A little while ago, dear reader, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” penned a “post” for Wizbang taking issue with a recent speech the Deputy Secretary-General of the United Nations, Mark Malloch Brown, offered, which was harshly critical of American concerns regarding the UN. In short, we skewered Mr. Brown for suggesting that it was American criticism of the UN—and not the assorted fiascos associated with the UN itself—that was hampering this august body’s effectiveness.

As you might imagine, the loveable lunatics at The Nation would soon to chime in on this matter. And, as you might also imagine, they have a very different take.

In a piece for America’s favorite political weekly fittingly printed on toilet paper, one Ian Williams lauds Mr. Brown for his rousing attempt to silence American criticism of the UN. Quizzically, the folks at The Nation, who typically believe that “dissent is the highest form of patriotism,” do not think that dissent is kosher in regard to the UN.

All must bow to the UN—the delightfully unaccountable global government aiming to give votes to kleptocratic regimes that don’t allow their own citizens to vote. In regard to clamoring for UN reform, dissent apparently isn’t okay to the folks at The Nation, in part because in this case the dissent actually is patriotic.

All the typical palaver one would expect to accompany such an argument can be found in Mr. WilliamsÂ’ feculent piece. ThereÂ’s lots of nasty sniping at John BoltonÂ’s expense; it seems that rampant UN corruption and ineffectiveness pale in comparison to the machinations of Mr. Bolton.

Ah, yes: How dare Mr. Bolton dissent from the anti-Semitic ravings of the Arab bloc at the UN! Does he want to alienate America by foolishly taking the unpopular position that Israel deserves to exist? Who does he think he is?

Add to the typical anti-Bolton nonsense a marked inability to mention any of the sundry UN scandals. In Ian Williams’ world—much as in Mark Malloch Brown’s—Oil-for-Food, UN rapes of underage girls, large pensions for corrupt UN officials, and so forth don’t merit discussion. No, the big problem is America’s peevish criticism of UN officials who, like Brown, make healthy, non-taxable six-figure salaries, mostly on the US’ dime.

But we particularly savored this bit from Mr. WilliamsÂ’ pathetic disquisition:

As Malloch Brown stated, US policy is "stealth" diplomacy; the UN's role, so assiduously worked for by Washington, is "in effect a secret in Middle America." And indeed, it is. Bolton's echo chamber in the Murdoch media, or "Fox and Rush Limbaugh," as he put, have continually attacked the organization--not for its behavior but for its existence.

This leads us to wonder: Has Ian Williams read any criticism of the United Nations? Has he ever read anything? Is he literate?

We have good reason to doubt it. Although we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” have read numerous conservative complaints about the UN, we’ve yet to see an article that attacks it “not for its behavior but for its existence.”

On the face of it, this is absurd. How could a critique of the UN not focus at least tangentially on its miserable record? Perhaps Mr. Williams should remove his face from Mark Malloch BrownÂ’s posterior and take a gander at some Claudia Rosette columns. He might learn a thing or two.

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Weeks ago, dear reader, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” took aim at pseudo-legal attack dog-cum-pathetic pundit Nancy Grace. At the time, Ms. Grace was disgracing herself by offering extremely unfair discussions of the Duke lacrosse scandal on her television program. Although we weren’t certain about the allegations, we excoriated Ms. Grace for her snarky, over-the-top commentary on the matter.

Since that time, as you undoubtedly know, the rape allegations against the three Duke lacrosse players have all but fallen apart. Defense lawyers have leaked the report District Attorney Mike Nifong gave to them, and it appears very clear to all but the most unhinged that, as Gertrude Stein said of Oakland, thereÂ’s no there there.

Meanwhile, Mike Nifong is in a kind of career tailspin that would make Richard Marx gasp. And that, dear friends, is saying something.

So what, we wondered, would Nancy Grace have to offer about the case now? Mind you, Ms. Grace wasnÂ’t simply mistaken about the brouhaha. She didnÂ’t simply take sides with the accuser. Rather, she presented what can only be called a full-frontal assault on the case.

All guests on her program who dared offer a more complex picture than the “hang ‘em high” scenario she presented were rudely interrupted and castigated. As this barking lunatic saw it, there was no need for a trial at all—someone ought to take out a weapon and just kill those lacrosse bastards. They’re white, they’re rich, they did it. Q.E.D.

Well, what a difference a few weeks, DNA tests, and a mountain of contrary evidence make. As we suspected long ago, it is highly, highly unlikely that any rape occurred, and it seems quite clear that Nancy Grace is about as useful as dehydrated water. And, we might add, sheÂ’s not exactly easy on the eyes.

It is with this in mind that we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” took it upon ourselves to tune into Nancy Grace’s horrific program for the last few nights. Surely, we thought, if Ms. Grace had any, well, grace, she’d apologize for her disgusting performance in this case. After all, she wasn’t merely wrong; she was obnoxious, pig-headed, and well-nigh slanderous.

Ah, but no: Nary a mention of Duke University could be heard on her show. Instead, she seems interested in pretending as if the whole thing never happened. Duke lacrosse? WhatÂ’s that?

Wow, what a class act. Perhaps Mike Nifong can get around to prosecuting her next. At least sheÂ’s guilty of something.

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The other day, dear reader, one of the junior editors here at “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly”—let’s just call him “Chip”—had a bit of grocery shopping to do. Since he found himself in the neighborhood of the local Whole Foods market, “Chip” decided to forgo his usual grocery spot in favor of this more upscale venue.

For those of you unaware of Whole Foods—and given their emergence across the country, that shouldn’t be many of you—allow us to inform you that it’s much like your local grocery store, except with a nose ring. And a better selection of fine cheeses.

Since Whole Foods dabbles in the land of organic foodstuffs, it has a clientele that would fit right in at a Ralph Nader for president gathering or an Enya concert. As such, “Chip” had the opportunity—if that is the mot juste—to lay eyes on one of the kinds of people he avoids like the plague. Having missed the last Cindy Sheehan rally, “Chip” finally got the chance to see the homo Kucinichus in action.

And it ain’t a pretty sight. From his perusal through the Whole Foods isles, “Chip” can report that the average holier-than-thou secularist is an obnoxious cad. Throughout his perambulations, “Chip” bumped into all manner of peaceniks and brotherly-loveniks, and discovered that they aren’t much for peace and brotherly love in their private lives.

In fact, nary a Whole Foods patron could be found without a scowl prominently emblazoned on his or her unpleasant mug. If these radical utopians canÂ’t even get along in their element, what chance does a radical utopia have?

This was amply demonstrated to “Chip” by his trip to the Whole Foods cashier. A typically scraggly fellow with abundant tattoos, this fellow first asked the typical question: “Paper of plastic?”

Yet unlike at the non-chi-chi grocery, this fellow made the query with great trepidation. As the words rolled off his tongue, he seemed jittery, and gave a great sigh of relief when “Chip” pleasantly answered “Plastic will be fine.”

Clearly, this is a guy who is used to getting ruthlessly browbeaten—if not actually beaten—for asking customers their bagging preferences. Ah, how many finger-wagging lectures about landfills and the future of the earth has this poor clerk been forced to endure!

All in all, “Chip” thought that, minus the Yoga Monthly, the Yoga Weekly, the Yoga Daily, and Nicaraguan Guru magazines at the checkout, Whole Foods is just a typical grocery store—for nasty elitist pseudo-radical dolts. The folks who inhabit such a haunt might vote for Nancy Pelosi, but they’d be pleased to run over your cat if it could get them to their Bikram class on time.

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In his work The Fall, Albert Camus wrote “A single sentence will suffice for modern man: he fornicated and read the papers.” Well, it appears as if an even simpler sentence will suffice for postmodern man: He fornicated.

As everyone in the First World knows, newspapers worldwide have seen a steady decline in readers, whilst the average age of their subscribers is now so high that Metamucil may soon take up most of their advertising space. Well, Metamucil and crematoriums.

This, we fear, has been one of the lamentable results of Al Gore’s World-Wide Web. So many people get their news—or what masquerades as news—from various e-outfits that newspapers are becoming less hip than Gary Bauer. (And that, dear friends, is saying something.)

But, before we blame the “webloggers” for this unfortunate situation, let us not forget that working journalists bear some responsibility as well. Although these fellows and ladies pass themselves off as impartial—nay, Olympian—observers of the world, they often prove slightly less than impartial.

Allow us to turn to a case in point. In the Sunday, June 18 number of The New York Times, an article on “websites” discussing terrorism appeared. Penned by one Robert F. Worth, it packages itself as a guide to various outfits discussing the modern Middle East. To this end, Mr. Worth informs us:

Journalists in Iraq are far too busy with the perils of on-the-ground reporting to sit at screens for hours browsing terrorist Internet traffic. That is why the new array of online expertise has become an essential tip sheet for them. A whole new mini-industry of instantaneous translation and analysis has arisen, and it often erodes the traditional distinctions between credentialed foreign policy analysts and mere amateurs.

So far, so good. But check out this bit of “objectivity” from Mr. Worth:

[Juan] Cole, a strong critic of the Iraq war and of the administration’s grasp of the Middle East, has inspired a range of ferocious critics. Some, like the bloggers Martin Kramer and Tony Badran, maintain at times a virtual running account of their differences with Mr. Cole, under headlines like “Making Cole-Slaw of History” and “Juan-Cology.”

Ah, yes: Completely impartial. Mr. Cole, whom Worth advertises as a professor at the University of Michigan, is a “strong critic” of the Iraq War. Mr. Kramer, whom Worth fails to advertise as a PhD in Middle Eastern Studies from Princeton and a prominent think-tanker, is a “ferocious critic” of Mr. Cole. How very fair! No tilting the deck here!

As anyone who has read Juan Cole’s “weblog” well knows, both he and his detractors are capable of nasty ad hominem attacks. Yet Mr. Worth doesn’t seem to see it that way. Rather, Mr. Cole is the unfairly targeted object of attacks.

Which leads us to wonder: Has Mr. Worth ever read Juan Cole’s “weblog”? Or is he a complete moron? We’re betting on a bit of both.

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Well, dear reader, we tried. For almost a quarter of an hour, we took time out of our busy schedules and parked ourselves in front of the television for a rousing bit of soccer. As everyone else outside American knows, the FIFA World Cup is currently taking place in Germany, and we figured weÂ’d see what the fuss was all about.

But, quite frankly, we found it simply un-viewable. In fact, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” considered it so dull that its popularity throughout the earth left us baffled. In this respect, soccer is just like Phil Collins.

We mean, come on: Here were two insignificant countries, whose young men would be better served working on their nation’s GDPs, kicking a soccer ball back and forth, standing still for long bouts of time, and generally doing nothing entertaining. All the while, the audience—which clearly loves low scores as much as it savors ties—was enraptured, howling chants and singing rousing songs.

What the heck is going on here? If the people of the world find Americans so stupid, why do they take delight in a game only slightly more pleasurable to watch than golf? Soccer hooligans canÂ’t control themselves over this nonsense? Gosh: Soccer makes curling seem like D-Day. The enthusiasm is baffling. It defies logic.

But perhaps what particularly troubles us, dear reader, is the American contingent of soccer fans. Sure, the people of Ecuador may enjoy soccer, but, hey, itÂ’s not as if they have much of a hockey season. (After all, when only three people in your country can afford skates, a hockey match is tough to come by.) Yet thereÂ’s simply no excuse for American soccer fans.

In fact, weÂ’ve noted that many an American World Cup enthusiast is actually a pathetic Europhile in disguise. He may pretend to be a soccer devotee, but heÂ’s really just attempting to seem cosmopolitan. You know: If they love it in Amsterdam, itÂ’s got to be really chi-chi.

Naturally, these pseudo-soccer fans always look upon the object of their phony desire as quintessentially European. Never mind that folks elsewhere in the globe like soccer. After all, they think, whatÂ’s cosmopolitan about impoverished countries?

No, these ostentatious lamebrains are fake soccer fans because they think it makes them seem more like a guy named Jap van der Putten or Klaus Himmelschmitt. They’re the kinds of people who love Europe’s Formula One racing, but think Nascar is simply awful. Yeah: “Nigel Mansel” does sound a lot classier than “Ricky Rudd,” doesn’t it? You poseurs.

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We, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” are offering up this, our official Friday “post,” a bit early. If you are taking a gander at these words and it’s still Thursday, now you know why. On the other hand, if you aren’t reading this until Friday, you’ve essentially wasted your time by examining this first paragraph. Sucker.

So, you may (or, more likely, may not) be wondering what the deal is. Why are we “posting” early? Normally, we’re like clockwork: Soon as night follows day, the crack young staff “posts” five times weekly. In fact, we’re so regular that we like to think of ourselves as the Metamucil of the Internet.

Well, thereÂ’s a reason for our atypical un-timeliness. This weekend weÂ’re enjoying something of a treat. Our deep-pocketed financial backers have deigned to send us on a little family retreat, which should allow us to take in some e-barbeque with our e-families at the local e-park.

As we said, itÂ’s a family affair, and you can bet your bottom that weÂ’ll be savoring all sorts of Family Values fun: Laffer curve sack races; Mr. Potatoe Head with Dan Quayle; &c. A good time will be had by all.

Unfortunately for you, dear reader, this leaves you without a Friday “post” offering up-to-date e-commentary on the latest world news. You know, like the fact that Wham! broke up. (Oh, and it turns out that George Michael is a real flamer. Who would have seen that coming? We suppose that “Choose Life” T-shirt he sported didn’t mean that he’s a card-carrying Christian fundamentalist. Maybe he just likes Life cereal?)

No, instead of our au courant ruminations, you are left with this admittedly sub-par “post” devoted to admittedly sub-par logistical matters. Not good, not good indeed.

So how can we make it up to you? Well, how about informing you that our usual Sunday Wizbang essay can already be examined here?

Yeah, we know; it ainÂ’t Sunday yet. But, as we just informed you, weÂ’ll be busy stuffing our faces with Jewish Lobby kosher hotdogs this weekend, and we canÂ’t be troubled to wait for the Muses to inspire.

Accordingly, dear reader, we recommend that you head on over to Wizbang and delight in our typical sagacity. And weÂ’ll catch up with you on Monday. Perhaps weÂ’ll even let you know who won the kayaking.

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Think back to your own experiences in the aeronautical realm, and you’ll realize it’s true. On every commercial flight in the United States, there’s always one hot chick. Without fail, one suitably fetching vixen will be present to “fly the friendly skies” with you, no matter whether you want one or not.

Frankly, it’s a bit like the folks who book flights—if such creatures exist these days—have planned it out this way. A sort of mental check list for each trip, perhaps: Crying baby? Check. Dimwits who must use the lavatory three times during a 12-minute flight? Check. Total babe? Check.

Maybe it’s the corollary to the “There’s one born every minute” line: There’s one gorgeous lady per flight.

One of the junior editors here at “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly”—let’s just call him “Chip”—had reason to reflect upon this whilst caught in a dank, fetid, overheated gate at the local airport. Ever the jetsetter, “Chip” would soon be off for yet another business meeting with literary bigwigs, and thus he sat in volation purgatory, awaiting the pre-boarding of his aircraft.

And, as always, in the very same waiting area sat one—count her: One—pulchritudinous gal. Although she was probably set for a trip to compel her wealthy boyfriend to pay for something obscenely expensive or other, “Chip” thought that she might very well be single.

(We know what youÂ’re thinking, dear reader: Yeah, right. Hot chicks arenÂ’t dating for the roughly two minutes in between each rich, aggressive boyfriend. But a fellow can have his dreams, canÂ’t he?)

Accordingly, and again as always, “Chip” hoped that this aesthetically pleasing lass would be assigned the seat next to his. The kind of hope that one normally offers on flights to ward off terrorists.

When the boarding began, however, it turned out that this beauteous wench sat far away from “Chip.” For some reason, “Chip” always has this kind of luck. And we mean always: After more time in the air than John Glenn, “Chip” can count all the times he’s sat next to the hot chick on no fingers.

Instead, “Chip’s” delightful companion was a kind yet obscenely obese woman. Without even putting forward an effort, this roly-poly lady took up her own seat, much of “Chip’s,” and much of the aisle, to boot. Ah, this was going to be a relaxing flight.

As if by magic, this woman—who slept through almost the entire flight—woke up exactly as the snack cart made its way to her row. After all, she can’t miss a few packs of honey-roasted peanuts, now can she?

So, rather than impress the comely vixen far away with tales of penury and “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” “Chip” found himself wedged between an outsized woman’s outsized can and the can. As Rod Stewart once warbled, some guys have all the luck.

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The front-page, above-the-fold story in the June 13 number of The New York Times shouldn’t surprise anyone who isn’t an anti-Israel propagandist; “Violence Erupts among Factions of Palestinians: Parliament Is Set Ablaze,” reads the piece’s headline. Ah: Violence in Palestine—who would have seen that coming? Not Robert Fisk, but everyone else on God’s green earth.

But the article, penned by Steven Erlanger, contains an interesting solipsism that may shed more light on matters than the Gray Lady intended. The second paragraph reads:

The attack by forces from the Fatah faction loyal to Mr. Abbas, who fired bullets at the buildings and set them on fire, came after Hamas gunmen attacked the Gaza headquarters of the Fatah-dominated security forces with rockets and grenades.

Perhaps you missed the error. As it reads now, the relative “who” can only refer to Mr. Abbas. Thus Mr. Erlanger is (unwittingly) suggesting that Palestinian leader Mahmoud Abbas personally “fired bullets at the buildings and set them on fire.”

Clearly, the Paper of Record meant “which,” referring to the “forces from the Fatah faction.” A small gaffe, perhaps, but intriguing nonetheless.

Now, let it be said that we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” don’t put it past Mr. Abbas to shoot guns and set buildings ablaze. After all, he’s the leader of a group of people not exactly known for the pacifism that so many of their American supporters pretend to champion.

Still, Mr. Abbas has curiously emerged as a kind of Palestinian Good Guy by Default. That is to say, heÂ’s hunky dory merely because heÂ’s not as murderously unhinged as the loveable scamps in Hamas.

Ah, the joys of Palestinian power struggles, according to which a fellow who wrote a dissertation devoted to Holocaust denial can be fingered as the “moderate.” Pretty nice, eh?

And this gets us—meanderingly, we’ll admit—to the intriguing quality of the Paper of Record’s mistake. Finally, as the result of a grammatical misstep, the mainstream media have put blame where blame is due.

By which we mean, they finally admit that Mr. Abbas bears some responsibility for the violence among his people. He is not—as many Palestinian apologists would have it—doing his best to rein in terrorism. As such, in some way he is personally responsible for the carnage in Israel-Palestine.

O, if only the Times could make such a useful error in the future! Perhaps theyÂ’ll actually label Hamas a terrorist organization by mistake?

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Normally, dear reader, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” are loath to take aim at comedians. After all, unimpressed readers of this “weblog” may respond: “Hey, at least the comedian you excoriate is funny, unlike you.” Or words to that effect.

As such, it is with some trepidation that we discuss the subject of today’s humble “post.” Yet we felt as if we simply had to say something about purported funnyman Carlos Mencia. We’ve seen a few episodes of his Comedy Central vehicle “Mind of Mencia,” and that’s been way too many for us. In fact, Mr. Mencia has really begun to annoy us, and we need to take him down a peg. Or two, depending on how high he’s climbed.

First, from his noxious appearances on “The Big Picture” (and small audience) with Donny Deutch, it is clear that Mr. Mencia perceives that he is something of a trailblazer. He thinks he’s a unique figure in contemporary comedy, and he can both make you laugh and make you learn.

In fact, however, Mr. Mencia seems to offer nothing but unfunny retreads of racial routines Don Rickles offered 30 years ago. Except Don Rickles is actually humorous and has more guts.

We mean, come on: How does harping on the stereotypical attributes of different racial groups amount to cutting-edge humor? The only thing older than that are knock-knock jokes, for crying out loud.

WhatÂ’s more, Mr. Mencia clearly gets a pass for making numerous derogatory references to minority groups because he himself is of Latino ancestry. He lulls the audience into enjoying negative portrayals of, say, blacks and Asians by also lampooning his own people.

And that, we think, is cheap; itÂ’s the politically correct way to be politically incorrect. In short, Mr. Mencia possesses all of Andrew Dice ClayÂ’s sophistication without any of his balls.

But what most irks us about Mr. Mencia is that he packages his stale brand of stereotype-based humor as a harbinger of racial comity. As unappealing as his “Asians have small eyes” jokes may be, Mr. Mencia advertises them as the quintessence of can’t-we-all-just-get-along multicultural bliss.

It is this, and not his unfunny Don Rickles knock-offs, that we find offensive. Sure, tell racial gags for oodles of cash, if you can get away with it. But stop pretending that thereÂ’s something high-minded about this schlock. ItÂ’s just racial humor; itÂ’s neither novel nor good-natured. You may have lots of money and success, Mr. Mencia, but letÂ’s try to remember where you are on the comedic food chain.

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As e-proprietors of a “weblog” called “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” we are naturally irked by many things. And this includes, of course, locutions; various hip words and neologisms trouble us, sometimes deeply.

For instance, there are the following: “Diversity”; “a teachable moment”; “Billy Joel.” Any sane person (read: Non-academic) should feel his skin crawl upon hearing such ugly words. (Apparently Christie Brinkley wasn’t that sane in the 80’s.)

But surely one of the most wretched and overused phrases these days comes from the mouths and keyboards of sanctimonious journalists and talking heads. We refer to the ridiculous locution “cycle of violence.”

We, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” respectfully request that this pathetic phrase be struck from all people’s vocabulary. Not only is it a deceptive little bugger, but also it is almost always used inappropriately, to discuss situations for which “cycle of violence” does not at all fit.

The other day, in fact, we saw a report in The Wall Street Journal discussing the “cycle of violence” in Iraq. This is exactly wrong. It’s employed as if the violence would immediately cease if the allied forces weren’t so bent on capturing terrorists. Ah, yes: Once America hands over Iraq to various terrorist outfits, Iraq should see true peace.

What moron would believe this? What moron would so characterize the delicate situation in Iraq? Apparently, the answer to that query is: The Wall Street Journal.

And let’s not forget the incessant use of “cycle of violence” for the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. Indeed, if the Israelis did not respond to Palestinian terrorism, the so-called “cycle of violence” would end—after the Palestinians murdered millions of Jews. Which, we suppose, is exactly what those Americans unaligned with the “Jewish Lobby” desire.

If you ask us, a better phrase for the Israeli-Palestinian situation would be “unicycle of violence”: You’ve got one people (those peaceable Palestinians) hell-bent on violence, and the violence would cease if they stopped it.

Further, we suppose we should note that the very phrase “cycle of violence” has a sickeningly condescending air to it: It’s the perfect hippie locution—both peacenik and holier-than-thou. The deluded fellow misusing the phrase gets to simmer in his own righteousness, as if he were not merely reporting the news, but offering a greater understanding of it than those dimwitted people who are foolishly trying to target terrorists.

For these reasons, dear reader, we believe that anyone employing “cycle of violence” would be better suited to ride said cycle out of American discourse. And take “diversity” with you, if you’ll be so kind.

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Like anyone with an e-mail account, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” receive all manner of so-called “spam” e-missives. Usually, these e-blights offer dubious stock tips or promise the sight of “sightly [sic] Russian teens giving spectacular bloowjob [sic].”

An unsavory bunch of messages, to be sure. As a result, we delete these e-eyesores without even troubling ourselves to look at them. After all these months on Al Gore’s Internet, the only thing we’ve learned from “spam” is that very few men appear to have working equipment these days. And those guys seem to know a lot of Russian chicks.

Even so, every once in a Harold Bloom moon, we find ourselves on the receiving end of an epistle that most surely qualifies as “spam” and yet is far more intriguing than the garden-variety advert for under-the-counter Levitra.

One such e-letter reached our “spam” file the other day, and we found it suitably curious to deserve some comment. Sent by the apocryphally named Glenda Colvon, its title reads: “Life is a sexually transmitted disease, and it’s 100% fatal.”

A strange introductory line, is it not? In fact, it seems to be in sharp contrast with a sentiment we learned from being subjected to horrid 1990s pop music: “Life is a highway; I want to ride it all night long.”

Indeed: Ms. ColvonÂ’s message is downright pessimistic by comparison. According to her, life isnÂ’t merely paying taxes and awaiting death. Nay, the whole thingÂ’s just one STD. To alter Descartes (albeit slightly): I have syphilis, therefore I am.

And what, you may reasonably ask, is the purpose of Ms. Colvon’s strange example of “spam”? Why, to sell generic Viagra.

Yep, that’s right: After informing us that we’re all just one big Magic Johnson, Glenda hits us up for some erection pills. Now, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” aren’t advertising experts; even our Official Advertising Department majored in sociology.

But, come on: YouÂ’re going to have to start with a better pitch than that to get us itching for some penis tablets. Even a picture of Janet Reno would get us more in the mood.

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As was reported throughout the “weblogosphere,” the Mu.Nu server was under attack by a group of hackers. Well, at least by one hacker. But we’re sure that he’s really e-vicious. The kind of character you wouldn’t want to meet in a dark chat room.

In these trying times, dear reader, we want to answer a few questions for our concerned fans. First, we want you to know that we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” are doing fine. No one is hurt—except Ted, and he’s been nursing that groin pull for weeks now.

Also, we must inform you that we shall not bow to the demands of these hackers, whatever those demands may be. If you ask us—and, technically speaking, you did not—going along with the wishes of such thugs tells the e-terrorists that they have won.

So, sorry, hackers. Regardless of your desperate (albeit technically adroit) attempt to silence us, we shall survive. In fact, this is one of the things that makes us so like Gloria Gaynor. Well, other than the afros.

Five days a week, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” will deliver our moronic brand of pseudo-humor, hackers be darned. It’s going to take a lot more than one server attack to knock us off of Al Gore’s World-Wide Web. (And no, unlike President Bush, we aren’t going to exhort the e-terrorists to “bring it on.” That would be unbecoming.)

We should also inform you that the attack has left us wondering about a few things. Most importantly, we are ruminating about the fact that as impressive an e-eminence as Glenn Reynolds, Al Gore’s famed Instapundit, mentioned the awful attack on his popular “weblog.”

More specifically, this led us to wonder: How can Glenn Reynolds be so darned concerned about Mu.Nu if he’s studiously—and incessantly—ignored every polite e-mail we’ve sent him about our own humble “weblog”? For over two years, dear reader, we’ve delivered a number of quaint e-missives informing Mr. Reynolds about our shenanigans on the World-Wide Web. And you can count his responses on no fingers.

Now, however, as the victims of an e-terrorist attack, Mr. Reynolds will likely be comin’ a-crawlin’ to us. He must be thinking: “How are you, crack young staff? Is everything okay?” Or words to that effect.

Well, heck no, Reynolds. We’re not giving our exclusive story of surviving e-terrorism against the odds to the likes of you. No, sir: We’re giving the scoop to this good fellow with the bejeweled, floppy hat. We know who our real friends are. How do you like ‘dem apples?

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One of the great joys of the week is reading The New Republic, our favorite reasonable left-wing rag. Or, we should say itÂ’s one of the great joys of the week or so, since its erratic appearance in our mailbox makes it impossible to determine its precise publication schedule.

And what, dear reader, isn’t to love about The New Republic? In every issue, readers can savor Peter Beinart’s typical “I’ve-read-one-article-by-a-conservative-and-didn’t-like-it” piece and Leon Wieseltier’s crabby pseudo-arguments. Also, we would be remiss if we failed to mention that fact that The New Republic has some of the worst graphic design the magazine industry has ever seen.

But, come on: ThereÂ’s some good to be found in TNR. Martin Peretz and Yossi Klein Halevi offer dependably strong pieces, and some of the best liberal commentary can be found in its pages.

Which is why, dear reader, we were appalled to read a mind-numbingly obtuse passage in the June 5 & 12 number of the magazine. In said issue, Noam Scheiber presents an interesting piece on changes in the culture of the Central Intelligence Agency, entitled “Speak Easy: The CIA Cracks its Code of Silence.”

Yet in the midst of his otherwise inoffensive article, Mr. Scheiber offers a real howler. In order to counter the charge that “the recent deluge of CIA criticism” of the Bush administration can be chalked up the ideological cast of Langley itself, Mr. Scheiber writes:

…that’s simply not the case. In fact, while the early, Ivy-dominated CIA really was a bastion of liberalism (albeit one tempered by devout anti-communism), the demographics of the Agency shifted dramatically between the late ‘60s and the late ‘70s….Increasingly, the CIA has been populated by a kind of nonideological moderate—a figure too square to be caught up in any countercultural zeitgeist, and not so ambitious as to frown on a government payscale.

So whatÂ’s Mr. ScheiberÂ’s proof for his assertion? Why, letÂ’s allow him to continue:

”I was raised by a Marine, educated by Jesuits all my life,” says [former CIA analyst Michael] Scheuer. Probably the easiest way to summarize the reigning worldview within the CIA these days is pragmatic, heavily empirical, and tending toward foreign policy realism.

Aha: So the fact that Michael Scheuer was educated by Jesuits amounts to the entirety of Noam ScheiberÂ’s proof. This is as dumb as dumb can get.

Perhaps Mr. Scheiber should become more acquainted with the maniacal ravings of Michael Scheuer—his poster boy for the non-ideological CIA.

As we never tire of repeating, Mr. Scheuer, terrorism analyst for CBS News and author of the misguided polemic Imperial Hubris, is a lunatic whose writings positively reek of ideology. Mr. Scheuer has praised Osama bin Laden as possessing “admirable character traits,” and believes that only American foreign policy and Israel’s existence are to blame for Islamofascist terrorism.

Need we remind Mr. Scheiber that Michael Scheuer infamously claimed that the American Holocaust Museum is an example of insidious Zionist propaganda? Come on, Mr. Scheiber.

Michael Scheuer is many things—for example, a myopic former analyst with anti-Semitic leanings and a creepy crush on Osama bin Laden. But he is most assuredly not a non-ideological moderate, no matter how many years of Jesuit training he experienced. You would have thought that the pro-Israel New Republic would have recognized that.

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Okay, hereÂ’s something thatÂ’s ticked us off for a long time. Every few weeks, it seems, the media get all worked up about another hot middle-school teacher whoÂ’s screwing her fourteen-year-old student. For some reason or other, this gorgeous female pedagogue simply loves her little adolescent; sheÂ’s never met anyone who rocks her world quite like this worldly teenager.

What gives? If you ask us, this whole situation makes no sense. WhatÂ’s more, it is downright enraging.

And this is not, mind you, merely a male point of view. As longtime readers of this humble “weblog” well know, around 47 percent of the crack young staff is female, and the distaff staffers are equally miffed that these attractive lasses go for the inappropriately underaged.

It’s just bizarre. As much as contemporary feminists hate to admit it, good-looking women are treated like royalty in this country. In fact, that’s why other women become contemporary feminists: They yearn to get back at men for considering them less-than-comely. If you ask us, we inhabit a matriarchy—a matriarchy run by the young and attractive.

Accordingly, hot schoolteachers cavorting with lilÂ’ kiddies is mind-boggling. Who in his (or her) right mind would suggest that such vixens couldnÂ’t find suitable dating partners? Most women with one leg and a kickstand can find some doting slob, for crying out loud.

So why are these femme fatales troubling themselves with such jailbait? If our estimation of women is correct, these fetching lasses should be hunting down a disgustingly wealthy husband, so that she can divorce him and take all his money before her looks start to fade.

But we didn’t compose this “post” merely to offer the typical ruminations of skeptical guys and unappealing women. (Although, as you can see, that was part of the point.) Rather, we have a proposition to make.

If you, dear reader, are a hot middle school or high school teacher about to begin a relationship with one of your pupils, we humbly suggest that head over to the HatemongerÂ’s Quarterly Headquarters and date one of the crack young staffers instead. Admittedly, itÂ’s not necessarily a very appetizing option: All of the male staffers are bald and all of the females are grad students, and therefore ugly: QED.

But think of all the benefits. From nearly a minute of brainstorming, we came up with the following list of impressive perquisites:

The Official List of Perquisites for Hot Middle-School Teachers Dating Crack Young Staffers Instead of Their Teen-Aged Pupils:

1) You wonÂ’t be arrested.

2) Bill OÂ’Reilly wonÂ’t devote a segment of his television program to making ego-withering commentary about you.

3) You can have conversations with your significant other that go past the level of “Yeah, Coldplay is totally pimp.”

4) Being seen in public with your new date is at least slightly less embarrassing.

5) After dinner out on the town, you can go to his place or yours.

Admittedly, dear reader, dating a crack young staffer—unlike dating your twelve-year-old student—isn’t going to land you a spot on “Larry King Live.” But who under 145 watches that show?

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Recently, one of the junior editors here at “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly”—let’s just call him “Chip”—browsed through the latest number of The New York Times, in search of all the news that’s fit to mangle. Searching in the beloved arts section of the May 22 issue of the Gray Lady, among pieces with titles such as “Dystopia, Windows, Da Vinci and Sex,” he happened upon a curious advertisement.

As you might well imagine, “Chip” doesn’t take the Paper of Record’s art section very seriously. For every discussion of, say, James Levine, one finds three on, say, Eminem. Or five on how one illiterate rock star is superior to another illiterate rock star.

And then thereÂ’s the matter of their whitewashing of the Danish Muhammad cartoons: The Gray LadyÂ’s arts section can print all manner of desecrations of Jesus, but depictions of Muhammad are apparently beyond the pale. According to some experts, the Times offers the perfect blend of pusillanimity and political correctness.

Yet the ad in question struck us as sufficiently interesting that it stuck out even amongst the usual detritus that besmirches the arts columns.

The advert in question reads as follows:

HOUGHTON MIFFLIN CONGRATULATES

PHILIP ROTH

on receiving the 2006 PEN/Nabakov Award

for a “body of work…of enduring originality and consummate craftsmanship.”

Taking in this ad, “Chip” first thought: Oh, Philip Roth has won a lifetime literary award. Isn’t that nice. Although his latest novel is supposed to be a clunker, Portnoy’s Complaint was quite good. And, hey: At least the award didn’t go to some left-wing politicized hack or Italian terrorist. Take that, Toni Morrison.

Then a very obvious realization struck “Chip.” Houghton Mifflin isn’t really congratulating Philip Roth. After all, if they wanted to offer him some kind words, there’s no reason why they couldn’t just send him a letter. They’re his publisher, for crying out loud. They must have his telephone number somewhere.

Rather—and rather obviously—Houghton Mifflin is congratulating itself and attempting to drum up some book sales by pretending to congratulate Philip Roth. This isn’t exactly a surprising thing to do, but it struck “Chip” as so smarmy that it made him wonder. How can Houghton Mifflin get away with such an obvious demonstration of bad faith?

We mean, come on: Whom does Houghton Mifflin think theyÂ’re fooling? Who would actually believe that they have eschewed their normal concern for advertising and spent a bundle on a selfless demonstration of congratulations to Philip Roth? TheyÂ’d applaud the doofus who wrote The Devil Wears Prada, or some other piece of chick-lit palaver, if it would help their bottom line.

It is in a similar spirit, then, that we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” present our own latest advertisement:

THE CRACK YOUNG STAFF OF “THE HATEMONGER’S QUARTERLY” HEARTILY CONGRATULATES

"CHIP" , Senior Editor of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly”

for realizing that Houghton MifflinÂ’s hearty congratulations is a phony attempt to boost sales, and that they donÂ’t really care if Philip Roth writes impressive novels of intellectual depth and clarity or child pornography.

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Imagine the following hypothetical scenario, dear reader. Numerous groups of Mexican terrorists—whom the mainstream media deem “militants”—routinely fire rockets into the southern United States as part of an effort to de-legitimize Texas and compel Americans to give the second-largest state back to Mexico. The Mexican government, meanwhile, is in league with these terrorists, and thus won’t stop them.

Now, here’s the question: Exactly how long would it take the United States to put a stop to this? In how many minutes would the US Army take to northern Mexico to kill and/or capture these brutes? If you ask us, the answer is: Faster than you can say “burrito.”

In addition, we firmly believe that no one in his right mind would consider a targeted strike at such hypothetical Mexican terrorists tantamount to “aggression.” But, naturally, no one in his right mind believes that the lovable scamps in Hamas are in their right mind.

For, as we found out from our pals at The New York Times a scenario somewhat similar to our silly Mexican terrorist idea is occurring in the Gaza Strip. You remember the Gaza Strip: ItÂ’s the part of the Palestinian territories that Israel has returned to the Palestinians, even though Arab propagandists still call it part of the Occupied Territories.

And, as you would expect from those peaceable Palestinians, the inhabitants of Gaza, in addition to engaging in various acts of proto-civil war, regularly launch rockets into Israel in an effort to destroy the Jewish state. Those delightful characters in Professor Sami Al-ArianÂ’s Palestinian Islamic Jihad enjoy using their newly won territory as a base to wipe Israel off the map.

Naturally, the folks in Hamas wonÂ’t put a stop to such machinations. As a result, Greg Myre from the Gray Lady reports:

Israeli ground troops staged their first major operation inside the Gaza Strip since pulling out of the coastal territory last year, ambushing Palestinians late Monday evening as they prepared to fire a rocket, the Israeli military said Tuesday.

So what, you might be wondering, was the reaction of the fellahs in charge of Palestine? Here’s what Andrew Sullivan—in his “weblogging” life and his personal life—would call the “money shot”:

The Palestinian prime minister, Ismail Haniya, condemned “the Israeli policy of aggression against our people.”

Gee: That takes an awful lot of chutzpah, if you ask us. How dare the Israelis stop rockets from killing their people! Why, the nerve of them!

In fact, this argument is so appalling, we sincerely wonder if Prime Minister Haniya could offer it with a straight face. Sure, itÂ’s part of an old Palestinian script: Whatever evil thing you have done, blame America and Israel.

But, God, how could he condemn Israel’s action as “aggression” without cracking a smile?

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Readers of this humble “weblog” may well have noticed that we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” have not discussed the recent political firestorm surrounding illegal immigration. In itself, this is odd: We’re not the types of folk who shy away from hard-hitting issues. Why, we’ve even tackled such incendiary topics as the word “moist.”

Yet, to be honest, dear reader, we havenÂ’t felt particularly inspired to dilate on illegal immigration. We suppose we donÂ’t feel very strongly about it, and informal polling around the office water cooler suggests that most of us find ourselves in the squishy middle on this issue.

And yet a recent article on illegal immigration in the May 1 number of Britain’s left-leaning New Statesman got us sufficiently worked up, and we feel we must take a poke at the subject. Penned by one Andrew Stephen—whose name reads like a rather uninspired porn star’s nom de guerre—the article is curiously titled “The Latino Giant Awakes.”

The Latino Giant? Has Mr. Stephen (or is that Mr. Andrew?) ever seen any Latinos? TheyÂ’re not exactly known for their gigantic size.

Anyway, the sub-header of the article pretty much sums up its author’s modus scribendi: “The new political and economic power of Hispanic immigrants is fuelling an ugly mood of racism in America, where ‘illegals’ are accused of taking healthcare, jobs and housing.”

We particularly savored the use of scare-quotes around the word illegals, as if it were merely a meaningless term. Mr. Stephen explains: “…there is an ugly mood of racism sweeping this country in which the casually brutal word ‘illegal’ is used as a noun, even by the most enlightened, to describe fellow human beings who live and work here but do not have the documentation to do so legally.”

Uh, gee, Mr. Enlightened: What do you propose we call those who live here illegally? What kind of politically-correct moniker can you drum up? How about “citizenally challenged”? Or how does “differently citizened” grab you? You stupid dolt.

Basically, Mr. Stephen uses the issue of illegal immigration to demonstrate that America is a country chock-a-block with racists. More to the point, Mr. Stephen opines that America’s treatment of the “citizenally challenged” is far worse than anything the Brits would concoct.

According to Mr. Stephen: “Nor is there any good reason why America cannot take a limitless number of…immigrants for the foreseeable future: it is a land so huge that there are still only 30 people on average living in each square kilometre, compared with 243 for (say) Britain.” Ah, you see: Americans are odious racists, and the Limeys are not.

We hate to ruin Mr. StephenÂ’s well thought out people-per-square-kilometer thesis, but we have the sneaking suspicion that the issue of illegal immigration is a bit more complicated than the number of people you can fit in rural Idaho. ThereÂ’s this little matter of the economy, Mr. Stephen, and although New Statesman leftists such as yourself donÂ’t know much about it, it winds up being kind of important.

Anyone with a modicum of economic sense wouldn’t write this sentence, Mr. Stephen: “Illegal workers, after all, are needed to do jobs that Americans spurn: housecleaning, fruit-picking, and looking after rich white brats.” No, no, Mr. Stephen: Americans don’t want to do these jobs at ridiculously low wages. If the pay increased, US citizens would be glad to do them.

But, hey, Mr. Stephen, you must be really proud of using a left-wing platform to advance the interests of corporate fat-cats whoÂ’ll pay your beloved illegals starvation wages.

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Back in the Clinton years, many a left-winger could be found wagging his finger about the purportedly puritanical peevishness of American conservatives. After all, our liberal friends announced, the Europeans have a far more enlightened attitude toward sexual matters. If we were in France, shagging an intern would offer a healthy boost to your popularity.

According to numerous lefties, then, Americans needed to loosen up and act more likeÂ…the Germans. And, for some odd reason, they believed that this made some sense.

In fact, you can still feel the reverberations of this lefty-wing American Europhilia: On darn near every social issue, liberals in the USA hope our country will move closer to the positions of Western Europe. Euthanasia whether you want it or not; homosexual polygamy; state-sponsored illicit druggery—these are the things that make an American lefty pine to be a European.

Even so, we couldn’t help but notice that some things about our pals across the pond leave much to be desired. And, no, we’re not talking about hygiene. Rather, we mean more nugatory matters. For instance—and we may be wrong about this—it appears to our untrained eyes that there’s a bit of an immigration problem in Europe.

More to the point, it seems as if the Europeans can’t capitulate to the Islamofascists fast enough. If the population prognostications about Europe are to be believed—e.g., 18,000 Somalis born in the UK for every one Caucasian—it will be about three years until Paris is renamed New Medina. (Or maybe, in an homage to Tone Loc, Funky Cold Medina.)

We, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” hate to burst Europhiles’ bubbles even more, but a recent report from Reuters that crossed our desks leaves us with the impression that Western Europeans may not be the best role models for our left-wing friends.

The title of the article gets to the heart of the matter: “Pedophiles to launch political party.” Curious, isn’t it? Reuters comes right out and uses the P-word; apparently, it’s okay to call people pedophiles. Why not use a more neutral locution—like “militants”?

Anyway, hereÂ’s the delicious start of the report:

Dutch pedophiles are launching a political party to push for a cut in the legal age for sexual relations to 12 from 16 and the legalization of child pornography and sex with animals, sparking wide outrage.

The Charity, Freedom and Diversity (NVD) party said on its Web site it would be officially registered Wednesday, proclaiming “We are going to shake The Hague awake!”

The party said it wanted to cut the legal age for sexual relations to 12 and eventually scrap the limit altogether.

“A ban just makes children curious,” Ad van den Berg, one of the party’s founders, told the Algemeen Dagblad (AD) newspaper….

“We want to get into parliament so we have a voice. Other politicians only talk about us in a negative sense, as if we were criminals,” Van den Berg told Reuters.

Oh, this is simply heavenly! We hope our countryÂ’s enlightened Europhiles have a brilliant explanation for this.

We savored the new partyÂ’s name: Charity, Freedom and Diversity. Clearly Mr. van den Berg and his minions have learned a thing or two from the vacuous doublespeak of American multiculturalists.

But perhaps the end of the Reuters piece offers the greatest delight:

The party also said everybody should be allowed to go naked in public and promotes legalizing all soft and hard drugs and free train travel for all.

We know what you are thinking, dear reader: Free train travel? Are these people nuts?

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As you might well expect, dear reader, this humble “website” has myriad fans. Accordingly, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” receive a variety of delightful e-missives from all kinds of e-boosters.

Why, just recently, for example, we happened upon a particularly cheery e-epistle in the old in-box, which came with the subject line: “Who cares what you think.” As you might imagine, we were filled with joy to get such a letter—naturally, if this fellow doesn’t care what we think, we sure care a whole heck of a lot about his cogitations.

Below we have affixed the entire contents of this e-mail, which was sent from the e-address mlashguard-ca@yahoo.com:

Stumbled upon your lame blog by accident whilst searching for a site to give praise and thanks to Jean Sara Rohe. Just wanted to let you know that JEAN SARA ROHE ROCKS!! Not going to engage in argument with you. Why, because I don't value you nor your opinions. Btw: Always knew you people are "hate mongers".

[Turning my back on you]

Of all the varieties of virtues, liberalism is the most beloved. ----Aristotle

Yep, that’s the entire contents of this charming missive. As those of you who keep up with our humble ‘weblog” religiously well know, it pertains to our demolition of the doofus Jean Sara Rohe. Clearly, the letter was sent by a complete boob, and we hardly know where to begin. (Incidentally, we assume that a male male composed it, although we’ve been incorrect about such a supposition before.)

Perhaps we most savored the quotation from Aristotle. As it lacks a specific textual reference, we couldnÂ’t track down the Greek and piece together an adequate translation. Even so, the nincompoop who sent us this epistle doesnÂ’t appear to realize that liberalism in the contemporary Democratic Party sense is not what Mr. Aristotle likely had in mind. It turns out that he actually antedates todayÂ’s US liberals by some time.

We must also say that we found it hilarious that this fellow seems to have desired to get in a cheap shot at us, but then informs us that he doesnÂ’t want us to reply. Ah, yes: How much nicer it is to argue with someone when you can stop the argument whenever you want.

Further, may we humbly suggest that this petulant dope does “value our opinions”? If he did not, we think he wouldn’t have troubled himself to respond our “post.”

But let us not engage in a moronic tit-for-tat with this knuckle-dragging imbecile. In regard to the pathetic Jean Sara Rohe, there isnÂ’t much to argue.

We think it’s in bad manners to excoriate a graduation speaker—any graduation speaker—in front of his face and a large audience. We think it is classless to do so. There are plenty of other forums through which one may show disagreement, and this isn’t an appropriate one. We also believe that Jean Sara Rohe, by speaking to a crowd overwhelmingly in favor of her opinions, did not demonstrate courage; rather, she is an ill-mannered ass.

The author of this e-missive disagrees. Presumably, he would favor student speakers who ripped into all kinds of left-wing graduation speakers. If not, of course, he is a hypocrite. Which, naturally, is quite a charge, in addition to being a barely-literate ass.

But, hey: We have to hand it to him. He thinks that the ill-mannered Jean Sara Rohe is a hero, and he himself is ill-mannered. So we have to give him points for consistency there.

So, in the spirit of warmth that is “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” let us simply say that we value mlashguard-ca@yahoo.com. And we don’t turn our backs on him, either. Moreover, we value his opinions. Clearly, it has taken nanoseconds of education to fire off this dimwitted e-epistle, and that alone ought to invite our attention.

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Someone famous or other once said that madness was doing the exact same thing over and over again and expecting different results. Or something like that. If you ask us, this means that The New York Times, in offering its unsolicited advice to President Bush and Israel, presents a quintessential display of madness.

Don’t believe us? Well, one need only gander at their staff editorial “A Viable Palestinian State,” which appeared in the May 25 number of the paper. For starters, check out this annoying line:

…Mr. Bush should not punish the Palestinian people by endorsing any unilateral proposal—doing that would punish them for exercising their democratic right to vote.

Oh, for the love of all that is holy. How many times must we repeat this? When polities vote, they make choices. If other polities donÂ’t like these choices, they may legitimately respond to the outcomes in a variety of ways. This is not related to threatening democracy per se.

For instance, if (say) Germany voted for another Hitler, and this Hitler started a war, we think the US would be duty bound to stop this guy. We suppose the Times might say, if it were to be consistent, “The USA should not punish the German people by endorsing any unilateral policy of war—doing that would punish them for exercising their democratic right to vote.”

Obviously, this is complete insanity. Thus, just because the Palestinians vote for fanatical terrorists, this does not mean that they should suffer no repercussions for doing so. CanÂ’t someone inform the knuckle-dragging idiots at the Paper of Record of the dimwittedness of their argument?

Apparently not. For, as the “Viable Palestinian State” editorial continues, it becomes crystal clear that the Times rejects a unilateral Israeli withdrawal from the West Bank because it does not allow the Palestinians to “have a say in creating a state that can function.”

And thereÂ’s the crazy part: After umpteen Palestinian rejections of peace offerings, after incessant Palestinian intransigence and violence, the morons at The New York Times want President Bush and Israel to try the exact same thing over again. That is to say, they believe that doing the exact same thing can lead to different results.

ItÂ’s idiocy of this magnitude that nearly makes us pine for the good old days of Jayson Blair. Hey: At least he knew he was a fraud.

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