Well, dear reader, the 2006 American midterm elections are officially over. Boy, that was one heck of a ride: If you waded through all the typical hand-wringing articles about how vicious the campaigns were, you’d likely see all the typical hand-wringing articles about “how much was at stake.”

The latter brand of column strikes us as even more obtuse than the usual journalistic blather: Have you ever read an article in the mainstream media that claimed that there was “very little at stake” in any national election? Not bloody likely, if you ask us.

Just about now, the “weblogosphere” is all abuzz with post-election post mortems, victory cries, and mournful lamentations. The “webloggers” who usually compose mindless propaganda in favor of their sides have temporarily jettisoned that task in favor of composing mindless election recaps that are unflinchingly favorable to their beloved ideologies.

Whilst left-wingers who arenÂ’t related to Ned Lamont break open the chardonnay, our right-wing pals either pour forth their frustration or offer some ingenious spin that makes it seem as if losing both Houses of Congress is actually just peachy. Frankly, dear reader, you can color us unimpressed.

As far as we’re concerned, there’s only one thing to savor about election night—whether your candidate of choice becomes the next congressman from Wyoming’s 4th district or not. And it actually hasn’t got anything to do with the candidates.

No, election night offers only one delight: For those watching the returns on television, this evening presents the viewer with gaggles of televised mishaps. ItÂ’s a veritable cornucopia of bloopers. On this lovely night, ostentatious, self-impressed anchormen and anchor-ladies ineluctably make complete fools of themselves. And, gosh, we just canÂ’t get enough.

One moment Wolf Blitzer is nervously bumping into Jeff Greenwald whilst attempting to relay the latest exit poll numbers from Missouri. The next moment Britt Hume unknowingly stares into the wrong camera as Mort Kondrake butchers yet another attempt at articulateness. And then—of course—Anderson Cooper is given ample time to prove what a no-nothing boob he is.

Ah, yes: These blown-dry nitwits donÂ’t make it look so easy without the teleprompter, do they? And, next to Ned Lamont getting his posterior handed to him, itÂ’s one of the few magical elements of election night.

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Whilst our far-left pals officially lament Lamont, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” have a question on our minds: Why, exactly, do people fear the rabid lefty nutters who have pretensions to colossal electoral powers? As far as we can determine, the Daily Cossacks, Democratic Undergrounders, and the Huff Po crowd aren’t exactly a fearsome political juggernaut.

We mean, come on: Howard Dean and Ned Lamont—remember those guys? Sure, the vitriolic ravings of Dr. Dean may be a bit of a hard sell nationwide, but if you can’t get Ned Lamont elected in true-blue Connecticut, your movement surely lacks some momentum. Or, perhaps we should say, Joe-mentum.

Frankly, dear reader, we’ve long been nonplussed by constant media obsession with the “Netroots” folk. It’s kind of like all those “Tonight Show” appearances Johnny Carson gave to Buddy Hackett. Why did good ole’ Johnny think that this washed-up comedian so often deserved the spotlight? If you ask us, it's no wonder that moderate Democrats (and not paleo-liberals) fared well last night.

The reasons for the limited appeal of our Internet-savvy lefties aren’t hard to come by. All one must do is take a gander at the “comments” sections of their “weblogs” and you’ll be awash in political rhetoric unlikely to sway voters outside of San Francisco and the faculty lounge.

You neednÂ’t take our word for it. WeÂ’ll be delighted to offer an example or two.

As you undoubtedly know, Saddam Hussein has been convicted to death by hanging for crimes against humanity. Eschewing potshots at George Allen for a brief moment, the Huffington Post decided to broadcast this news to its readership.

For your perusal, dear reader, here are a few choice selections from Huff Po reader “comments” on the Saddam verdict (all of the errors are theirs):

Had this been an honest, fair, legal trial by other than a puppet court of a puppet government established by the Bush administration, Saddam may still have been found guilty, but sentenced with him would have been Bush, Cheney, Rumsfeld, Perle, Wolfowitz, Feith, Rice et.al., had the trial truly been concerned with atrocities committed against Iraqis.

The number of innocents massacred by the neo-con zionist regime directing the Bush administration dwarfs those attributed to Saddam, and since the USA is still, though tenuously, a democracy, all US citizens bear an ultimate responsibility for these atrocities.

By: FUBush on November 05, 2006 at 07:41am

Boy, that sentiment has limited appeal outside of the lunatic asylum and anti-Semitic rally. HereÂ’s another:

Saddam is a far better man than George W. Bush ever thought about being.

By: shrike on November 05, 2006 at 07:58am

Well, we suppose that was more succinct, albeit equally unhinged. And these two exempla of zany paleo-leftism could easily be multiplied a thousand-fold. Is it any wonder that these folks have had a bit of difficulty getting their candidates in office?

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Obsessive viewers of the idiot box undoubtedly recognize that some 24-hour cable news networks have faired better than others in recent years. Well, if by “some” you mean Fox News. And by “others” you mean all the others.

Yes, a mere gander at cable ratings attests that Roger Ailes and Co. have outshone the cable news competition. In comparison with “The O’Reilly Factor,” the programs on, say, MSNBC might as well be broadcast on C-SPAN. Hey, at least C-SPAN is intermittently entertaining.

ThatÂ’s more than you can say for the flagrantly un-viewable Jim Cramer. That screeching, hunched-over bag of garbage.

But surely the rise of Fox News has troubled no one so much as the folks at CNN, the erstwhile leader in cable news hackery. If this sorry excuse for a television network were half as entertaining as whilom owner Ted Turner, perhaps a few Americans would watch it. (Of course this might mean that CNN, like Ted Turner, would be an anti-Semitic lunatic, but themÂ’s the breaks.)

We mention this, dear reader, because one of the senior editors here at “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly”—let’s just call him “Chip”—took in a rather surprising moment of television on CNN the other day, and it quite troubled him. No, Wolf Blitzer’s pants didn’t fall down to the accompaniment of a slide whistle, or anything like that. But it was shocking nonetheless.

In one particular on-air segment on CNN, Wolf Blitzer, chock-a-block with pseudo-gravitas as usual, turned things over to someone named Jack Cafferty. Until then, dear reader, we thought that Jack Cafferty was the leader of the Beaver Brown Band. (You remember them: The unthinking manÂ’s John Cougar.) Yet it turns out that heÂ’s an unpleasant color-commentator-like anchorman at CNN.

The dour Mr. Cafferty announced CNN’s poll question of the day (or some such): Name the most annoying talking head on television. To be honest, dear reader, at this moment “Chip’s” immediate answer was Jack Cafferty. But, of course, he hadn’t seen Susan Estrich recently.

Anyway, in lieu of entertainment, Mr. Cafferty offered his own choice: Rush Limbaugh, whom he deemed—and we quote—a “fat drug-addict.” Yes, you read that right: On daytime television, on a cable news program, a CNN anchor referred to Mr. Limbaugh as a “fat drug-addict.”

It was a bit jarring, and you could tell that Mr. Blitzer was uncomfortable with the locution, though he tried to play it off. Quite frankly, it was all rather contemptible.

Now, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” certainly recognize that Rush Limbaugh doesn’t need our defense. He’s got legions of fans, oodles of cash, and lots of pain medication. Further, we’re sure that Mr. Limbaugh has tossed around his fair share of nasty epithets in the past. What goes around comes around, we suppose.

But, gee: Isn’t anything beneath the dignity of CNN? Sure, tasteless name-calling may be appropriate for, say, a failed humor “weblog” with few readers, but is it really kosher for the likes of CNN? Is the whole staff of this network drinking from Ted Turner’s toilet?

A perusal of the latest number of The New Republic helped us conclude what Mr. Cafferty and his fellow dolts at CNN were up to. As Peter Beinart makes clear in his column “Going Native,” Lou Dobbs—the Pigs-in-Space-looking anchorman—is the only CNN personality who’s doing well in the ratings department.

Since Mr. Dobbs has garnered comparatively large audiences with his controversial immigration demagoguery, the geniuses at CNN have tried to infuse this into their other failed programs. Hence Mr. CaffertyÂ’s outburst.

Boy, nothing seems lamer than a nasty attack offered entirely for the benefit of ratings. Just ask Ann Coulter.

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Ever need more clothing that fits a four-year-old? Yeah, we donÂ’t either. And yet, for countless members of the crack young staff, the dryer portion of their home washer-dryers apparently doesnÂ’t realize this.

As a result, their irksome dryers do their very best to convert normal, adult clothes into little Barbie-sized items. Thanks to their dryers, your beloved sweater can instantly fit a doll. If you have, say, a T-shirt with the perfect fit, you’d better keep it away from their dryers—they’ll make sure that Gary Coleman is the only one who can wear it comfortably.

It’s sad, actually. And not easily remedied: Our dryers have only two settings—still sopping wet and Shrinky-Dink. Our clothes are either fit for a flounder or a Smurf; take your pick.

As we said, this is not some sort of statistical aberration. Informal polling around the office water cooler suggests that nearly 47 percent of the crack young staffÂ’s dryers are hotter than the Sahara. TheyÂ’re so hot that we have reason to believe that Buster Poindexter lives inside them. In a few of them, in fact, you can dry pottery.

How in the good LordÂ’s name does this happen? In our experience, though lots of folks have overzealously hot dryers, seldom do you meet people with other appliances that are equally irritating. How many people do you know with refrigerators that instantly freeze all of their contents? Not many, eh?

And yet the plague of the infernally blazing dryer is disarmingly common. CanÂ’t someone do something about this?

The Third-World may have the blights of AIDS, incessant poverty, and hopelessly corrupt governance, but we in the First World fare little better: We have blazing dryers. Think poorly of us for making this comparison, but weÂ’re sticking by it.

We mean, come on: WhatÂ’s more irksome than putting on a favorite shirt and realizing that it, thanks to your dryer, makes you feel as if you stole it from the 12-year-old across the street? Or from Britney Spears? Not, weÂ’d say, too much.

If you ask us, the fellow who designed the modern clothes dryer was an undercover agent for Good Will. After all, one short spin in the dryer, and all our textiles will be headed to the Salvation Army.

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Okay, here’s another thing that bothers us about the Internet no end. As strollers around Al Gore’s World-Wide Web undoubtedly know, many “weblogs” allow their readers the opportunity to compose “comments” in response to particular “posts.” This, as can be easily attested, offers the opportunity for countless dribbling morons to present functionally and culturally illiterate musings on all and sundry.

It’s for this reason, dear reader, that we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” don’t accept “comments” on this humble “website.” Although our audience is surely more learned than that of the average “weblog,” we still think a few rotten eggs would sully it for all of us.

But horrid reader “comments”—as noxious as they are—aren’t the focus of today’s demolition. Rather, we’re taking aim at those irksome tag lines that follow so many “comments.” We think you know what we’re talking about: After proffering a grammatically-challenged sentiment about George Allen’s foolishness, a given “commenter” will end his bit with some stupid quote from a famous person.

You know, like:

“Tyranny, like hell, is not easily conquered; yet we have this consolation with us, that the harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph.” -Thomas Paine

Or:

“We must become the change we want to see." –Gandhi

Man, do these arch little quotations irritate us. Although the “commenter” wants to offer the impression that he’s an expert on, say, Thomas Paine or, say, Gandhi, it should be painfully obvious that he’s merely culled the quotation from some handy list of inspiring sayings. The dolt.

For this reason, one often sees liberal “commenters” unknowingly employing quotes from Victorian imperialists, or radical feminists picking sayings from anti-suffragettes. Or, for that matter, lefties choosing Thomas Paine, whose politics in many ways don’t fit those of the contemporary liberal. Nothing quite makes a left-winger look like a nitwit like using a Harold Macmillan quote as a tag line.

Naturally, then, the question presents itself: How to rid the e-world of these odious quotations? We, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” don’t know for sure, but we think we have an idea that could well help.

Actually, itÂ’s pretty simple: You have to offer even more idiotic tag lines in an attempt to demonstrate how foolish this whole business is. And, if you ask us, there are a few easy ways to do this, which weÂ’ll prove through recourse to one text: Albert CamusÂ’ novel The Fall.

Camus, as one of the 20th centuryÂ’s leading intellectuals and a man of conscience, is a perfect choice for the ostentatious tag-line enthusiast. The Fall is also a great text, since itÂ’s a work of fiction, and thus the attribution of its lines to its author is already highly dubious. So perhaps a few ill-chosen quotes from this work will make these e-quotations seem all the more ridiculous. We suggest the following:

“I was even seen in a hotel dedicated to what is called sin, living simultaneously with a mature prostitute and an unmarried girl of the best society” – Albert Camus

That ought to confuse a few folks. Or how about this:

“You are probably right” – Albert Camus

We can already imagine the first thoughts of those happening upon this tag line: “Huh?”

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Okay, dear reader: One more note on the recent John Kerry Thinks the Troops Are Stupid Brouhaha, and then we’ll blithely consign this rather insignificant scandal to the trash heap. Every right-leaning “weblog” this side of the Baltic Sea is nattering on about this topic, and, quite frankly, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” prefer our “posts” to be far less timely. (At some point we’ll get around to bashing Alexander Haig. Man, that guy really gets under our skin.)

Anyway, weÂ’re continuing our discussion of John KerryÂ’s gaffe precisely because weÂ’ve just taken a gander at his curious attempt at contrition via press release. After resolutely refusing to apologize one minute, the junior Senator from Massachusetts decided to apologize the next. Way to demonstrate that youÂ’re not a flip-flopper, Mr. Kerry.

Well, to be fair, Senator Kerry’s apology isn’t much of an apology. In fact, as the press release makes crystal clear, Mr. Kerry doesn’t feel all that apologetic. For the benefit of the one person who hasn’t been keeping up with this story, here’s what Andrew Sullivan would deem the “money quote”:

I sincerely regret that my words were misinterpreted to wrongly imply anything negative about those in uniform, and I personally apologize to any service member, family member, or American who was offended.

Huh. That’s odd, isn’t it? The bit on the end was quite good, we thought. But he’s got the start all wrong: “I sincerely regret that my words were misinterpreted to wrongly imply anything negative about those in uniform.”

Now, never mind the split infinitive. We imagine thatÂ’s just an example of the SenatorÂ’s superior education and intellect on display. (President Bush, eat your heart out.)

Instead, home in on the heart of this statement: IÂ’m sorry that other people misinterpreted me. Why the heck would one be sorry about that? Angry, perhaps; dismayed, sure; but sorry? It makes no sense.

Naturally, this is a non-apology apology. You’ve probably witnessed such a thing before—when you were around age 12 in the schoolyard. Never thought you’d see the day a distinguished political figure would offer an example of it, did you?

Well, don’t be so naïve. Frankly, all this ire directed at Mr. Kerry has actually made us pine to defend him. It’s sad, but it’s true.

WeÂ’re particularly tired of lefty complaints about Senator Kerry, which attempt to turn him into the Bill Buckner of the Democratic Party. Puh-lease: You voted for him, you dolts. DonÂ’t you deserve a little bit of the blame?

In fact, as much as we would love to join the anti-Kerry orgy, we simply must say it: All heÂ’s offered us is an example of the typical politicianÂ’s trick: Never apologizing.

LetÂ’s face facts, people. Politicians almost never offer an earnest display of contrition. They enjoy apologizing as much as most of us fancy cleaning the toilet with our tongue. As much as people like to pretend that apologies are good for politiciansÂ’ careers, theyÂ’re clearly not, or everyone would be constantly admitting to their shortcomings.

Yes, Mr. KerryÂ’s non-apology is asinine. As was his reaction to this stupid ordeal in the first place. But we donÂ’t think itÂ’s much more than a glaringly tone-deaf version of politics as usual in this country.

So leave John Kerry alone, will you? If people continue to pile on him, we may feel so sorry for him that we'll be compelled to vote for the guy.

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Naturally, dear reader, strollers around Al Gore’s Internet are dying to know what we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” think about the latest political brouhaha—John Kerry’s recent call for American students to educate themselves, lest they wind up soldiers in Iraq. As one might imagine, such a sentiment has quickly catapulted the junior Senator from Massachusetts into the media limelight.

Now, we don’t mean to alienate our conservative friends, but we’re entirely willing to believe that John Kerry didn’t mean what he said. That is to say, he made a—horrible and entertaining—gaffe. It’s highly unlikely that Senator Kerry, a man who served in Vietnam himself, would ridicule the intellectual capabilities of American servicemen.

But, that said, we find it simply enraging that Senator Kerry resolutely refused to apologize for his wretched mistake. Instead, he launched a nonsensical partisan attack on those—reasonably—demanding contrition. This is not the action of a gentleman; rather, it positively stinks of “desperate loon.”

We mean, come on: His potshots at the Bush administration in the aftermath of his remarks make absolutely no sense. On the one hand, Kerry admits that he bungled a joke, which was aimed at excoriating President Bush, not the American military. (Why he would take aim at the education of the president, who attended the same schools as Kerry and had roughly the same grades, is another matter, but we’ll let that pass.) On the other hand, however, he blasts his critics for “distorting” his words.

But, as Senator Kerry’s first contention makes clear, his attackers aren’t “distorting” his words. They’re merely taking issue with his actual delivered statement, which he claims not to have meant. So, Mr. Kerry appears to be complaining that the Bush administration criticized his exact words. How dare they take his statements at face value!

This simply has to be the most asinine moment in recent American political history. All Senator Kerry has to do is apologize. But, seemingly stirred up by the MoveOn.org types on the “weblogosphere,” he has chosen to offer a bizarre retort instead.

ItÂ’s rather funny, of course. For years now, our friends on the political Left have yammered on about the festival of malapropisms that George W. Bush offers in his speeches. WeÂ’ve endured countless hoots and howls from our liberal friends at the rhetorical blunders of the Commander-in-Chief.

Yet now, the supposedly cosmopolitan John Kerry has offered perhaps the most unfortunate gaffe a politician can utter, and our buddies on the Left are positively leaping all over themselves to rush to Senator KerryÂ’s defense. Our current president may not be a genius at subject-verb agreement, but has he ever delivered a blunder this juicy, this mammoth? And at this crucial juncture in the political calendar?

Gee: WhoÂ’s stupid now?

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In the past few years, our friends in the Democratic Party have happened upon a very effective technique. When faced with discussing a contentious issue, Democratic Party strategists have favored using spokesmen who, for one reason or another, are somehow beyond criticism.

For instance, our Democratic pals sent out a gaggle of 9/11 widows to criticize Donald Rumsfeld and the Iraq War. Naturally, human beings with anything resembling compassion (read: Not Ann Coulter) felt a bit churlish about ripping in to such women, given the horrors they’ve endured. Accordingly, when someone ventures a criticism of their position, the Dems can cry foul. “How dare you attack these poor, defenseless ladies,” they screech.

Our nation has just witnessed another example of this incipient Democratic Party tradition in the form of a diminutive Canadian with an unfortunate ailment. As is well known, Michael J. Fox, the genius who helped bring you Back to the Future 3 (because so much was left unsaid in part two), took to the airwaves to criticize Republican positions on embryonic stem-cell research.

Now, donÂ’t get us wrong, dear reader: WeÂ’re completely in favor of such research and wholeheartedly support Mr. FoxÂ’s position. All the same, we believe the campaign ads featuring Mr. Fox were misleading and unfair.

Ah, but it was another prime example of this delightful new Democratic strategy: As a man suffering from ParkinsonÂ’s disease, Mr. Fox should not be criticized. DonÂ’t take our word for it: Ask Rush Limbaugh, who begrudgingly apologized for ripping on Mr. FoxÂ’s commercials.

As far as we’re concerned, the Democrats have come up with their most ingenious strategy since “triangulation.” If we were Howard Dean—and, full disclosure, we’re not—we’d make use of this killer Democratic weapon as much as possible.

There’s a little thing called the presidential election creeping up on us, and it’s high time the Dems stop prattling on about Hillary Clinton, Al Gore, and Barak Obama, and start thinking about ways to leave the Republicans in the dust. We, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” think the Democrats should ditch all these high-profile candidates in favor of a far more effective team.

HereÂ’s our idea for a resolutely unassailable administration:

President: A lesbian Eskimo with AlzheimerÂ’s disease

Vice President: Emmanuel Lewis

Secretary of State: A wheelchair-bound former rape victim

Secretary of Defense: Smurfette

Secretary of Transportation: An Amish schoolgirl

And so on, and so forth. Quite frankly, we donÂ’t care whom the Republicans nominate. Even John McCain would be wary of debating the guy who used to play Webster. Man, that little bugger is so cute.

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We, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” are officially fed up with politics. As every humanoid with a pulse (and at least a few without a pulse) must know, the midterm elections are approaching apace and the nation is all abuzz about them.

Racist television commercials; homosexual ephebophilic indiscretions; dubious financial transactions—these and kindred political flaps appear, like Martians in bad 1950s sci-fi flicks, to have invaded the country. If it gets any worse, the E! television network might very well eschew its 24-7 coverage of Madonna’s recent foray into celebrity imperialism and start discussing, say, George Allen. Not that that’d be a step up.

Maybe weÂ’re the only ones, but this wall-to-wall political coverage has made us run for the sick bag. At some point soon, perhaps, our political interests will reemerge; for now, however, weÂ’d prefer to talk about, say, testicle removal. Or, on a related note, Clay Aiken.

So, in today’s humble “post,” we have decided to do our level best to avoid political matters altogether. Frankly, given the introduction to this musing, we may have failed already. Regardless (or, as our boorish pals say, “irregardless”), from this point on, dear reader, today’s animadversion is strictly apolitical.

Instead of prattling on about the horrors of Democrats and Republicans, weÂ’ve determined to harp on an entirely unrelated matter, but one that is irksome nonetheless. Sure, in the grand scheme of things, it may not make the list of the WorldÂ’s Most Enraging Phenomena, like hunger, violence, and Billy Joel. But itÂ’s troublesome all the same.

We refer, dear reader, to a particular kind of “website” that never ceases to bother us. Try as we might, we simply can’t get over how loathsome they are.

These detested “websites” belong to what genre, you ask? Well, the answer is simple: “Websites” that take an obnoxiously long time to load.

Now, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” are fully willing to admit that we’re partly to blame for this. Despite generous assistance from our deep-pocketed financial backers, the computer technology at our headquarters would make the average Zimbabwean laugh. In fact, it’d probably make the average Rhodesian smirk.

But just because getting on the Internet at our offices requires access to a butter churner doesn’t mean that we’re entirely at fault. For some reason, the proprietors of some “websites” have made it their life’s work to maximize the amount of a prospective reader’s wasted time. They love e-clutter.

Frankly, dear reader, we can take a gander at anything: Michael MooreÂ’s innerds; a Barbara Boxer lingerie calendar; New Jersey. But for crying out loud, donÂ’t make us wait so long.

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Everyone’s seen the arguments: The New York Times is right-wing; NBC, ABC, and CBS are arch-conservative outlets; The Washington Post is crypto-fascist; &c. These are just a few of the countless examples of what we’ve taken to calling “The Eric Alterman Proposition.”

Mr. Alterman, for those of you blissfully unaware of him, is the incessantly enraged media critic of The Nation, a neo-Stalinoid rag that has offered conventional un-wisdom to members of the chattering class since 1865. If you pretend to love the downtrodden but donÂ’t feel comfortable outside the comfy purlieus of the faculty lounge, chances are youÂ’re a huge fan of The Nation.

As a columnist for this intellectual sinking ship, Mr. Alterman has made something of a name for himself by excoriating the mainstream media for its sickening conservative bias. If Mr. Alterman's palaver weren’t taken so seriously, it would actually serve as an interesting experiment: How unhinged from reality does an argument have to get before our “progressive” pals won’t believe it any longer?

Naturally, Mr. AltermanÂ’s ravings that Democratic-leaning media outlets with overwhelmingly Democrat-leaning staffs are fountains of hardcore conservatism are just plain moronic. But this doesnÂ’t stop his fellow lefty friends offering kindred examples of this feculent argument.

Why, just take a look at a particularly pathetic example from one Tony Hendra. In a savage, vitriolic essay for The Huffington Post, Mr. Hendra argues that National Public Radio is a bastion of evil Republicans. Oh, and that President Bush is a “cretinous coward” whom many Americans would savor to see “choke to death on his own blood.”

Ah, so NPR is a collection of Burkeans too, eh? Wow: One wonders where all the liberal journalists go. After all, polls demonstrate that left-wing hacks outnumber their right-wing brethren by wide margins, but somehow only the conservatives get employed? Very, very curious.

Frankly, dear reader, we’ve had enough. “The Eric Alterman Proposition” is entirely foolish. If you ask us, it’s not even an argument. On the contrary, it’s an attempt at damage control from those who dislike cries of liberal media bias. And we aim to put a stop to it.

But how do we aim to do that? Well, by coming up with our alternate absurd proposition. We call it “The Crack Young Staff Proposition,” and it’ll serve as a perfect foil for Mr. Alterman’s nonsense.

Put simply, our moronic contention is this: All so-called “conservative” media—right-wing talk radio; conservative “weblogs”; Fox News—are actually fountains of paleo-liberalism. Rush Limbaugh? He’s a Communist. Brit Hume? That sickening Trotskyite. Ann Coulter? Well, she’s a liberal and guilty of treason in our book. Q.E.D.

So, bring it on, Alterman. LetÂ’s see whose proposition is stupider.

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As everyone well knows, the rationales offered in defense of “affirmative action” (a.k.a. preferential treatment) are legion. One can, of course, poke a hole through every last one of them, but this hasn’t stopped our liberal friends from presenting a veritable cornucopia of excuses aimed at prolonging this odious exercise in un-Constitutional social gerrymandering.

Of all the jejune defenses of “affirmative action,” however, perhaps the “role model” rationale strikes us as the most mealy-mouthed. You know how it goes, dear reader: The reason “underrepresented” minorities fail to achieve in school is a lack of adequate professorial role models. Thus American universities must hire as many “underrepresented” minorities as they can find, in order to ensure the future success of these students—almost all of whom were admitted due to preferential treatment anyway.

Thanks to this moronic justification, darn near all professorial job annoucements offer Orwellian rhetoric like: “The University of Southeastern Montana is an equal opportunity-affirmative action employer. Women and minorities are especially encouraged to apply.” Naturally, the question beckons: If you’re so darn concerned about “equal opportunity” why do you especially encourage any racial or gender group to apply?

Although we’re no experts on the matter, we’d wager that this “role model” rationale for “affirmative action” has also kept many non-“underrepresented” minorities out of high school teaching gigs. Ah, heck, our lefty pals say: It’s only the education of our children; why bother hiring the best person for the job when you can assuage liberal guilt instead?

All of this wouldn’t rankle so much if the “role model” model of social gerrymandering actually made sense. We, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” insist that it’s utterly specious. And we aim to prove this by means of a fitting comparison.

Many people complain that there are far too few high-level minority coaches in collegiate and professional athletics. According to plenty of folks, the lily-white faces taking charge in our nationÂ’s locker rooms are a blight on our society. For this reason, one occasionally hears calls for more, say, black head coaches in, say, football or basketball.

Interestingly, however, the “role model” rationale is never offered in this context. And for good reason: It makes no sense. Although there’s apparently a manifest lack of black coaches in the NFL, this hasn’t served to alienate blacks from succeeding in football. Quite the contrary, in fact: Black players dominate the NFL—and many other professional sports leagues—even though there are few black head coaches to serve as role models.

So why, exactly, must we believe that a lack of professorial role models is to blame for comparative minority underachievement in school?

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Okay, here’s something that bothers us no end. Have you ever walked down the street and spied a middle-aged morbidly obese person with a gorgeous head of hair? We, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” sure have, and, without fear of hyperbole, we must say it’s amongst the most irksome phenomena in the history of humanity.

We mean, come on: If youÂ’re fatter than Rosie OÂ’Donnell and Orson Wells combined, youÂ’ve officially let yourself go. And, if youÂ’ve officially let yourself go, you most assuredly donÂ’t deserve a full head of hair. A full back of hair, perhaps, but surely not a full head of hair.

We donÂ’t mean to offer an homage to eugenicists, but we simply must say it: Fat guys with perfect heads of hair are a complete waste of genetic material. This doesnÂ’t imply that we favor any sort of pogrom, but we think theyÂ’re useless all the same.

After all, women, as a general rule, do not savor the horrendously out-of-shape. It’s sad, dear reader, but it’s true. So, if you weigh about as much as a Hummer—and waste about as much gas—there’s a good chance that you’re not exactly sex symbol material. Even if you have a clef chin.

As such, the outrageously plump require a full head of hair about as much as Paris Hilton needs slut lessons. Or, if you prefer, about as much as Tom Cruise needs homosexual intercourse.

For some reason, however, we see portly fellows with dashing coiffeurs with great regularity. In fact, weÂ’re beginning to believe it has something to do with bad karma: Perhaps we were mean to a babysitter some time ago, and now we must pay by spotting oodles of fat guys with dashing haircuts.

Actually, the mere existence of frightfully overweight men with full heads of hair has made us rethink our position on Richard Dawkins. You know Richard Dawkins, dear reader: The neo-Darwinian maniac whose latest book, The God Delusion, attempts to proselytize in favor of atheism.

If you ask us, Mr. DawkinÂ’s personal history presents us with a bit of a Catch-22: We want to believe that heÂ’s thoroughly wrong, but, if God truly presided over a just world, would Richard Dawkins have such a successful career? Not bloody likely, eh?

So, maybe Richard Dawkins is the public intellectualsÂ’ answer to a morbidly obese guy with a nice hairdo?

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As the entire civilized world assuredly recognizes, this January Atlanta will be the home of the 121st Annual Meeting of the American Historical Association (AHA). This charming get-together will serve as a meeting of the minds for sundry academic historians and will offer aspiring professors the chance to interview for a diminishing number of posts.

Let us not forget, of course, that the upcoming AHA powwow will also be home to numerous scintillating academic papers—15-minute presentations that feel as if they were at least 45 minutes. (If you’re doctor informs you that you only have 15 minutes left to live, we suggest you head directly to the AHA conference: Sitting through a paper will make it seem as if you had at least a half-hour.)

In addition to traipsing around the city of Atlanta, then, our history professors will also have the distinct pleasure of taking in such wondrous panels as “Historicizing Lesbian Identities: Postwar U.S. Perspectives.” Boy, that ought to be awfully illuminating. But is anyone else itching for the crucial “prewar perspective”? Maybe it’s just us.

We, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” mention the upcoming AHA meet-n-greet because a longtime correspondent of this “weblog” recently sent us an official program of events. Accordingly, we figured that we’d focus today’s “post” on the get-together. More specifically, we figured that we’d suggest a few of the panels to attend, in order to make sure that our devoted readership won’t miss a minute of the juiciest sessions. Yeah, we figured you’d thank us for it.

As far as we can intuit, the most essential presentations are both part of the official “poster session.” Our handy program informs us: “Offered for the second time at the 2007 Annual Meeting, this poster session provides a venue for the newest developing historical research.”

We know what you’re thinking, dear reader: Sounds pretty good. So what, you may be wondering, amounts to “the newest developing historical research”?

Well, how about this delight from Jeremy Boggs of George Mason University: “Material Cultures of Filth and Cleanliness: The American Bathroom at the Turn of the Last Century.” Wow: We can’t imagine skipping out on this learned scholar’s deeply important contribution to Western culture. We wonder where he came up with such an enlightened idea.

But maybe this is outdone by Alexia P. Long of Georgia State University. Her contribution to this distinguished poster session? “In Search of the American Pimp.” Presumably, a few of the historians at the conference will be conducting a similar quest during the meeting’s off-hours.

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As has been much reported in the press, something of a row erupted recently in Britain regarding Muslim womenÂ’s fashion. Jack Straw, the leader of the House of Commons, earned UK MuslimsÂ’ wrath by asserting that Muslim females should not wear full-face veils. Such regalia, he argued, rendered communication more difficult.

Suddenly, the folks in the Labor Party, who previously preferred displays of “multiculturalism” to free sex with supermodels, have recognized that the creation of separatist cultural-religious enclaves may not be so peachy keen for a society’s health. Maybe there’s something to that “assimilation” thing after all. Gee, who would have seen that one coming?

Perhaps, dear reader, you find it surprising that our Islamic pals became enraged at Mr. StrawÂ’s criticism. After all, if thereÂ’s anything EuropeÂ’s burgeoning Muslim population is known for, itÂ’s heartwarming displays of tolerance. (That, and hatred of Jews, of course.) Naturally, the great majority of our Muslim friends simply savor public criticism. Just ask the Danish newspaper industry.

All the same, a number of Muslims took to the streets to protest Mr. StrawÂ’s remarks. Although the London bombings didnÂ’t seem to trouble them much, theyÂ’ve finally hit upon something that got their dander up.

We, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” read about this recent brouhaha in the October 18 number of The New York Times. There one can find Alan Cowell’s piece “Blair Criticizes Full Islamic Veils as ‘Mark of Separation,’” which, as its name implies, details the Prime Minister’s half-hearted defense of Mr. Straw’s original criticisms.

It wasnÂ’t the article that we found particularly interesting, however. Rather, the piece was accompanied by a photograph of a Muslim anti-Straw protest.

This picture contained a sign whose message particularly hit home. “Jack Straw: Enemy of Civilisation,” reads the placard.

Let that sink in a minute, dear reader: Jack Straw, an enemy of civilization. Man, the fellow holding that sign really has some nerve, doesnÂ’t he?

We mean, come on: ItÂ’s a bit of an overstatement to liken criticism of a full-face veil to the denunciation of Islamic civilization, isnÂ’t it? One would probably think so.

But this is not what so enrages. If Jack Straw is really an “enemy of civilisation,” it’s a civilization currently so troubled that it fosters a full panoply of deeply odious political regimes. And don’t just take our word for it: Sqillions of Muslim immigrants have agreed with us by voting with their feet. You don’t see scores of Brits heading to, say, Saudi Arabia or Pakistan in hopes of a better life under more satisfactory political authorities.

If this “civilization” is so wondrous, why did these thin-skinned protestors hightail it away from it at the first available opportunity?

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For young eggheads around the country, itÂ’s that time again. Time, that is to say, to put on your best suit and interview for academic jobs.

Yes, for sundry unemployed and unemployable academics (is there any other kind?), the coming months mark many disciplines’ professional conferences—the settings at which desperate, overeducated sods attempt to land scarce work. From what we can muster from our academic pals, it’s a frustrating period. Hey, if you just spent the last four years of your life working on “Otherness” as a metaphor in the work of Michel Foucault, you’d probably get a bit nervous when job time came around.

Now, many of our readers are non-academics. Or, if you prefer, productive members of society. For their benefit, we suppose, we figured that weÂ’d offer a little taste of the delights the academic job market brings.

After all, we’re told that scrambling around for a professorial gig can prove infuriating. With 158,684,899 applicants for each opening, you stand about as much chance of landing a tenure-track position as the Arditti String Quartet has of winning the World Series. And, with their ‘cellist on the DL again, that’s not bloody likely.

That is unless, of course, you possess rare skills and talents crucial to being a coruscating success in the academic universe. By which, of course, we mean that you are black.

So, as a way to demonstrate the charming perfection that is the academic employment hunt, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” decided to present a typical professorial job advertisement. We think it’ll do the trick quite nicely.

Without any further ado, then, hereÂ’s our sample ad for an academic opening:

University of North Western Wisconsin at Oshkosha

Pending budgetary approval, the Department of English, Whaling, and Taxidermy at the University of North Western Wisconsin at Oshkosha (downtown campus) seeks to fill a part-time, one-year (non-tenure-track) position in the field of Postcolonial Literature, broadly defined.

The successful applicant will have: 1) an ability to teach English literature of all periods at all levels, from introductory courses to graduate seminars; 2) at least three years of taxidermy experience, with which s/he will oversee the universityÂ’s prestigious Foyt Center of Animal Husbandry and Taxidermy; 3) an ability to teach Urdu composition and Sanskrit to night-school classes; 4) at least five refereed publications in the field of whaling studies.

The teaching load is 5/4 (or, maybe, 6/5). The Department seeks a broadly trained scholar with an active research agenda, a wandering eye, and a scorching case of herpes. Pay: $17,450, no benefits.

The UNWO is a thriving academic institution in the historic, panoramic setting of downtown Oshkosha (population 2,402).

The UNWO maintains a firm commitment to equal opportunity employment. Accordingly, it particularly encourages applications from women and “underrepresented” minorities, so it can egregiously discriminate on the basis of gender and race.

Now, arenÂ’t you glad you went to law school?

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On occasion, strollers around Al Gore’s World-Wide Web happen upon this humble “website” and criticize its contents. Some feel as if we’re too political. Others think that we’re insufficiently political. Still others believe that we don’t mention Peter Frampton enough. (That last group, however, is essentially confined to Peter Frampton’s mother.)

Yet perhaps the complaint we hear most often is the following: The crack young staff wastes too much time on nugatory subject matter. Gillette razors; Billy Joel; Sudafed—this isn’t the lifeblood of an important “weblog.”

Well, dear reader, having grown accustomed to this gripe, we’ve decided to dedicate today’s “post” to proving it dead wrong. Sure, we may pen a throwaway column on, say, the word “moist” now and again. But, when push comes to shove, we’re big time intellectuals. You know, like Pete Dupont.

You doubt it? Then, nonbeliever, savor the topic of today’s thoughtful musing: Ending world hunger. Not too shabby, eh? Whilst you’re off in search of copious Internet pornography, we’re busy single-handedly saving the world. How do you like ‘dem apples?

Okay, you say, lay your brilliant idea on us. Well, here goes.

As everyone knows, Third World babies are all the rage in Hollywood. Quite frankly, unless you’ve procured a sub-Saharan or Central Asian tyke for your collection, you just aren’t anybody anymore. Ever since Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt went hunting for “disadvantaged” kiddies to smother, adopting “underrepresented” babies has become a jet-set fetish.

We, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” think that we should harness this fad and make the best of it, rather than poke fun at it as a noxious example of paternalistic imperialism—designer tribalism, in Roger Sandall’s apt phrase. With a little bit of effort, we think that this fascination with malnourished children can be of great help to the world.

So hereÂ’s our grand scheme: A massive expansion of celebrity Third-World baby-knapping can lead to the utter abolition of world hunger. Sure, itÂ’s going to cost a lot of stars some money, but, with a little elbow grease, we can wind up putting every less fortunate child on the planet in Rosie OÂ’DonnellÂ’s home. Or, failing that, Steve GutenbergÂ’s.

HereÂ’s how itÂ’ll work: The more disastrous a given country is, the fancier the star whoÂ’ll be compelled to adopt its children. For instance, the kids of Rwanda will wind up in Michael JacksonÂ’s care (God help them), whereas ColombiaÂ’s tots will be forced to shack up with Adrian Zmed.

If everything works out as weÂ’ve calculated it, by 2075 no child will live in poverty. Sure, theyÂ’ll be compelled to listen to endless stories from the likes of Ryan OÂ’Neal, but even thatÂ’s a bit better than starving.

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Yeah, that’s right: We made it. In a little over two-and-a-half years on Al Gore’s Internet, this humble “weblog” has earned 200,000 “hits.” Not too shabby, eh? You never thought we could do it, did you? You unsupportive bastard.

Yup, that’s 200,000 “hits” in the bag, baby. If we recall our perusals of athletes’ poorly written memoirs correctly, we’ve just landed more e-visits than Wilt Chamberlain landed ladies.

And who had more fun? Whilst ole’ Wilt was off a-fornicating, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” were busy penning devastatingly brilliant “posts” about all and sundry. Yes, that probably means Wilt had more fun. But, hey, we come in a not-too-distant second.

Frankly, dear reader, we never imagined weÂ’d make it this far. Or this long: Writing tasteless yuks and pointless rants every weekday isnÂ’t easy. Thankfully, our staff of well over 250 lads and lasses helps keep our operation in tip-top form. We like to think of ourselves as the World-Wide WebÂ’s answer to Arnold Schwarzenegger: A well-oiled machine. Or, failing that, the InternetÂ’s answer to Marv Albert: Well-oiled.

Now, before you get concerned about today’s festival of self-congratulations, we must say that our e-success won’t go to our heads. We fully realize that a real well-traveled “website”—say Glenn Reynold’s Instapundit or any pornographic “site” devoted to midgets—garners around 200,000 "hits" per diem.

As impressed as we think we may be, we must realize that our humble “weblog” probably doesn’t reach as many readers as the ravings of Lyndon LaRouche. And that doesn’t say too much for us: After all, unlike Mr. LaRouche, we’ve never run for president from prison.

Further, we suppose we ought to mention that many of our “hits”—perhaps a larger number than we’d care to admit—actually stem from the crack young staff itself. Unsurprisingly, we like to check up on our earth-shattering animadversions each day, and that on its own racks up a lot of e-visits.

Accordingly, instead of incessantly patting ourselves on our collective back, perhaps we ought to thank the three or four people who actually trouble themselves to read the horse manure we “post” every day. With your help, we’ve made this little corner of the Internet only slightly more popular than a “weblog” entirely devoted to the discussion of monkeys.

So, gee, thanks. We never could have done it without you.

Well, actually we could have, but it would have taken about three more months.

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Bitch, bitch, bitch. Complain, complain, complain. In a nutshell, the two previous (pseudo-)sentences encapsulate the lifeblood of this humble “weblog.” Actually, they do so even outside of a nutshell.

If we arenÂ’t kvetching about the useful idiots at The Huffington Post or hectoring the useless idiots at The Nation, you can bet weÂ’re laying into some dimwitted column in the Gray Lady. At times, dear reader, our hectic excoriation schedule makes a garden-variety one trick pony seem as if it can actually do two tricks. WeÂ’re like the Jessica Simpsons of the Internet: WeÂ’re only good for one thing.

Yet not today. For in this humble installment of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” we endeavor to laud, not contemn. We aim to praise, not scorn. On this day, we play the role of hagiographers and encomiasts. To put it in more demotic phraseology, we want to say something nice.

Without much in the way of further ado, then, allow us to commence with the e-praise.

As often occurs round about this time of year, the Official Headquarters of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly” has morphed into a veritable Petrie dish of disease. Unfortunately, the crack young staff is currently carrying more illnesses than a veteran French whore with a nasty intravenous drug habit. Who’s dating Charlie Sheen.

In this time of need, dear reader, we often turn to a product that works wonders: Sudafed. If only other pharmaceuticals were half as effective!

Admittedly, this powerful nasal decongestant has its downsides. After popping a couple of these magic pills, one routinely experiences a minor case of vertigo—the legs begin to buckle and you feel as if you may very well pass out.

In addition, we would be remiss if we failed to mention that Sudafed can leave you feeling drier than the Mohave Desert in the summer. Not to mention the slight jitters it tends to bring.

Ah, but that’s nothing in comparison with its benefits. Simply put, the stuff works wonders, and they keep making more potent versions of this wonder drug each year. Four hours, six hours, 10 hours, 24 hours—pretty soon the folks behind Sudafed will patent a decongestant that you only have to take annually.

So, fine: Let all the huzzahs go to NyQuil, the PCP of cold medications. WeÂ’ll take our Sudafed, some Puffs Plus, and a box of herbal tea any day of the week. If Rogaine worked as well as Sudafed, weÂ’d be much happier fellows. And ladies.

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As befits a strikingly popular destination on Al Gore’s World-Wide Web, this humble “weblog” earns its share of fan mail. From Harrisburg to Helsinki (though, to be honest, more from the former than the latter), devotees of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly” routinely send us all sorts of e-regards.

“You guys are the greatest.” “I’m going to name my kids ‘crack’ after you.” Such are the epistles that greet our Official E-Mail Intern each morning. Man, it’s nice to be loved.

Every once in what our Japanese friends call a brew moon, however, we find ourselves on the receiving end of a less generous e-missive. For some odd reason, our humble animadversions have the ability to stick in some peoplesÂ’ craws. Perhaps itÂ’s unavoidable, but itÂ’s true all the same.

Such was clearly the case in regard to a letter we received in our e-mail box a few days ago. It was penned by one David Perfect, an employee at Jacobs Engineering Group (David.Perfect@jacobs.com). As you’ll see, it was a short note, yet still displayed its author’s wrath. Since this is a family “website,” we’ll have to censor his message a bit (we think you’ll figure out where).

The delightful epistle reads as follows:

F*** you for your comments on miss [sic] Rohe.

ThatÂ’s it. No further comments, no threats, no nothing.

Well, except, that is to say, the following curious disclaimer, which weÂ’d imagine stems from the corporate office of Jacobs Engineering:

NOTICE – This communication may contain confidential and privileged information that is for the sole use of the intended recipient. Any viewing, copying or distribution of, or reliance on this message by unintended recipients is strictly prohibited. If you have received this message in error, please notify us immediately by replying to the message and deleting it from your computer.

Oh, for crying out loud: Mr. Perfect didn’t just send us a “F*** You” letter; he sent us a “F*** You” letter that “may contain confidential and privileged information.”

If you ask us, that’s pretty lame. Who has the balls to send us a “F*** You, and Don’t You Dare Tell Anyone About It” missive? And who would be dumb enough to think that we’d honor this request?

The answer, dear reader, is David Perfect, the perfect nincompoop who works at Jacobs Engineering.

Now, you may be wondering what exactly got Mr. PerfectÂ’s dander up. Perhaps you remember Jean Sara Rohe, the dimwitted brat whose 15 minutes of fame revolved around her ill-mannered excoriation of Senator John McCain at the most recent New School graduation ceremony? Yeah, we didnÂ’t either.

Anyway, when all our leftist pals were abuzz about the “daring” Ms. Rohe, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” took aim at her. In short, we called her a sophomoric dunce who has all the guts of a fruit fly. Wow: Ridiculing a Republican senator at a graduation in New York City—how reckless can you get? Who would have known that her New School audience would be entirely sympathetic?

Interestingly, weÂ’ve had our share of irate e-mails as a result of our ripping on the addlebrained Jean Sara Rohe. And we find that funny: Although she earned her fleeting notoriety for publicly flogging a senator, her fans donÂ’t like anyone criticizing her. Obviously, Ms. RoheÂ’s devotees must think she has a thinner skin than John McCain.

And this leads us back to Mr. Perfect. Naturally, we wanted to reply to his charming e-mail. But it was hard to come up with the perfect sentiment. After a few seconds of careful thought, we sent him the following:

Dear Mr. Perfect,

Thank you for your heartfelt defense of Jean Sara Rohe. Your argument in her favor—although a tad longwinded—completely convinced us. As a result of your compelling missive, we have finally recognized our errors. We now realize that Jean Sara Rohe, far from being an ill-bred, closed-minded hippie, is a national treasure.

In the future, we hope to receive further sagacious e-missives from your pen, which will correct our missteps.

Cordially,

The Crack Young Staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly”

NOTICE – This communication may contain irony. Any viewing of this message by those stupid enough to send us a pathetic example of hate mail is strictly prohibited.

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ItÂ’s going to be a vexing day for our leftist friends. A little thing we like to call evidence just smacked them in the face. ItÂ’s not, to be sure, a life-altering fact, but itÂ’ll rankle nonetheless.

Allow us to set the scene. A few weeks ago, our “netroots” pals were up in arms about Chris Wallace’s supposed “conservative hit job” on ex-President Bill Clinton. To the Nation-reading, Kos-surfing, granola-eating, Volvo-driving, Jon Stewart-loving left-wing nitwits, Mr. Wallace’s Fox News interview with Bubba was proof positive that deranged wacko Eric Alterman has a point. That is to say, the media are horribly biased—in favor of the political Right.

Now, for anyone with even a passing familiarity with what is commonly called reality, this is beyond absurd. Alterman, an off-kilter Stalinoid kook, may think that The New York Times is a bastion of reactionaries, but thatÂ’s probably because heÂ’s somewhere to the left of Pol Pot.

All the same, in the “netroots’” telling, the Chris Wallace Fox News Sunday fiasco was proof positive of the evils of the conservative American media. It was obvious, they thought, that the Rupert Murdoch puppet Mr. Wallace was merely a right-wing hack aiming to take down the former philanderer-in-chief.

Ah, but that was then. And this, as they say, is now.

Thanks to a stroll on Glenn Reynold’s famous “weblog”—which, we must add, has “linked” to this humble “site” in the past—we found an interesting tidbit in The Washington Post. As reporters Amy Argetsinger and Roxanne Roberts report, Chris Wallace—the doyen of arch-conservative hit-jobs—is himself a registered Democrat, and has been so for more than two full decades.

Surely this must send the leftist mind reeling. “Chris Wallace, a Democrat? It simply can’t be!”

To make matters worse, Chris Wallace also isnÂ’t Jewish, so the Left wonÂ’t be able to blame him for that either. Man, theyÂ’re really running out of ammunition.

Just imagine all the difficult soul-searching that the Daily Cossacks will be compelled to engage in: Perhaps Mr. Wallace isn’t a part of the insidious and omnipresent “right-wing conspiracy.” Maybe he just—gulp!—asked Bill Clinton one tough question?

Luckily for them, our pals on the Left do have one way to avoid the painful and vertiginous process of self-criticism: They could just ignore the story altogether. Frankly, when youÂ’re a Leftist, youÂ’re pretty good at disregarding evidence. How else do you wind up rosy views about Jimmy Carter?

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