Well, dear reader, it’s certainly true that we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” have been a bit silent of late. In fact, it has been, as our ancestors used to say, many moons since last we graced you with one of our glorious animadversions. Regular reader(s) of our fine musings must have been quite depressed.

But no longer. No, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” have officially broken our long e-silence to comment on recent matters of great historical import.

No, we donÂ’t mean to dilate on President ObamaÂ’s Hand-Wringing Apology Tour. Sure, our current Spendthrift-in-Chief is doing his level-best to support various odious regimes worldwide, but we donÂ’t want to mention that right now. Nor, we should add, do we aim to discuss the nomination of an ever-redundant wise Latina woman to the hallowed Supreme Court. And frankly, as a passel of white men with similar experiences, our opinion on Ms. Sotomayor is pretty much moot. Let us just say that Ms. SotomayorÂ’s nomination has made us think twice about careers in firefighting in New Haven, CT.

Instead, dear reader, we have departed from our long-term silence to pontificate about the recent and unfortunate demise of the so-called King of Pop, Michael Jackson. We know, we know: We must be the only ones discussing it.

Let us say from the start that we never particularly fancied Mr. JacksonÂ’s music. We donÂ’t mean to be downers, but weÂ’ve always preferred the vocal work of Tuvan throat singers. And Rosanne Barr. To each his own.

Still, we hope that Mr. Jackson rests in peace. He obviously made millions upon millions of people happy, and that is no mean accomplishment.

The same, however, cannot be said of the incessant media coverage that has accompanied Mr. JacksonÂ’s premature demise. Every Tom, Dick, and Al Sharpton has been on the airwaves of late, offering his un-pearls of un-wisdom on the death of Mr. Jackson.

Along with this, of course, has come endless prattle about oddities associated with Mr. Jackson that everyone already knew. You say that Mr. Jackson was accused of child molestation? Wow: We had no idea! You tell us that Mr. Jackson endured frequent bouts of plastic surgery? Gee, whiz: Why hadnÂ’t anyone told us about that before?

Perhaps the most annoying theme in the wall-to-wall coverage is the shock—shock, mind you—accompanying revelations that Mr. Jackson may have taken various drugs that hastened, if not caused, his death. For some reason, our television gasbags have touted this as an earth-shattering revelation.

Michael Jackson was surrounded by yes-men who would happily obtain illegal substances for him? Well, color us startled. Next youÂ’ll tell us that Robert Downey Jr. has a bit of a drug problem himself.

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Cue the mindless pseudo-humanitarians: The loveable scamps who collectively go by the name Hamas have finally gotten the Israeli government’s dander up and, as every sentient being well knows, are currently experiencing the slings and arrows of outrageous self-defense. As it turns out, those stingy residents of the “Zionist entity” don’t take too kindly to thousands of rockets launched at their civilians. Who would have thunk it?

Not, as it turns out, the typical cavalcade of useless idiots currently nattering on about Israeli “atrocities.” Yes, yes: Any time the Israelis take the trouble to defend themselves, and the familiar lunatics begin upbraiding them. As such, we’d wager that your daily paper currently features a few dimwitted missives to the editor chastising the Jewish state for its machinations and lamenting that—horror of horrors—the United States offers military assistance to beleaguered Israel. (For some reason, they’re none too worried about the cash Uncle Sam sends to, say, Egypt. Yep: That Mubarak fellow is a tried-and-true pro-American democrat.)

Normally, the anti-Israel ravings that besmirch your local daily are held by a moronic suburbanite who knows next-to-nothing about foreign policy. Their authors are the sorts of people who claim to despise war, though they more accurately contemn Western governmentsÂ’ reactions to terrorist provocations. Hamas can attempt to kill and maim Israelis en masse, but, to these knuckle-dragging buffoons, war doesnÂ’t start until the Jewish state responds. Palestinian rockets, we suppose, are filled with gumdrops and happiness.

Why is it that America seems to be chock-a-block with nitwits of the “Can’t We Just Fail to Respond to Violence and Call it Peace” school of political sanctimony? Some would argue that it’s because our nation’s newspapers simply drip with these sorts of sentiments. But we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” know better: Most Americans are well nigh functionally illiterate, so we doubt that armies of idiots are taking their cues from Maureen Dowd.

As if these sorts of anti-Israel choruses weren’t suitably obtuse, we must often watch them reach untold zeniths of ridiculousness with each passing day. Our current favorite appears on less respectable “websites”: Far-left outfits and professors’ “weblogs,” for instance. We’re sure you’ve seen it: The dubious link of any Israeli response to Nazi atrocities.

Ah, yes, that’s the ticket. Israel is just like Nazi Germany! Yes, yes: We’ve never seen a more apt historical analogy in our young lives. Thus the “genocide” of the Palestinians is occurring at such a break-neck pace that the Arabs hope soon to be able to dismantle the Jewish state by demographics alone. That’s when you know you’ve got a successful “genocide” brewing: When the victims of said atrocities are vastly out-breeding you.

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For those of you unaware of recent international events (read: Americans), we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” must inform you that a horrible group of terrorist attacks just took place in Mumbai, India. As of this writing, over 100 people have been killed by jihad-inspired militants.

If you’re anything like us, dear reader, you’re probably thinking: Who would ever think that Muslims would carry out such atrocities? We know, we know—sometimes really strange things happen on God’s green (and increasingly warming) earth. As it turns out, some Muslims are a bit angry. Enraged, you might say. That’s news to us.

But before we start pointing fingers at a few nasty practitioners of the Religion of Peace, let us give thanks for one thing—Saint Barack will soon inhabit the White House. Oh, huzzah, huzzah: Soon all shall be well.

We mean, come on: Someone has to give these Indian jihadis a talking-to. Like Lucille Ball, they’ve sure got some ‘splainin’ to do.

Thankfully, these here United States of America will soon have as its leader a man thoroughly willing to talk to anyone without preconditions. And that includes, we hope, a handful of nasty jihadist dead-enders, if any of these brutes survive the aftermath of the attacks.

WouldnÂ’t you just love to be a fly on the wall when President Obama finishes his conversation with these misguided folks? Boy, theyÂ’ll feel awfully foolish, wonÂ’t they?

We can just see it now: A miserable pack of miserable Pakistani Islamists muttering to themselves: “What were we thinking? President Obama was totally correct: Terrorism is never going to bring us closer together.”

If weÂ’re lucky, dear reader, Saint Obama (D-Mainstream Media) will cut short his colloquy with Raul Castro to have a heart-to-heart with these odious militants. ThereÂ’s nothing the fancy-talking B. H. Obama canÂ’t accomplish. And, we should add, heÂ’s downright sexy too.

By the time heÂ’s done with them, theyÂ’ll fully recognize the errors of their ways, and theyÂ’ll soon be donating money to gay marriage proponents worldwide.

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Since last we wrote in this space, dear reader, a fellow by the name of Barack H. Obama (D-Hope and Change) won the election for the next president of these here United States. And we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” couldn’t be any happier. Like various level-headed folks around this great country of ours, we’re simply euphoric. Our collective voice is still hoarse from our stentorian cheering.

We mean, come on: WeÂ’ve barely survived the Fascist Police State known as the Bush Administration, and now we find out that we shall spend the next four years under the august stewardship of the august Sen. Obama. Oh, joy of joys!

Finally, America will be a complete paragon of virtue. No longer will it be sullied by the odious Bushies and their disgraceful associates. You know: Tony Reszko, Rev. Jeremiah Wright, William Ayers—those kind of folks.

Nope, as our Obama supporting pals correctly note, soon all will be perfect in the United States. HeÂ’s not even spent a minute in office, and already we feel like handing Barack Obama a Nobel Peace Prize. Or perhaps an award with a less dubious history.

Yes, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” can’t wait until the Anointed One officially assumes the presidency and quickly solves all the world’s problems. For this bright, articulate, sexy man, it should prove particularly easy to lead us to utopia. Yes, he can.

ItÂ’s so obvious: Barack H. Obama will fix everything, from our current financial woes to athletesÂ’ foot. Not for nothing does this delightful president-in-waiting possess the same middle initial as Jesus H. Christ. HeÂ’s just that good.

Given the unsurpassable goodness of Barack Obama, the only reasonable concerns about his upcoming administration run something like this: Which horrendously vexing crisis will President Obama first solve? What nasty disease will he first cure? What intractable conflict will he first end?

Our guess: Within the first three seconds of his term, President Obama will cure both AIDS and cancer. The former will be a snap, since, as Mr. ObamaÂ’s longtime pastor and spiritual mentor has reasonably assured us, HIV is just some nasty white conspiracy anyway.

Next Saint Barack will turn to the simple matter of Middle East peace, which weÂ’d reckon heÂ’ll solve within his first few days at the helm. After all, once he shuns the nefarious Jewish Lobby and turns his ears toward calmer heads, such as that of Rashid Khalidi, peace will be upon us faster than you can say Edward Said.

The hasty conclusion to that trifling matter will free up time for President Obama to end global hunger. Which, for a man of his talents, should take our new Genius-in-Chief about three minutes.

And Sen. Obama will do all these things, dear reader, without ever stooping to wire-tapping, waffling, or any other Bush-era evils. Nope: Now that weÂ’ve elected a completely perfect specimen of humanity, we can just sit back and wait for the golden age to return.

In the meantime, perhaps someone could start carving Sen. ObamaÂ’s likeness onto Mt. Rushmore? You know, next to Lincoln, or one of the other comparative presidential flops whose lily-white faces adorn that monument.

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Well, color us surprised. It has, dear reader, been quite a campaign season, chock-a-block with all sorts of unexpected twists and turns.

For instance, Mike Gravel (D-Insane Asylum) didnÂ’t win his partyÂ’s nomination. Neither, alas, did Dennis Kucinich (D-Vegan), whose elfin good looks virtually assured him an impressive victory.

And now, as if these previous eventualities were insufficiently amazing, we hear word that Gen. Colon Powell (ret.) may endorse Barack Obama for president of these here United States.

Oh, we simply can’t wait until Gen. Powell shows up on “Meet the Press” with Tim Russert manqué. We’ll say it again: Color us surprised.

We mean, come on: How much bigger a news story can you get? This is Colin Powell, for crying out loud. Not John Kerry, Howard Dean, or some other manifest failure.

ItÂ’s not as if weÂ’re talking about some fellow who, despite his affiliation with the Republican Party, has a history of conflict and disagreement with the Bush administration, which he left in a huff. As we all know, Gen. Powell was a big believer in the liberation of Iraq, who had nary a qualm with the removal of Saddam Hussein.

Geeze: No wonder MSNBC has taken a break from broadcasting one of its sundry infomercials for Barack Obama to whip up excitement for Gen. PowellÂ’s guest spot tomorrow. Surely itÂ’s just a coincidence that the former Secretary of State will deliver his pro-Obama hosannas on MSNBCÂ’s parent network.

Boy, oh, boy—this is sure going to sink the McCain campaign. We’d like to think that Sen. Obama is already picking out drapes for the oval office. And hopefully Sen. Biden has begun to track down the closest 7-11 to the White House, so that he can order some Indian food for his long days on the job.

After all, if this ainÂ’t a nail in the coffin, what is? Colin Powell is poised to endorse Barack Obama. And, try as we might, we canÂ’t think of any reason why Gen. Powell, a prominent supporter of affirmative action, would do such a thing. Absolutely nothing comes to mind.

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Like everyone else on God’s green earth, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” were surprised that Sen. McCain chose Sarah Palin, the Republican governor of Alaska, as his vice-presidential running mate. We say this, dear reader, because Gov. Palin doesn’t have much political experience.

Still, we are willing to give Gov. Palin a chance, if only to anger our Democratic friends, who have already whipped themselves up into a Dan Quayle lather. At something called CNN.com, for instance, a scarecrow named Paul Begala (is “Begala” Old Norse for “Quick, Give Me a Paper Bag”?) has pronounced John McCain insane: How could he put such an inexperienced hack a heartbeat away from the presidency?

To which the proper response is: Uh, Mr. Begala, you want the inexperienced Barack Obama to be no heartbeats away from the presidency, though he has spent a few measly and generally unproductive years in the Senate. If youÂ’ll pardon the reference under the circumstances, have you ever seen a pot call a kettle black?

But Mr. Begala’s pseudo-journalistic Democratic boosterism isn’t the only example of hasty, pathetic left-wing attacks on the comparatively unknown Gov. Palin. For a treasure trove of cant, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” headed to—where else?—the ole’ Huffington Post, Arianna Huffington’s e-orgy of self-puffery.

Ah, and what enlightenment we found! Some obstreperous hack called Greg Mitchell fumed that Sen. Kay Bailey Hutchinson (R-Texas)Â…doesnÂ’t know much about Gov. Palin! Oh, boy! Oh, dear!

We donÂ’t know about you, dear reader, but we simply canÂ’t vote for someone for public office if she doesnÂ’t pass the Kay Bailey Hutchinson Recognition Test. If Sen. Hutchinson doesnÂ’t know her, sheÂ’s simply out of bounds.

And weÂ’re sure that the gorgeous Mr. Mitchell feels the same way. After all, he wouldnÂ’t stoop to mentioning Sen. HutchinsonÂ’s unfamiliarity with Gov. Palin merely to score a cheap political point, would he?

Naw: As a Huffy Po regular, he must wait Sen. HutchinsonÂ’s political announcements with eager expectation. And vote accordingly.

Otherwise, heÂ’s just a grandstanding boob.

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Barack Obama, the presumptive Democratic contender for president of these here United States of America, is—as he never tires of telling us—a post-racial candidate. Yes, Sen. Obama (D-Bromides), though a man of mixed racial origins, hopes to transcend race in his campaign for this land’s highest office.

And what, you may reasonably ask, makes up Sen. ObamaÂ’s post-racial politics? Why, crying racism at every turn, it appears. Ah: How very novel. What a nice change from the divisive rhetoric of Al Sharpton and Jesse Jackson, whoÂ…cry racism at every turn.

We noted this, dear reader, as a result of Sen. ObamaÂ’s erstwhile remarks regarding the physical dissimilarities between himself and the US presidents whose faces adorn American paper currency. Yes, yes, yes: Sen. Obama doesnÂ’t resemble George Washington in the least, and the evil Republicans will surely make the most of that factoid.

We donÂ’t know about you, but the mere thought of Sen. ObamaÂ’s dramatic un-resemblance to Abraham Lincoln positively compels us to shudder. Thank God John McCain looks exactly like President Lincoln.

As dubious as all this is, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” have detected even more “post-partisan” race-baiting from our Obama-supporting pals. One friend—whom we won’t name, but merely call “Ted Santos”—informed us that the Republicans’ harping on Sen. Obama’s ambitiousness positively reeks of white disdain for uppity blacks.

To which we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” respond: Uh, come again? What? Since when did lame cries of racism not even make rudimentary sense?

It seems clear to us, then, that Sen. Obama’s supporters—along with the Senator himself—hope to guard the Democratic nominee from all criticisms by labeling each and every critique an insidious racist plot. After all, it worked with Hillary; why shouldn’t it work again?

A problem remains, however. How, dear reader, can one twist all criticism of Barack Obama into racist skullduggery?

Oh, but that’s where we come in. The Official Crying Wolf Department here at “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly” has come up with a few rudimentary racially charged answers to potential McCain retorts. If you support Barack Obama’s “post-partisan” race-baiting, you’re going to want to memorize these responses.

The Obama-SupporterÂ’s Guide to Post-Partisan Race-Baiting

1) Criticism: Barack Obama was wrong about the US troop “surge” in Iraq. Even now, he claims to oppose the “surge,” though he also believes that it was responsible for progress in the country. This is nonsensical at best.

Proper Response: You hate black people.

2) Criticism: Barack Obama lacks any substantive energy policy. At this perilous time in our nationÂ’s history, this is highly problematic.

Proper Response: By “energy,” you clearly mean “white ancestors,” you despicable racist.

3) Criticism: Barack ObamaÂ’s statements on foreign policy are a muddle, and demonstrate the candidateÂ’s appalling inexperience.

Proper Response: This is an age-old “Bull” Connor trick: By highlighting Obama’s “inexperience,” you are—insidiously—arguing that any black man lacks the intelligence to be president of the United States.

4) Criticism: Although claiming to be a “post-partisan” candidate, Barack Obama is really an un-reconstructed paleo-liberal, who dresses up his Mondale era politics in the rhetorical cloak of moderation.

Proper Response: Rhetorical cloak? Sounds like the Ku Klux Klan to me.

5) Criticism: Although, heÂ’s a true tax-and-spender, in regard to funding our troops, Barack Obama has been extremely niggardly.

Proper Response: Uh, did you just use the N-word? I rest my case.

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Okay: Here's something that really, really annoys us. We mean really gets our dander up. It's almost galactically irksome, in fact. We speak, naturally, of idiots incapable of understanding elevator etiquette.

For some reason, dear reader, there number is legion. It's as if demonstration of proper escalator technique were as rare as a bald eagle. Or the crown jewels. Or a feminist with a sense of humor.

We mean, come on: How difficult is it to understand the proper use of the noble escalator? Why do so many people seem so darned clueless about it?

If any of our readers are, as the politically correct folks say, developmentally retarded when it comes to the escalator, allow us to offer you the unofficial rules. Those standing still on the escalator should stay on its right side. Those walking should pass on the left.

That's it. No stick shift. No U-turns. No coughing and turning your head to one side.

How unremittingly simple! How undeniably effective!

And yet sundry morons throughout this great nation (and elsewhere, we'd wager) have somehow managed to eschew elevator etiquette. If you ask us, we think it ought to be taught in school, instead of sex education. After all, failure to heed elevator decorum is a far weightier problem in this country than teenage pregnancy. Although we'd wager that somehow there's a link between the two. (Ever seen a pregnant 13-year-old on an escalator? We rest our case.)

The typical escalator moron seems to be a fellow in his late teens, who's too busy attempting to impress a prospective girlfriend to trouble himself with any regard for others. Standing on the escalator's left side, he's gleefully chatting up some useless bimbo, discussing the finer points of the aural detritus typically known as "rock music," oblivious to the fact that he's blocking a veritable Russian Army from walking up the escalator.

As far as we, the crack young staff of "The Hatemonger's Quarterly," are concerned, you are fully within your rights to bop this doofus on the head. This hormone-infested tyro is stopping progress, and for that, he deserves nothing less than a savage, savage beating.

In fact, if Barack Obama would merely say that moronic escalator-misusers should receive 5-10-year sentences for their crimes against humanity, we'd vote for the fellow. That would certainly make up for the fact that he's an insufferable egotist with cloudy views on foreign policy. And, as The New Yorker ably demonstrated, a Muslim terrorist.

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As longtime readers of this humble "weblog" well know, we, the crack young staff of "The Hatemonger's Quarterly," have hardly kept up with our erstwhile brisk e-pace. After all, back in the day, we "posted" each and every weekday--and even found time to compose a Sunday lucubration on the Wizbang "weblog" as well.

Unfortunately, however, our deep-pocketed financial backers decided not to renew our funding, and thus we've been scrambling to make ends meet. (We've also been scrambling eggs to make with our meat, but that, dear reader, is an entirely different story. A tasty story, but, as we suggested, utterly different.)

The long and the short of it, is that you--our highly valued e-customer--have been desperately missing our e-musings. Sure, we've "posted" a witty animadversion every month or so, but that's hardly allowed you to get your fill, now has it?

It is with some aplomb, then, that we, the crack young staff of "The Hatemonger's Quarterly," announce Our New E-Posting Plan--to delight our e-reader(s) with at least one humble "post" a week. Although this won't bring us back to our glory days (or Bruce Springsteen's, either), at least it will make us about as regular as an elderly woman clutching a cup of Metamucil.

For no good reason, we've decided to label this our New Glorious Five-Year Plan. A recent check of Wikipedia informs us that five-year plans have worked really, really well throughout modern history, so we figured it'd be a great bandwagon on which to jump.

So, to start our new (and somewhat lax) committment to Al Gore's World-Wide Web, we offer today's humble discussion. And we proudly invite you to read it to your heart's content. Bask, dear reader, in the gorgeousness that is our coruscating e-genius.

Okay, okay, okay: Let's get down to brass tacks. Since our recent budget massacres, we have been markedly bereft of interns. You see, dear reader, unlike those self-regarding, holier-than-thou magazines of the Left, we don't esteem unpaid child labor. Thus, minus our former big bucks, we have no more interns. And, we hasten to add, no Whammies either.

As a result, we've been unable to keep up with our voluminous e-correspondence. Folks have written to us from as far afield as New Jersey, and we haven't found the time to answer them. It's rude of us, we know, but we've been too busy turning tricks to pay for our "weblog" to concern ourselves with the far more sordid world of e-mail.

In today's "post," then, we figured we'd make a start at answering an e-mail query from our backlog. As prominent "webloggers," we naturally receive numerous e-mails from the rich and important. You know, jet-setters and opinion-makers. Like Mark Furhman.

Under the circumstances, it proved difficult to select a sufficiently impressive e-mail. But we think we've found one. Thus we've picked an e-missive from a gal who identifies herself only as "joanna." Her short message reads as follows:

Hi
It`s joanna again. Will you ever contact me?
I made those nude pictures especially for you and I wont write to you again!
If you wanna see them just drop me a line at: bjoanna051@wildpears.info

Ah, what to say in response? We don't mean to upset the e.e. cummings-esque "joanna," but we're pretty darn sure we've never heard from her before. Consequently, we're more than a bit baffled by her concern that we're brushing her off.

It also beggars belief, we think, that our new pal "made those [?] nude pictures especially for" the entire crack young staff of "The Hatemonger's Quarterly." Admittedly, about half of our staff would delight in such naughty photos, even if they came from e.e. cummings. Or even bell hooks. But the other half of our staff (the distaff staffers) is disgusted.

After talking this through, dear reader, we've decided not to respond (again!) to our dear friend "joanna." In fact, we've come to the--admittedly hasty--conclusion that she doesn't know us as well as she previously supposed. Call us paranoid, but it's as if her epistle were directed at thousands of people at random.

So, dear reader, you see what fun you've been missing? Don't worry: We'll be sure to dive further into our mail bag and pick out some other choice examples of enlightening correspondence. Why, just the other day, a Nigerian we've never met made us a very lucrative business proposal. Not too shabby, eh?

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It is starting, dear reader, to get very bad. Very, very bad, in fact. We, the crack young staff of "The Hatemonger's Quarterly," have always attempted to remain neutral about American politicians we don't esteem. After all, nothing makes one look like an idiot quite like a-rantin' and a-ravin' about, say, Bill Clinton or George W. Bush.

As a result, we pride ourselves on only despising the most odious of political figures--Pat Buchanan, Ron Paul, Jimmy Carter, Gallagher. You know: the really obtuse folks.

In fact, for years we've collectively had a recurring dream about returning with Pat Buchanan to the late 19th century, so we could watch him react to WASPs offering racist fulminations about Irish immigrants. Sadly, nothing would make us happier than spying that crypto-Nazi in such a situation. (Perhaps we could get Lou Dobbs to come along as well?)

Given our sincere attempts to steer clear of politician-bashing, it is with some embarrassment that we, the crack young staff of "The Hatemonger's Quarterly," announce that we are beginning to despise Barack Obama.

Now, don't get us wrong, dear reader: We don't hate Sen. Obama for any of the reasons proferred by the knuckle-draggers--he's a Muslim; he's half-black; he's half-white; he's a terrorist; he used to work at CVS; that he esteems Paula Abdul; &c. In addition, unlike the (Ir)Rev. Jesse Jackson, we don't aim to castrate the man.

Still, there is something about Sen. Obama that just rankles.

And we think we know what it is: According to the smart set, Sen. Obama has become "cool." He's been on the receiving end of more puff pieces than the Pillsbury Dough Boy. Rock stars; public intellectuals; Kennedys (living and deceased); the Dell guy--everyone loves him.

Ah, but not us. We, the crack young staff of "The Hatemonger's Quarterly," hate to say it, but we despise anyone that everyone else esteems. The minute someone becomes cool is the minute we grow really wary.

So, we're sick of all the "Yes, We Can," "Change You Can Believe In" garbage. We think it's the left-wing equivalent of President Bush's "compassionate conservatism" mumbo-jumbo. In other words, it's bunk.

We could be wrong, of course, but we think Sen. Obama positively reeks of Jimmy Carter. (Who, of course, himself smells of peanuts and hummus. Oh, and Jew-hatred.) And we want to tell this to you now: Barack Hussein Obama ain't that great.

In a few years, when you finally realize that Sen. Obama is not, in fact, the Secular Jesus, you can remember that We Told You So.

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Before we get underway with todayÂ’s inspired animadversion, we ought to note that the headline for said musing is most decidedly not a reference to a feculent song by a feculent pop outfit called Bananarama. As such, you, dear reader, may continue to absorb our opinions, free from the worry that we shall plague you with un-hip references to lame 1980s rock-n-rollers.

(Incidentally, we need to inform you that our humble spellchecker does not recognize the word “Bananarama,” which, we think, amounts to one of the greatest arguments in favor of the continued flourishing of Western culture that we have happened upon in some time. Our humble spellchecker does, however, recognize the word “spellchecker,” which we find entirely apt.)

Far from offering some meanderings in the world of the lowbrow, today’s humble “post” aims to discuss a far more pertinent matter: The candidacy of one Barack Obama (D-Change) for the presidency of these here United States of America. You see, dear reader, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” have been away from the e-hustle and e-bustle of Al Gore’s Internet. As regular readers of our lucubrations well know, we haven’t been “posting” with great frequency. Hence you can count all our readers on no fingers.

Part and parcel of our recent avoidance of Al GoreÂ’s World-Wide Web has been our failure to keep up with the current presidential campaign. As a result, upon returning from our dungeon to the world of the living, we are often shocked by headlines we missed. Did anyone hear, for example, that Mike Gravel (D-Insane Asylum) didnÂ’t get the Democratic nomination? Man, thatÂ’s a real surprise.

Given our current (if not omnipresent) ignorance, we have decided to ask a few pertinent questions of our readers. Have you heard that Barack Obama is a Muslim? Is his real name Barry Hussein Obama? Or words to that effect? Is he friends with some fellow who is an unrepentant meteorologist?

As insane as these rumors might sound, weÂ’ve recently heard them kicking around. ItÂ’s important to get to the bottom of these matters. After all, erroneously claiming that Barack Obama is a member of the Religion of Peace is an odious slander, designed to drive a wedge of fear (and cake) through the benighted, God-fearing American citizen.

Let us hope that the evil Republicans (pardon the pleonasm) don’t present such scurrilous rumors as this year’s version of Swift Boating. Yes, Sen. Obama’s middle name may seem strikingly like the surname of a certain deceased Iraqi dictator. And, yes, Sen. Obama’s pastor of some 20 years may despise white people. And, yes, Sen. Obama may be Hamas’ favorite American politician, save Jimmy “Nobel Piece of Israel Prize” Carter.

But, by Hercules, that is not reason to disassociate oneself from Sen. Obama’s campaign. We, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” shall vote on far more important matters. Like military service. After all, our Democratic pals made much of John Kerry’s distinguished martial history, unlike that of our semi-draft-dodging Doofus-in-Chief.

If Sen. Barack Osama Obamaa—the distinguished imam, hater of “whitey,” devotee of weathermen, and member of Hamas—fought in ‘Nam, we’re ready to pull the lever for him.

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Recently, dear reader, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” polished off our office copy of U.S. vs. Them: How a Half-Century of Conservatism Has Undermined America’s Security. This dry tome is the work of J. Peter Scoblic, the executive editor of the normally rational New Republic.

Ah, what arrant nonsense! WeÂ’ll spare you of specifics, dear reader, and merely inform you that Mr. Scoblic earnestly wishes that Ronald Reagan had been sufficiently bright to follow the coruscating genius that was Jimmy CarterÂ’s foreign policy.

Yes, yes: That was a complete success. Just ask those plucky Iranian hostages how much they cared for the peanut farmerÂ’s overtures to the world. Criticizing the Shah for human rights abuses was a real good call, eh?

Overall, Mr. Scoblic chastises conservatives for clinging to a good-versus-evil approach to foreign policy. Humorously enough, Mr. Scoblic doesnÂ’t appear to perceive that he himself presents his own version of a good-versus-evil mindset: According to him, liberal foreign policy is good, whilst its conservative corollary is evil.

And, naturally, Mr. Scoblic maintains his aversion to moralistic approaches to world affairs by routinely failing to discuss the horrid actions of any US enemies. Bereft of the vocabulary of evil, how does he suggest we characterize the Gulag, for example? Well, he never mentions it. A regime could engage in premeditated genocide, and the brilliant Mr. Scoblic would still label conservatives knuckle-dragging buffoons for labeling such a junta evil.

Mr. Scoblic also contends that American conservatives demonstrate an appalling distrust of scientific and social-scientific evidence. You know, like in regard to sociobiology or IQ tests. Charles Murray and E.O. Wilson must have oodles of stories pertaining to conservative mistrust of their findings. Or how about research on single-parent households and their effects on poverty? We suppose these are devastating examples of conservative distaste for experts.

Along with this patronizing view of American conservatives come Mr. ScoblicÂ’s assertions about the Bush administrationÂ’s patent anti-intellectualism. For instance, the sharp and debonair Mr. Scoblic asserts:

…Bush would later explain to a journalist: “What angered me was the way such people at Yale felt so intellectually superior and so righteous.” Such elitism would be strictly forbidden at the Bush White House, where degrees from the University of Michigan or Texas A&M were welcomed, while Ivy League pedigrees aroused suspicion.

Leave to one side the ridiculousness of Mr. Scoblic claiming that the Bush administration’s purported love for the University of Michigan—amongst the most esteemed of public institutions of higher learning—amounts to an example of anti-intellectualism. Instead, let us move on to test his claim about the “suspicion” “aroused” by “Ivy League pedigrees.”

Now, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” fully recognize the conservative disdain for evidence. Thus we hope you’ll pardon our nod to a few minutes of Wikipedia “research.”

Below we have provided a cursory list of past and present Bush administration officials and some of their educational backgrounds:

Douglas Feith attended Harvard University.
John Bolton attended Yale University.
Richard Cheney attended Yale University.
I. Lewis “Scooter” Libby attended Yale University.
Donald Rumsfeld attended Princeton University.
John Ashcroft attended Yale University.
Michael Mukasey attended Columbia University.
Elaine Chao attended Harvard Business School.
Joshua Bolten attended Princeton Univerity.
Robert Zoellick attended Harvard Law School.
Paul Wolfowitz attended Cornell University.
Tom Ridge attended Harvard University.
Michael Chertoff attended Harvard University and Harvard Law School.
Spencer Abraham attended Harvard Law School.

Ah, the chilly reception these poor fellows must have endured in the anti-intellectual precincts of the Bush administration! We hope these chaps didnÂ’t bristle too much at the obvious suspicion that their colleagues demonstrated toward them.

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We, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” don’t like to seem cruel. After all, we consider Nick Lowe’s exhortation “You gotta’ be cruel to be kind” entirely wrongheaded. Not to mention, the lyrics to a horrible pop song, to boot.

In fact, we consider our kindness—nay, our compassion—amongst the most important of our attributes. Kindness may not be next to godliness, but, if you ask us, it’s nearer than, say, Billy Joel.

All the above remarks should warn you, dear reader, that we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” are poised to say something unkind. Distinctly unkind, in fact. Downright mean, even.

So, please realize, dear reader, that we offer todayÂ’s commentary with a collective heavy heart. We do not, we must stress, take great delight in presenting such nasty thoughts.

And yet, we feel we must. The crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly” has a duty to the Truth, and by golly we’re going to stick by it. If the Truth is good enough for honest to goodness patriots like Col. Oliver North and John Poindexter (or was that Buster Poindexter?), it’s sure as shingles good enough for us. Without further ado, then, we offer up a malignant animadversion. Prepare yourself, Flyover Country.

Recent e-strolling round Al Gore’s World Wide-Web has informed us that a portion of these here United States of America is under water. One e-article on the subject declares that, “Flooding Puts Cedar Rapids, Much of Iowa Under Water.” Something called the Drudge Report “linked” to said article with the headline “The Lost City of…Iowa,” or some such.

To which we humbly reply: The lost city of Iowa? Uh, does Iowa have any cities? If it does, how come we canÂ’t recall any?

If you ask us, weÂ’re glad that Al GoreÂ’s Gods of Global Warming decided to strike such a ridiculous portion of the United States anyway. We mean, come on: ItÂ’s Iowa. ItÂ’s pretty much MexicoÂ’s northern annex. Oh, no: The floods have ruined all thatÂ…grass.

Alas! Alas! The floodwaters have come close to the sanctified purlieus of the University of Iowa! Oh, dear. How will all the corn-fed yokels learn their ReadinÂ’, RitinÂ’, and RithmaticÂ’?

Will civilization outlast the flooding of Iowa State? We hope it will be so, but we collectively doubt it.

Before you get in a huff, dear reader, please be kind enough to recognize that we previously informed you that our words werenÂ’t terribly kind. After all, these poor slack-jawed hicks are busy salvaging their John Deer tractors and butter churners, and weÂ’re off making fun of them. Not, we daresay, very nice at all.

So, from here on out, we wonÂ’t mention the fact that weÂ’re glad Global Warming took out its wrath on one of the worst of these here United States. Save Nebraska, perhaps. We wonÂ’t implore the Gods of Global Warming to hit South Dakota next. That would be unfeeling and rude to our fan(s) in the nationÂ’s heartland.

In fact, our intemperate outburst has compelled us to give up some of our hard-earned money to help clean up after the disaster in Iowa. And we officially exhort our reader(s) to do likewise. Ah, the selflessness of the crack young staff.

We knew that kinder sentiments would prevail.

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ItÂ’s well past time, dear reader, for us to announce the winners of our glorious Fifth Annual Horrible College-Student Poetry Competition. Before we get under way with the kudos and acclaim, however, we would like to make a few remarks as a prolegomenon.

First, we should thank all those who entered our humble contest. As our official contest judge, Anonymous, can well tell you, there were some really execrable bits of verse entered this year. Really, really wretched stuff. Accordingly, Anonymous, though a poet of the ages, had great difficulty choosing our winners.

Ah, but he had some help. Michael E. Lopez, Esq., the supremely talented winner of the four previous Horrible College-Student Poetry Competitions, did not have the opportunity to defend his laurel crown, and thus took on the role of Anonymous’ Official Helper. We, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” were delighted to behold the handiwork of the clever Mr. Lopez. And surely no one knows how to write execrable collegiate balladry as well as he.

This means, of course, that we have a brand new grand-prize winner for this yearÂ’s contest. Oh, how exciting! Given the horrid entries we received, you should not be too upset if you donÂ’t find your entry amongst the victors. After all, this may merely mean that you actually write good poetry.

Without further ado, then, let us turn to the best of the worst. Naturally, all the errors found below appeared in the originals.

Fourth Runner-Up: “sonnet of (equaliteez)” bai (Quincy)

how R U racist? let me kount teh wayz
U R racist cuz U R (white)
U R racist bai dai n nite,
U R racist cuz U fite
teh ones who teech (equality).
U R racist cuz U dwell
on mai lak of skilz at spell(ing)
U R racist cuz U talk (white)
ai reelee can(not) stand the site,
uv U talking (white)...
ai seez U, (white), az uh sheet,
KKK reddy 2 beet... (me)
(white) az AmeriKKKa!
racist AmeriKKKa!
U R racist cuz U deny teh (truth),
the fundu(mental) equazhun...
racist=(white)

Gee: SomeoneÂ’s received a B- in his African-American Studies class, eh? Even by the wretched standards of bad collegiate doggerel, thatÂ’s some bad stuff.

Third Runner-Up: “My Fluid Country” by C-Mortar

When I see puss draining from a scab on my arm,
I see the damage caused by America.
When I see blood coming from an absess in my leg,
I see all the innocent people killed by America.
When I see the discharge from my vagina,
I see all of the women raped by America.
When I see the snot running out of my nose,
I see all of the crying children orphaned by America.
When I see the ooze from the sores on my penis,
I see all of the gay men marginalixed by America.
When I see the fungual discoloration of my toenails,
I see all of the free people not given a living wage by America.

And when I see all of the problems my body has
But I have no national health care plan to help,
I see that I, too, have been victimized by America.

Oh, that’s pretty delicious, is it not? We mean, come on: How many collegiate verses have you read that don’t include the line “When I see the discharge from my vagina”? Not that many, we’d wager.

Second Runner-Up: “No more salad for me, Mom” by Phoenix

The guilt, the guilt
weighs heavy on my shoulders
Pushing me down down down
where i rightly belong.

How long – lo! so many years
have i masticated, chewed, gobbled, and munched
Proudly and yes, even arrogantly
murdered my green friends at the salad bar.

The shame, the shame
does not the cereal have rights?
does not she want to go to seed
and see her fruit grow up around her?

i, murderer me, am complicit in a
worldwide conspiracy
the subjugation of all green things
to my plate and my palate

the pant kingdom should rightly rise up

That, dear reader, is really grand. It just screams “Alexis became a fruitarian last week and she pines to strangle the world in her sanctimony.”

First Runner-Up: “Truth…AFIRE!” by C. Monsoon

In this fractal mind I hear the rumourings of your winsum heart
Through a crystal dark like a lilt it wafts as fine smoke is wont in thin air
But I have not the time right here in the here & now
For truth is but afire!
Truth Â… afire!

I throw myself against the Trojan-like cadderwalls
Of a castle dark, a fortress so wicked and strong
Silent trees cry for me where they have fellen as a songbird bravely sings
By a toxic brook in the brokin air-fowled wood
They know all too well the inner inate darkness of the black corprit soul

But I say cry no moor for a lyric-like spirit beckins me
For this wayward son will carry on with genesuss rising
And he will journey on and revere revelry in blissful oneness
But is there no place yet left to hide while truth is all afire?
Truth Â… afire!

Now terry not must I go now even as I must, yet, yes, go I must
For I know that I am but a few edgy permeations away
Along the wayward tangent to the blazing eyes of a tortured friend
An “ami” as one is wont to want to say, while truth they burn afire!
While truth they burn and it is all Â… afire!

[NOTE: Next verse recited stoic’ly, almost Gaelic’ly, like in the movie “Rob Roy” or “Braveheart, with one lone mournful bagpipe weeping from behind]
The dogs of a chicken-hawk war run blindingly on!
Their fateful howling screams a den of fearul shame!
Can they see not the havick they so retchedly reek upon us all!
And that theyÂ’re woeful day of wrecknÂ’ing is writ large upon them!
While their currish tails all but hide their rancid fowl deseats?

Will we stand most righteous against the patricianarchal neocon hordes?
Against the hatemongrills, the warmongrills, each mongrills all!
That would dog-wag us into unjust genocide with their hateful doggerills?
For in their primate fear can they not see the truth afire?!
The truth all burning Â…all Â… afire?!

Nigh be of fright my bonny friend of good hope ( the one I am wont to call “ami”)
For in our hands we hold the holiest of the holies of peace, diversity and tolerance
Our ship sails on the night tides away, away, from the inane outer darkness
To a much more better day at times where no truth is burning all afire!
Where no truth not wont to burn is not Â… afire!

Yet even now theres truth tÂ’is burning Â… all Â…afire.

TRUTH Â… AFIRE!

We think Mr. Lopez summed up this poem best: “The problem with this poem is that it’s almost good, it’s so bad.” Yes, we entirely agree.

And this leaves us with the big, big winner:

The Winner of the Fifth Annual Horrible College-Student Poetry Competition: “Vegetarian Predator” by The Hairy Beast

(1) She stands on the quad or
the quad stands on her. They march
by
They see but they donÂ’t see
all that I see. Why should they?

They donÂ’t know her.

(2) The wind tumbles the sheet across the tar
Stained with tears of rain.
Red and black black and red. It flips and flops.

The face of the hope we wait for.

3) She tapes another to the wall
of the student union. It tries to stick
It clings
Then is rejected like the other.

Gives itself to the fickle wind.

4)And the others walk on indifferant.
But I see
And I know her.

She is the we we are waiting for.

Oh, thatÂ’s just spot-on, isnÂ’t it? It reeks of a quasi-literate 19-year-old pathetically attempting to use every big word in her pathetic vocabulary to write a pathetic poem! Amongst a sea of awful poems, this one is truly wretched.

So congrats, the Hairy Beast, for taking home the gold in our Fifth Annual Horrible College-Student Poetry Competition! You have made Philip Larkin shudder.

But can the Hairy Beast make it two-in-a-row? Or will Michael E. Lopez return with a vengeance? Or how about some new pseudo-poet?

You’ll have to wait until next year’s festivities to find out. Ah, the joys of living on our lovely planet. No wonder so many folks turn to our humble “weblog” for delight, amusement, and horrid verse.

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Despite all our differences—black and white; young and old; Obama-supporting and sane—one thing binds us together: We all despise college students. And rightfully so, we must add. After all, is anything more annoying than the appalling illiteracy of these self-indulgent, lazy proto-drunkards? We, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” collectively think not.

But there is one way you can get back at these obnoxious upper-middle-class acquaintance rapists. You can tease them ceaselessly by composing your own execrable verse in the style of inept collegiate balladry. That is to say, dear reader, you can write a poem in the pathetic manner of todayÂ’s self-important college student.

To aid you on your quest to get even with those pertinacious tyros, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” officially announce the fifth iteration of our popular (and infamous) contest: The “Hatemonger’s Quarterly” Horrible College-Student Poetry Competition.

Always a highlight of our (increasingly vestigial) “weblog’s” e-year, the Horrible College-Student Poetry Competition is a real gas: It allows everyone to provide a vicious parody of the politically menacing inept blather favored by our nation’s young adults. And nothing—and we mean nothing—matches lame college poetry in its ability to delight: Vapid clichés; tin-eared doggerel; grammatical mishaps; noxious political hectoring.

WhatÂ’s not to enjoy? So, dear reader, we formally implore you to send us a submission of some wretched verse, composed in the manner of the functionally illiterate college student. (To get a sense of whatÂ’s worked well in the past, check out previous winning entries here, here, here, and here.)

Now, you still may not have a good idea of the kind of pathetic pseudo-verse we exhort you to submit. As such, we have written our own poem, which we have pretentiously titled “We Are All Muslims Now.”

We Are All Muslims Now by the Crack Young Staff of THMQ
Amerika is the raping of Gitmo.
Amerika is the killing of brown people.
Amerika is the Wal-Mart of sexism.
Amerika is the lynching of freedom.

But what Amerika—prostrate to the higher dollar—doesn’t realize is:
We Are All Muslims Now.
We are all al Qaida.
We are all Anne Frank.
We are all Heath Ledger.
We Are All Muslims Now.

Pretty awful, is it not? Do you think you can do better? We collectively bet you can.

Just to make things clear, weÂ’re asking for disastrously terrible verse in the juvenile style of the typical college goon. Misspellings are a plus, as is an irksome all-knowing tone. And grammatical errors? Those earn you double points. Any examples of good taste or style will disqualify your entry.

The winners, dear reader, will have the distinct honor of full publication in “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” with lots of lauds from the crack young staff. Your neighbors will be jealous. Men will want to be you, and women will want to be with you. Or the reverse, if you’re of the feminine persuasion.

So, you ask, what are the official contest rules? They are as follows. All entries must be submitted by 5:00pm EST on May 10, 2008. Contestants need not be college students. Contestants need not detest college students, but it will probably help. Meter, coherence, assonance, and displays of real talent are to be avoided.

All submissions will be read by our Official Contest Judge, Anonymous. In addition to being one of the most prolific poets of the ages, Anonymous has served as our arbiter of excellence since the very start of this humble competition.

So, dear reader, wait for the Inept College-Student Muse to inspire you, and send in your poem by clicking the “Contact Us” “link” at the top right-hand corner of your computer screen.

With a little luck, you may be the next Philip Larkin. Or, failing that, a pathetic college sophomore who incorrectly believes that he knows everything about foreign policy and can best express his deep learning in verse.

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Rip-roarin’ right-wing commentator Mark Steyn once observed that so-called liberal media bias—though the bugbear of American conservatives—actually hurts leftists. As far as Steyn is concerned, the left-wing cast of the mainstream media serves to insulate Democrats from public opinion, thereby providing for all manner of electoral losses.

We, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” can see what Mr. Steyn means. In fact, we think that the current unraveling of Sen. Barack Obama (D-Bromides) is a perfect case in point of the problems media bias offers to the Left.

After all, for umpteen months now, the mainstream media have resolutely refused to treat Sen. Obama with anything less than embarrassing deference. Whilst blown-dry popinjays like the faintly orange Brian Williams peppered Sen. Hillary Clinton (D-Pants Suit) with myriad obnoxious “gotcha” pseudo-queries, they tended to offer nothing but softballs to Sen. Obama.

Hence Sen. Obama cruised to electoral success on the wings of his soaring rhetoric, despite the obvious fact that said rhetoric consists almost entirely of mindless platitudes. Obama, you see, is for “change” and “bi-partisanship.” Wow: So are we. Does he also support puppies and sunsets? If so, his political inclinations are uncannily akin to those of the crack young staff.

So we suppose that should compel us to cast our ballots for this preening paleo-liberal. Sure, his voting record may be slightly to the Left of Eugene Debs, but he sure talks a good centrist game. And whatÂ’s so scary about the Left? If we recall correctly, Jimmy Carter was an amazingly successful president. Just ask those Iranian hostages.

But wait: Once the folks at “Saturday Night Live” began to parody the media’s fawning coverage of Sen. Obama, the journalists finally started to ask some tough questions and to probe beneath the surface. And, as it turns out, Sen. Obama isn’t the Dream Candidate after all. Who would have thunk it?

Naturally, much ink has been spilled on the topic of Sen. Obama’s favorite preacher, (Ir)Rev. Jeremiah Wright. This 20-year veteran of Sen. Obama’s good graces winds up being something of an angry, racist radical nutter. He makes Louis Farrakhan seem like a nice guy—or at least like a nice dresser. (Snappy bowtie, Minister Evil).

Now, dear reader, you may not want to take our collective words on this score. After all, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” are merely “typical white people.” As such, you just might figure that we don’t take kindly to all that Kill Whitey rhetoric. Silly us.

Even so, it is crystal clear that Sen. Obama isnÂ’t the white DemocratÂ’s Great Semi-Black Hope after all. In fact, it turns out that Sen. Hillary Clinton may well be the stronger candidate. But it seems as if itÂ’s too late for her. Oh, drat.

This could lead to another Republican victory and another instance of perils of left-wing media bias.

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As everyone in the smart set well knows, The New York Times is a serious newspaper. Perhaps, we suppose, not as serious as The New York Post, Rupert MurdochÂ’s incessantly highbrow tabloid, but serious nonetheless.

Accordingly, dear reader, one might expect the editorial eminences at The New York Times to offer their readers only the very finest reporting from the world of current affairs. This is the self-proclaimed Paper of Record, for crying out loud: We should think it would eschew tabloid-style high jinks, or similarly flimsy palaver.

And this, dear reader, is exactly what we found upon recently turning to the “website” of the esteemed Gray Lady. Amongst the usual rants of Gail Collins and Paul Krugman, we stumbled upon “What Would Alex Keaton Do?,” a deeply important take on the presidential election from the pen of one David Goldberg.

Who, you may reasonably be asking yourself, is David Goldberg? Well, he was a writer for the feculent 1980s television clunker “Family Ties”—the program that launched the undersized Michael J. Fox to the undersized limelight. And, though the folks at the Times have highlighted his article as “comedy,” Mr. Goldberg doesn’t offer any laughs. Rather, his is a serious rumination on fictional character Alex Keaton’s presumptive choice for President of the United States.

It turns out that Mr. Goldberg believes that the arch-conservative Alex Keaton (were he a real person) would plump for—wait for it—Barack Obama. And the Times appears to have considered this really, really noteworthy.

As, we need hardly add, do we. Yet the Gray Lady’s dipping into the likely voting choice of a fictional television character leads to another important—nay, crucial—question: What about other television characters? For whom would they pull the lever?

Ah, you needn’t have troubled yourself with that vexing—and, we hardly need say, crucial—query. We, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” have already done our darndest to answer it.

Without further ado, we present to you the following list of television characters and their likely presidential picks:

Tootie Ramsey (from “The Facts of Life”): Barack Obama
Benson (from “Benson”): Barack Obama
Stanley (from “The Office”): Barack Obama
B.A. Barracus (from “The A-Team”): Barack Obama
Erkel (from the show with Erkel on it): Barack Obama
Fred Sanford (from “Sanford and Son”): Barack Obama
Lamont Sanford (from “Sanford and Son”): Barack Obama
George Jefferson (from “The Jeffersons”): Barack Obama
The Entire Cast of “Good Times”: Barack Obama
The Entire Cast of “What’s Happening”: Barack Obama
Mr. Magoo (from “Mr. Magoo”) Ron Paul

Well, there you have it: News which, as they say, you can use. Maybe you didnÂ’t know that Mr. Magoo was a hardcore libertarian?

Perhaps such insight can land us some column space in the Paper of Record?

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These days, dear reader, folks are up in arms about The New York TimesÂ’ decision to launch a scurrilous assault on Sen. John McCain. According to the non-story that appeared in the Gray Lady, a few anonymous, likely disgruntled sources assert that, years ago, some female lobbyist was sufficiently close to Sen. McCain to concern some of his staffers.

Yep: ThatÂ’s it. No proof, just innuendo: Sen. McCain may have been close to a female lobbyist. To the editorial eminences at the Paper of Record, that bit of unsubstantiated claptrap is page one, above-the-fold material.

Well, well, well: We suppose that two can play at this little game. And we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” are just the sorts of folks to join in on the festivities.

Accordingly, it is with great aplomb that we report an exclusive story about Bill Keller, the executive editor of The New York Times responsible for giving the green light to the charmingly ineffective anti-McCain hit piece. A couple of anonymous, likely disgruntled sources have contacted “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” and, after much hand wringing, we’ve decided to publish the following:

Was Bill Keller Involved in an Extra-Marital Love Tryst?

NEW YORK – Two anonymous former employees at The New York Times assert that Bill Keller, the paper’s executive editor, was in danger of becoming too close with a female Times employee in 1993. Mr. Keller, who is married, spent a sufficient amount of time with this employee, Rita Duval, that a few other Times employees grew nervous of the effect this could have on Mr. Keller’s private life.

In 1993, Mr. Keller met Ms. Duval, whose fetching spandex pants suits and fur-lined sweat clothes attracted much male attention, say our anonymous sources. Within weeks of their first meeting, Mr. Keller took regular trips to Ms. Duval’s desk, supposedly to gossip about “Pinch” Sulzberger, the paper’s publisher.

“People were gabbing about this around the water cooler,” says one anonymous source, who remains nameless because he would rather drag other peoples’ names into the mud without affecting his life in any way. “Lots of staffers thought that the two of them were an item.”

Mr. Keller’s lawyer, Robert Bennett, vociferously denies the charges. According to Mr. Bennett “no one named Rita Duval worked at The New York Times in 1993. As far as we can tell, in fact, no one by that name ever worked at the paper.”

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During our longish absence, dear reader, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” have been hitting the books. Call us the anti-college student: We’re actually literate.

And what books, pray tell, have we been reading? Well, dear reader, weÂ’re glad you asked. Most recently, we strolled our fingers through They Knew They Were Right: The Rise of the Neocons by one Jacob Heilbrunn.

We wish we could report that we found this particular tome immensely satisfying. After all, it was penned by something of a political insider: Mr. Heilbrunn, in addition to having scribbled for The New Republic, is a senior editor of The National Interest, Irving KristolÂ’s old foreign policy rag.

So here, one might think, is a fellow who has the skinny on those slippery neoconservatives. Ah, but one would think incorrectly. As it turns out, Mr. HeibrunnÂ’s book is part tired rehashing of the same old neocon story, part sloppy, dubious opining.

For instance, Mr. Heibrunn argues that there is something inescapably Jewish about neoconservatism, since it is apparently a tradition heavy of prophetic polemics. To which one might reasonably respond: As opposed toÂ…what? We mean, come on: What political movement doesnÂ’t have its share of such stuff? Has Mr. Heilbrunn never read The Nation? Has he heard of The New York Review of Books?

But thatÂ’s far from the only flaw in They Knew They Were Right. (Incidentally, Mr. Heilbrunn, unlike those dreaded neocons, often recognizes that He Is Wrong. That should make reading his latest opusÂ’ reviews easier.)

In the course of discussing the intellectual atmosphere of post-Cold War America, Mr. Heibrunn dilates on Francis Fukuyama’s essay “The End of History,” which appeared in The National Interest. To Mr. Heilbrunn, Mr. Fukuyama’s Hegelian nonsense demonstrates the neoconservatives’ outlandish post-Cold War triumphalism. Like Mr. Fukuyama, apparently, the neocons envisioned the End of History.

Well, letÂ’s just take a look at a bit of evidence, shall we? Neocons were enraptured by Mr. FukuyamaÂ’s article, were they? Hmmmm.

In Bobos in Paradise, David Brooks—a New York Times neocon—argued that the way to become a famous public intellectual was to write an article so transparently foolish that other public intellectuals clamor to discount your arguments. His example: “The End of History”—an idea so dimwitted that even reading the title proved the piece’s fatuousness.

How about Roger Kimball, co-editor and co-publisher of The New Criterion, a neoconservative journal of high culture? In a lengthy discussion of Mr. Fukuyama’s argument, Mr. Kimball rips it apart. For instance, Mr. Kimball writes: “But considered on his own—i.e. Hegel’s—terms, Fukuyama would seem to be a disappointing dialectician.” Not very strong praise, eh?

But wait: There’s more. Mr. Kimball, in this selfsame article, offers Irving Kristol’s take on “The End of History.” The godfather of neoconservatism said the following: “I don’t believe a word of it.”

Well, there you have it: An article—and accompanying book—roundly castigated by neoconservatives offers the triumphalist viewpoints of neoconservatives. Doesn’t leave you with much faith in Mr. Heilbrunn, does it?

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As regular reader(s) of this humble “weblog” well know, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” haven’t been writing up a storm of late. In fact, you can count all our recent “posts” on no fingers. Accordingly, our audience is likely as large as a concert devoted to a 13-year-old playing Pierre Boulez sonatas with his armpit. (And, yes, those Pierre Boulez gags aren’t exactly aiding our efforts to reach more readers.)

Still, every once in a while, we become so fed up with the news cycle that we simply must break our collective silence. Campaign season is upon us, of course, and it brings with it all sorts of irritants.

Allow us to elaborate. There’s a fellow named Barack Obama (D-Bromides). As it turns out, he’s running for president of the United States, though he’s only served in the US Senate for one measly term. Even so, the media have lavished him with attention and warmth, compelling numerous mindless people to plump for him—instead of more experienced Democrats, such as Joe Biden and Christopher Dodd.

Thus Sen. Obama is content to head out on the campaign trail and speak to massive throngs in nothing but abject platitudes. Sen. Obama, we learn, supports “hope.” He is, we learn, also keen on “bi-partisanship,” which appears to be a code word for “support for paleo-liberalism.” For some reason, everyone is eating this stuff up.

Oh, and one more detail: Sen. Obama is black.

So whatÂ’s going on here? Sen. Hillary Clinton (D-Pants Suit) would love to know. Whilst the media treat Sen. Obama with the kiddest of kid gloves, they assail Sen. Clinton with untoward ferocity. Every night, it seems, the talking heads fawn over Sen. Obama; every night, it seems, Chris Matthews channels Andy Capp in order to discuss Hillary.

And Sen. Clinton ain’t happy about it. Hillary and her supporters—including her notably randy husband—are up in arms about the stark differences in media coverage.

To which we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” respond: Look, Hillary, you get what you deserve.

After all, Sen. Clinton and her minions support what is euphemistically called “affirmative action” (a.k.a. preferential treatment). According to those of Sen. Clinton’s political persuasion, the United States should chuck its passé concern for the equal treatment of people in favor of a pernicious social gerrymandering. Members of so-called underrepresented minority groups (read: Unsuccessful minority groups) and women (ditto) warrant an artificial boost.

So, Sen. Obama is receiving that unfair boost. The media arenÂ’t treating the election as a level playing field; rather, theyÂ’re favoring the black liberal.

Sen. Clinton, this is affirmative action in practice. ItÂ’s the unfairness youÂ’ve always desired. Why donÂ’t you love it? Why do you suddenly clamor for equal treatment?

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