you arenÂ’t too afraid to be there.
To us, that’s the kind of arrant palaver that a flyer reading “Fear is a Weapon of Mass Destruction” invokes.
But then we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” turned over the flyer, and realized that some writing was visible on the other side. It reads: “Faithless. The New Album, No Roots. In Stores July 20th, 2004. Featuring the single ‘Mass Destruction’ As seen on MTV.”
Oh, come on, we thought to ourselves. “Fear is a Weapon of Mass Destruction” is simply some dippy refrain to a ditty played by a band of “rock musicians” (savor that oxymoron, dear reader)! How pathetic!
To make matters worse, the record company responsible for this “band”—and for the advertisement, no doubt—is Arista Records. For those of you who have expunged this memory from your mind, Arista is the passel of geniuses that gave us such virtuosos as “Milli Vanilli.” You, dear reader, remember them: The dread-locked duo that lip-synced their already intolerably wretched songs.
And Arista has the gall to inform us that “Fear is a Weapon of Mass Destruction”? Since about 1984, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” have lived in fear of Arista.
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August 05, 2004
Fine, DonÂ’t Make Us Your
As even the casual e-stroller must know by now, the fancier “web-pages”—those belonging to, say, The (London) Telegraph and Arts & Letters Daily—all boast an exhortation to e-visitors to make them their “homepage.” The idea, we suppose, is to lure the desultory viewer of the "website" into becoming a chronic viewer.
Are we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” the only people who find these “Make Us Your Homepage” features irksome? We aren’t quite sure what bothers us so much; perhaps we collectively detest the notion that we can’t decide for ourselves what our “homepage” is going to be. We mean, come on: If you can’t trust us with that niggling decision, how are you going to trust us with anything?
Accordingly, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” have decided to spend today’s edition of our humble “weblog” browbeating readers with:
The First Official Passive-Aggressive Exhortation Not To Make Us Your “Homepage”:
Do you, dear reader, delight in the mercilessly mirthful animadversions of the crack young staff? Sure you do. We all do. Even Robert Reich. But that doesn’t mean that you should make us your “homepage,” now does it? Heck no.
Just because we spend (literally) hours of our lives slaving away at dime-store computers in order to provide you with a daily dose of humor doesn’t mean that you should reward us by making us your “homepage.” After all, there’s plenty of pornography and other salubrious “webbery” that deserves your copious free time.
Sure, we have helpfully offered a bevy of links for our readers—everything from the delightfully named Llamabutchers to the American Tarantula Society. But that doesn’t mean you owe us anything.
So, if you want to make us cry like red-headed step-children, don’t bother making us your “homepage.” We’re sure that The New York Times will really appreciate you making it your “homepage” instead: After all, it’s not as if they get lots of readers.
Fine, DonÂ’t Make Us Your Homepage
As even the casual e-stroller must know by now, the fancier “web-pages”—those belonging to, say, The (London) Telegraph and Arts & Letters Daily—all boast an exhortation to e-visitors to make them their “homepage.” The idea, we suppose, is to lure the desultory viewer of the "website" into becoming a chronic viewer.
Are we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” the only people who find these “Make Us Your Homepage” features irksome? We aren’t quite sure what bothers us so much; perhaps we collectively detest the notion that we can’t decide for ourselves what our “homepage” is going to be. We mean, come on: If you can’t trust us with that niggling decision, how are you going to trust us with anything?
Accordingly, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” have decided to spend today’s edition of our humble “weblog” browbeating readers with:
The First Official Passive-Aggressive Exhortation Not To Make Us Your “Homepage”:
Do you, dear reader, delight in the mercilessly mirthful animadversions of the crack young staff? Sure you do. We all do. Even Robert Reich. But that doesn’t mean that you should make us your “homepage,” now does it? Heck no.
Just because we spend (literally) hours of our lives slaving away at dime-store computers in order to provide you with a daily dose of humor doesn’t mean that you should reward us by making us your “homepage.” After all, there’s plenty of pornography and other salubrious “webbery” that deserves your copious free time.
Sure, we have helpfully offered a bevy of links for our readers—everything from the delightfully named Llamabutchers to the American Tarantula Society. But that doesn’t mean you owe us anything.
So, if you want to make us cry like red-headed step-children, don’t bother making us your “homepage.” We’re sure that The New York Times will really appreciate you making it your “homepage” instead: After all, it’s not as if they get lots of readers.
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August 04, 2004
Bush-Bashing with the Best of
Recently, a junior editor at “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly”—let’s just call him “Chip”—strolled into his neighborhood bookstore. Although he had been at the shop only a fortnight before, he suddenly noticed something peculiar: There appears to be a bumper-crop of I-Hate-George-Bush tomes on the market these days.
To be sure, the current President of these here United States of America is not the only target of recently released screeds. If one detests, say, Jimmy Carter or, say, Bill Clinton, there are plenty of polemics from which to choose. (If you utterly despise President Van Buren, however, you just may be out of luck.)
But even those who only casually peruse their local bookshop will note that there is a kind of Bush-bashing cottage industry. The stores are literally littered with them.
And this led us to wonder: How does an author of yet another Bush-bashing tome market his book? How can one grab the readerÂ’s attention in an over-saturated market?
Naturally, if one is, say, Hillary Clinton, it isn’t too difficult to garner some attention for your Bush-bashing oeuvre. And this is the case for minor celebrities, too—like Joe Conason. But what if you have just polished off a monograph that dilates on the many malapropisms of President Bush and you have very little clout in the publishing business? How are you going to compel potential customers to drop the other squillion books that expatiate on the evils of “W,” and purchase your book instead?
Good questions, those. And we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” think we have an answer: It’s the title, stupid. Indeed, a clever title for your orgy of Bush-bashing should land you a few readers. Unfortunately, pretty much every catchy title has been explored by the 5,248 authors who penned their scabrous attacks on President Bush before you.
As a result, you, the author of yet another dilapidated I-Hate-Bush screed, are left with only one option: A ridiculously overwrought title. That ought to draw ‘em in. After all, a tepid title like “Boy, George Bush Really Has Me Steamed” is never going to do the trick. In order to help our prospective polemicists, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” recommend the following (free of charge, no less):
“The Hatemonger’s Quarterly” Official List of Overwrought Titles for Bush-Bashing Books:
1. “Worse than Hitler?: A Chronicle of Bush’s Evil”
2. “Worse than Hitler: A Chronicle of Bush’s Evil”
3. “Killing Babies: A Day in the Life of Our Current President”
4. “George Bush: He Has Become Death, Destroyer of Worlds”
5. “George Bush is the Most Odious Dictator of All Times, Even Though Other Odious Dictators Would Never Allow Me to Publish This Book If it Were about Them”
6. “Bush the Jew-Lover: A Moderate Muslim Speaks Out”
7. “Somehow Bush is Worse than Bin Laden, Though I’m Not Sure How This Can Be True”
8. “Bring Peace Unto the World: Kill Bush”
Well, these ought to be useful to those few irate Bush-haters who are literate. If only President Bush were fat—like, say, Michael Moore; then we could have a real field day with him.
Bush-Bashing with the Best of 'Em
Recently, a junior editor at “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly”—let’s just call him “Chip”—strolled into his neighborhood bookstore. Although he had been at the shop only a fortnight before, he suddenly noticed something peculiar: There appears to be a bumper-crop of I-Hate-George-Bush tomes on the market these days.
To be sure, the current President of these here United States of America is not the only target of recently released screeds. If one detests, say, Jimmy Carter or, say, Bill Clinton, there are plenty of polemics from which to choose. (If you utterly despise President Van Buren, however, you just may be out of luck.)
But even those who only casually peruse their local bookshop will note that there is a kind of Bush-bashing cottage industry. The stores are literally littered with them.
And this led us to wonder: How does an author of yet another Bush-bashing tome market his book? How can one grab the readerÂ’s attention in an over-saturated market?
Naturally, if one is, say, Hillary Clinton, it isn’t too difficult to garner some attention for your Bush-bashing oeuvre. And this is the case for minor celebrities, too—like Joe Conason. But what if you have just polished off a monograph that dilates on the many malapropisms of President Bush and you have very little clout in the publishing business? How are you going to compel potential customers to drop the other squillion books that expatiate on the evils of “W,” and purchase your book instead?
Good questions, those. And we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” think we have an answer: It’s the title, stupid. Indeed, a clever title for your orgy of Bush-bashing should land you a few readers. Unfortunately, pretty much every catchy title has been explored by the 5,248 authors who penned their scabrous attacks on President Bush before you.
As a result, you, the author of yet another dilapidated I-Hate-Bush screed, are left with only one option: A ridiculously overwrought title. That ought to draw ‘em in. After all, a tepid title like “Boy, George Bush Really Has Me Steamed” is never going to do the trick. In order to help our prospective polemicists, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” recommend the following (free of charge, no less):
“The Hatemonger’s Quarterly” Official List of Overwrought Titles for Bush-Bashing Books:
1. “Worse than Hitler?: A Chronicle of Bush’s Evil”
2. “Worse than Hitler: A Chronicle of Bush’s Evil”
3. “Killing Babies: A Day in the Life of Our Current President”
4. “George Bush: He Has Become Death, Destroyer of Worlds”
5. “George Bush is the Most Odious Dictator of All Times, Even Though Other Odious Dictators Would Never Allow Me to Publish This Book If it Were about Them”
6. “Bush the Jew-Lover: A Moderate Muslim Speaks Out”
7. “Somehow Bush is Worse than Bin Laden, Though I’m Not Sure How This Can Be True”
8. “Bring Peace Unto the World: Kill Bush”
Well, these ought to be useful to those few irate Bush-haters who are literate. If only President Bush were fat—like, say, Michael Moore; then we could have a real field day with him.
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August 03, 2004
The Crack Young Staff Says:
Recently, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” received a package from a correspondent from our Boston (MA) office. We had been waiting for some time for such a parcel, as the Democratic National Convention has recently taken place in fair Boston. Included in this package, along with some “Kerry & Edwards” and “Appease Terrorism” bumper stickers, was a curious advertisement from the July 29 number of The Boston Globe.
This full-page ad sports a small picture of a middle-aged fellow and the headline “Mayor Thomas M. Menino Says: ‘Thank You, Boston.’” For those of you uninformed about the vicissitudes of Bostonian politics—and utterly oblivious to the obvious—we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” can let you know that Thomas Menino (who is oft given the sobriquet “Mumbles”) is the mayor of Beantown.
The advertisement makes clear that the right honorable Mayor endeavors to thank Bostonians for making the Democratic Convention such a tremendous success. (How he knew it was a tremendous success before it even ended is another matter. We assume heÂ’s clairvoyant.)
But “Mumbles” Menino does not simply offer thanks to the residents of Boston; he is armed with a series of “discounts and free events.” These presents, thinks Mayor “Mumbles,” will help the locals enjoy “a great weekend.”
So, what kind of goodies is the Mayor tossing to the masses? Well, Bostonians can enjoy $5 off admission on a Boston Duck Tour on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. This struck us as an odd gift: Why would the locals want to take a tour of the city they already inhabit? We don’t mean to come across as a bunch of conspiracy-mongers, but we have the sneaking suspicion that Mayor Menino’s “gifts” have a lot more to do with business than, well, gifts.
As peculiar as this may seem, dear reader, it pales in comparison to another generous offering the right honorable Mayor delivered to the Beantown masses. For Sunday, August 1, the Mayor bestowed free on-street parking to all the residents of the city!
Free parking on Sunday? Wow. This Menino fellow, you are probably thinking to yourself, is surely the most prodigal Mayor in American history.
But before you wax hagiographic on the goodness of Mayor Thomas Menino, dear reader, we must offer one inconvenient fact: On-street parking is always free on Sundays. The good Mayor has given a gift that we have already received.
We know what you are thinking, dear reader: “Mumbles” Menino, Prince of Parsimony that he is, needs a good whipping. Or, failing that, a fairly brisk finger-wagging. That ought to show him.
But may we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” suggest that there’s a better way to get back at Mr. Frugality? Why not outshine his Indian Giving by presenting the citizens of Boston with an even more impressive non-gift? It is this spirit that we announce:
“The Hatemonger’s Quarterly” September On-Street Parking Give-Away:
We, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” would like to thank the levelheaded inhabitants of Boston for making it through the Democratic National Convention without induce vomiting…often. As a token of our esteem, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” have a present for you all: On each Sunday in September, 2004, on-street parking will be entirely free of charge! It’s all part of our “Hatemonger’s Quarterly” Offering You the Things You Already Had Promotion. So, citizens of Boston, enjoy four days of free parking on us. Tell ‘em the crack young staff sent you.
The Crack Young Staff Says: “Thank You, Mayor Menino”
Recently, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” received a package from a correspondent from our Boston (MA) office. We had been waiting for some time for such a parcel, as the Democratic National Convention has recently taken place in fair Boston. Included in this package, along with some “Kerry & Edwards” and “Appease Terrorism” bumper stickers, was a curious advertisement from the July 29 number of The Boston Globe.
This full-page ad sports a small picture of a middle-aged fellow and the headline “Mayor Thomas M. Menino Says: ‘Thank You, Boston.’” For those of you uninformed about the vicissitudes of Bostonian politics—and utterly oblivious to the obvious—we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” can let you know that Thomas Menino (who is oft given the sobriquet “Mumbles”) is the mayor of Beantown.
The advertisement makes clear that the right honorable Mayor endeavors to thank Bostonians for making the Democratic Convention such a tremendous success. (How he knew it was a tremendous success before it even ended is another matter. We assume heÂ’s clairvoyant.)
But “Mumbles” Menino does not simply offer thanks to the residents of Boston; he is armed with a series of “discounts and free events.” These presents, thinks Mayor “Mumbles,” will help the locals enjoy “a great weekend.”
So, what kind of goodies is the Mayor tossing to the masses? Well, Bostonians can enjoy $5 off admission on a Boston Duck Tour on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. This struck us as an odd gift: Why would the locals want to take a tour of the city they already inhabit? We don’t mean to come across as a bunch of conspiracy-mongers, but we have the sneaking suspicion that Mayor Menino’s “gifts” have a lot more to do with business than, well, gifts.
As peculiar as this may seem, dear reader, it pales in comparison to another generous offering the right honorable Mayor delivered to the Beantown masses. For Sunday, August 1, the Mayor bestowed free on-street parking to all the residents of the city!
Free parking on Sunday? Wow. This Menino fellow, you are probably thinking to yourself, is surely the most prodigal Mayor in American history.
But before you wax hagiographic on the goodness of Mayor Thomas Menino, dear reader, we must offer one inconvenient fact: On-street parking is always free on Sundays. The good Mayor has given a gift that we have already received.
We know what you are thinking, dear reader: “Mumbles” Menino, Prince of Parsimony that he is, needs a good whipping. Or, failing that, a fairly brisk finger-wagging. That ought to show him.
But may we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” suggest that there’s a better way to get back at Mr. Frugality? Why not outshine his Indian Giving by presenting the citizens of Boston with an even more impressive non-gift? It is this spirit that we announce:
“The Hatemonger’s Quarterly” September On-Street Parking Give-Away:
We, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” would like to thank the levelheaded inhabitants of Boston for making it through the Democratic National Convention without induce vomiting…often. As a token of our esteem, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” have a present for you all: On each Sunday in September, 2004, on-street parking will be entirely free of charge! It’s all part of our “Hatemonger’s Quarterly” Offering You the Things You Already Had Promotion. So, citizens of Boston, enjoy four days of free parking on us. Tell ‘em the crack young staff sent you.
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August 02, 2004
The Complete IdiotÂ’s Guide to
When perusing the local bookstore, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” often find many tomes that get our dander up. It’s as if someone is attempting to make one of life’s true pleasures—shopping for books—a mercilessly horrid experience.
First, the neighborhood Barnes & Noble seems to have an affinity for those over-lauded Beatniks, as if William Burroughs and Allen Ginsberg would have really dug the antiseptic ambience of this un-thinking manÂ’s Borders. We all know that nothing screams antinomian counterculture quite like a $45 cup of Starbucks at the oleÂ’ B & N.
And if this pseudo-radicalism weren’t enough to rankle us, the magazine section of this Barnes & Noble sure is. Looking for The New Criterion? You’re out of luck. Modern Painters? Not a chance. The (London) Spectator? Oh, come on: Of course not. But, if you have a hankering for such highbrow journals as Maxim, Details, and Black Hair Care, you’re in luck: B & N carries all three of these. Gee, those magazines would really hit the spot—provided we hate reading.
But the literate person need not head to the magazine rack to feel alienated from his fellow man. A perusal of the “Best Sellers” section serves this function too. Are we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” the only people in the United States who don’t own copies of “The Da Vinci Code?” We aren’t even sure what this code is; perhaps it’s a way of figuring out Victoria’s Secret?
But there is one series of books that really irritates us. This, dear reader, is the “Complete Idiot’s Guide” series, which offers potential readers helpful tips on a wide variety of subjects, from computers to dating. (Well, for some of us, those two subjects aren’t all that different.)
What, you may be asking yourself, bothers you so much about these “Idiot’s Guide” books? Why do these tomes offend, whereas “Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance” doesn’t irritate at all?
Frankly, dear reader, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” have never even ventured to read one of these dubious books. We simply can’t bring ourselves to it. And, to misquote one of Bill Shakespeare’s characters, here’s the rub. The title of the series—“The Complete Idiot’s Guide”—is so patently offensive that we can’t fathom why anyone would purchase a book with such a title.
To be sure, plenty of people--and we mean plenty--are inveterate morons. But you have to be a complete chucklehead not to realize that clutching a monograph that reads “The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Autism” makes you look rather foolish indeed.
It seems, in fact, as if purchasing such books serves as a kind of literary masochism: You are announcing to the general public that, not only do you need to polish up your French, you are a complete dunce.
Still, it appears as if there’s quite a market for “The Complete Idiot’s Guide” series. And this led us to wonder: Could a series with an even more offensive title, which is even more patronizing, somehow sell like hotcakes? We, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” are certainly willing to team up with some swashbuckling venture capitalist and give it a try. How do the following titles grab you?
1. “The Pertinacious Tyro’s Guide to the Israeli-Palestinian Conflict”
2. “Spanish for the Drooling Moron”
3. “The Dim Bulb’s Guide to Cooking”
4. “Look, Stupid, Buy This Book on Politics”
5. “The Knuckle-Dragging Buffoon’s Guide to Rocket Science”
6. “Stupid White Men”
Oh, wait a minute. Michael Moore already penned a book with the same title as number six. And, boy, youÂ’d have to be a real idiot to buy that one, cracker.
The Complete Idiot’s Guide to “Weblogs”
When perusing the local bookstore, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” often find many tomes that get our dander up. It’s as if someone is attempting to make one of life’s true pleasures—shopping for books—a mercilessly horrid experience.
First, the neighborhood Barnes & Noble seems to have an affinity for those over-lauded Beatniks, as if William Burroughs and Allen Ginsberg would have really dug the antiseptic ambience of this un-thinking manÂ’s Borders. We all know that nothing screams antinomian counterculture quite like a $45 cup of Starbucks at the oleÂ’ B & N.
And if this pseudo-radicalism weren’t enough to rankle us, the magazine section of this Barnes & Noble sure is. Looking for The New Criterion? You’re out of luck. Modern Painters? Not a chance. The (London) Spectator? Oh, come on: Of course not. But, if you have a hankering for such highbrow journals as Maxim, Details, and Black Hair Care, you’re in luck: B & N carries all three of these. Gee, those magazines would really hit the spot—provided we hate reading.
But the literate person need not head to the magazine rack to feel alienated from his fellow man. A perusal of the “Best Sellers” section serves this function too. Are we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” the only people in the United States who don’t own copies of “The Da Vinci Code?” We aren’t even sure what this code is; perhaps it’s a way of figuring out Victoria’s Secret?
But there is one series of books that really irritates us. This, dear reader, is the “Complete Idiot’s Guide” series, which offers potential readers helpful tips on a wide variety of subjects, from computers to dating. (Well, for some of us, those two subjects aren’t all that different.)
What, you may be asking yourself, bothers you so much about these “Idiot’s Guide” books? Why do these tomes offend, whereas “Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance” doesn’t irritate at all?
Frankly, dear reader, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” have never even ventured to read one of these dubious books. We simply can’t bring ourselves to it. And, to misquote one of Bill Shakespeare’s characters, here’s the rub. The title of the series—“The Complete Idiot’s Guide”—is so patently offensive that we can’t fathom why anyone would purchase a book with such a title.
To be sure, plenty of people--and we mean plenty--are inveterate morons. But you have to be a complete chucklehead not to realize that clutching a monograph that reads “The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Autism” makes you look rather foolish indeed.
It seems, in fact, as if purchasing such books serves as a kind of literary masochism: You are announcing to the general public that, not only do you need to polish up your French, you are a complete dunce.
Still, it appears as if there’s quite a market for “The Complete Idiot’s Guide” series. And this led us to wonder: Could a series with an even more offensive title, which is even more patronizing, somehow sell like hotcakes? We, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” are certainly willing to team up with some swashbuckling venture capitalist and give it a try. How do the following titles grab you?
1. “The Pertinacious Tyro’s Guide to the Israeli-Palestinian Conflict”
2. “Spanish for the Drooling Moron”
3. “The Dim Bulb’s Guide to Cooking”
4. “Look, Stupid, Buy This Book on Politics”
5. “The Knuckle-Dragging Buffoon’s Guide to Rocket Science”
6. “Stupid White Men”
Oh, wait a minute. Michael Moore already penned a book with the same title as number six. And, boy, youÂ’d have to be a real idiot to buy that one, cracker.
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