Conventional Wisdom = Wishful Thinking

HereÂ’s a newsflash for you: Newsweek magazine is a joke. Yep, you heard it here first, dear reader. No matter how many other folks you know treat Newsweek as their Bible, itÂ’s actually a lodestone for arrant twaddle.

There are many reasons, of course, why this is the case. First and foremost, the culture pages of Newsweek routinely devote space to what can only be deemed anti-culture. You know: Snoop Diggity Doggity; Lindsey LohanÂ’s drug connections; the editress of Seventeen. According to the ferociously lowbrow people who bring you Newsweek, one simply must know about such folks.

But surely Newsweek’s routine and pernicious left-wing tilt most enrages. We, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” have remarked upon this matter before. Although Newsweek likes to present itself as a largely non-partisan outfit, it’s obviously infused with the typical mainstream media bias.

This would not be an issue at all, of course, if Newsweek presented itself as a glossier, wussier, watered-down version of The Nation. Rather, it offers its readers an irksome pretense of objectivity.

Take, for example, the “Conventional Wisdom Watch” section of the rag. Appearing each week in the magazine’s front section, this feature purports to offer the country’s general sentiments on current events. In reality, it presents nothing so much as the wishful thinking of Newsweek’s left-leaning staff.

In every issue, for instance, the magazine rates the supposed conventional wisdom on George W. Bush. And in every issue the conventional wisdom offers bad news: Bush is horrible, incompetent, a moron. According to the dolts at Newsweek, virtually every week Bush has been president heÂ’s ran afoul of the countryÂ’s conventional wisdom.

These days, for instance, there has been some modestly good news for President Bush. There are signs that the surge in Iraq is working, as even The New York Times’ editorial page has noted. The economy appears to be okay—though not marvelous—and Bush has even seen a bit of an up-tick in his polling numbers.

Ah, but Newsweek’s conventional wisdom will have none of that. In the August 27 number of the rag, it proffers the following reading of the president: “What does it mean when a president goes on vacation and nobody cares? Happy brush-clearing, W.”

Uh, gee: Newsweek magazine could fold next week and nobody with a brain would care. Happy sanctimony, Anna Quindlen.

The self-same issue’s conventional wisdom section also offers this assessment of presidential candidate Mike Huckabee: “GOP prez long shot says Repubs can’t survive as the ‘party of plutocrats.’ Agree or not, it’s a fresh message.” Naturally, Newsweek argues that the conventional wisdom favors Mr. Huckabee’s pronouncement.

But of course: Newsweek loves it when a Republican sounds like a Democrat. ItÂ’s not the fresh message the mag so esteems, but the lefty message. After all, Joe Lieberman has some fresh messages regarding Iran. Why isnÂ’t NewsweekÂ’s conventional wisdom championing those?

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The Totalitarianism of the Hard Left

As typical Americans inhabiting a populous locale, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” must oft take in the mindless protests of radical leftists. Although we don’t run into such blights with great frequency, we’ve certainly seen our share of “No War for Oil” hullabaloos.

Frankly, dear reader, few things rankle as much as dimwitted people chirpily displaying dimwitted slogans. “Make Houses Not War”; “Bush Lied, Millions Died”; “Impeach Cheney”—these are the moronic slogans of the politically un-thoughtful.

But surely chief among the cardinal concerns of the hard Left in this country are civil liberties. As you surely know, our radical buddies bleat on and on about the totalitarian nightmare that the US is becoming under President Bush. Why, the government actually spies on telephone calls to suspected al Qaeda operatives! Perish the thought.

Naturally, though, the purported hard Left regard for civil liberties is merely hogwash. In reality, radical leftists donÂ’t care a jot about civil liberties. Rather, they muster phony complaints about them in order to fling mud at their political opponents.

In fact, radical leftists chiefly pine for full governmental control of people’s lives and an extreme—and perpetual—redistribution of income. In the grand scheme, civil liberties mean nothing to them.

Allow us to prove our point. The recent press on VenezuelaÂ’s Hugo Chavez is ominous. In just the past few months, weÂ’ve read reports that paint a picture of a left-wing strongman whoÂ’s blatantly scheming for more and more power.

Mr. Chavez has, for instance, declared that he will kick foreigners out of his country for proving too critical of his government. He also aims to shut down media outlets critical of his rule. And, as The Wall Street Journal noted recently, Mr. Chavez has suggested alterations to the Venezuelan constitution that would erase presidential term limits.

Just imagine, dear reader, if President Bush did any of these things. Just imagine if he did anything even remotely like these things. What would the far Left say about that?

Yet our left-wing friends are willing to sweep these troubling facts under the rug in order to cheerlead for their beloved Saint Hugo. HeÂ’s a proto-totalitarian aiming at a lifelong dictatorship. But, because he is a left-wing proto-dictator, hypocritical leftists such as the Joe Dirt-coiffed John Pilger love him dearly.

Any time a Chavez supporter natters on about the death of American civil liberties, you know that heÂ’s a liar. HeÂ’s just mad that the US government isnÂ’t sufficiently left-wing for his liking.

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The Case for Preemptive Impeachment

As you undoubtedly know, dear reader, lots of our liberal friends are clamoring to impeach President Bush. If you ask us, this is utter foolishness: Our lefty pals really aim to criminalize political disagreements. To them, if an American president is strongly at odds with the “progressive” community, he should be thrown in jail.

Now, of course, our leftist friends pretend that there are real legal issues behind their urge to impeach. You know the whole “argument”: The Bush junta lied our way into the debacle of Iraq, &c. But such sentiments merely amount to partisan takes on recent events and do not demonstrate criminal behavior on the part of the Bush administration.

Frankly, dear reader, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” kind of wish the Democrats would impeach President Bush. That might be the only thing that would revitalize his flagging presidency. After all, the impeachment of President Clinton really served the Republican Congress well, didn’t it?

Still, we have the sense that the Democratic powers-that-be in the Senate and House are too bright to fall for the far LeftÂ’s impeachment rhetoric. Even Russ FeingoldÂ’s mealy-mouthed call for a presidential censure wonÂ’t pass muster.
Hence we’ll have to endure a year more of radical activists bleating about impeachment on unhinged “weblogs” and in the unhinged pages of The Nation. Kind of a depressing thought, is it not?

But we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” think we have an answer to our left-wing pals’ futile impeachment nonsense. We call it Preemptive Impeachment, and, as good neo-conservatives, you can well imagine that we’ll support anything with the word “preemptive” in the title. (Preemptive Billy Joel Slapping—doesn’t sound so bad, does it?)

So, you may reasonably wonder, how does Preemptive Impeachment work? Well, it’s rather simple, actually. Conservative activists must merely get the ball rolling on impeaching the next Democratic president—whoever he or she may be. They can devote their “weblogs” to fanning preemptively the flames of impeachment for whatever leftist gets elected in the future.

The reasons for this Preemptive Impeachment are easy. Conservatives will likely strongly disagree with the policy decisions of the next Democratic president, and thus all they must do is offer the appearance that these forthcoming policy decisions are criminal.

So, whilst our liberal pals are off screaming for Bush’s head, our conservative buddies can clamor for the head of the next Democrat on the chopping block. And, unlike the lefties, the conservatives won’t have to stop their hectoring in 2008. How do you think the “progressives” will like a taste of their own medicine?

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Shock E-Troops

We, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” have a hunch. Right off the bat, we’ll admit that we may be wrong about it. But it just rings true to us.

Perhaps, dear reader, you have heard about the whole Scott Thomas Beauchamp brouhaha. If not, there’s a good chance that you’re reading this “post” by banging two rocks together. (And, if so, good for you—you’re very resourceful, aren’t you?)

Mr. Beauchamp, a private in the US Army, penned a handful of anonymous columns for the moderate liberal magazine The New Republic. These short pieces offer a brutal picture of American forces in Iraq, highlighting their dubious and alarming conduct.

The articles, having appeared in the pages of TNR, led some readers to cry foul. To them, they just didn’t ring true. After lots of spirited banter on right-wing “weblogs,” the editorial staff at TNR offered a second round of fact-checking, to make sure that the pieces were up to snuff.

As it turns out, the US Army completed its own investigation and has come to the conclusion that Mr. Beauchamp’s articles are chock-a-block with fabrications. Even so, TNR claims that the articles—with one rather glaring exception—are the capital-T Truth.

Accordingly, one can imagine that Al GoreÂ’s Internet will continue to be abuzz about the Private Beauchamp fiasco. Is Mr. Beauchamp the latest Stephen Glass? Is he the militaryÂ’s Caucasian version of Jayson Blair? &c.

And hereÂ’s where our hunch comes in. If you ask us, this whole Beauchamp business has given lots and lots of free publicity to The New Republic. WeÂ’d imagine that plenty of folks who had never heard of TNR would now recognize it on the newsstand.

This doesn’t mean, of course, that the Beauchamp brouhaha has greatly increased—or even somewhat increased—the circulation of TNR. Overall, the story doesn’t paint a terribly flattering portrait of the editorial acumen of TNR. Further, many of those most interested in this Beauchamp business are hard-line right-wingers who don’t care a jot for TNR.

Still, a story of this magnitude can only increase the visibility of TNR, and it has probably compelled a fair share of lefties to defend the magazine. So, if you ask us, their seeming gaffe actually aided TNR.

Which leads us to wonder: What kind of gaffe could we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” make that would catapult our humble “weblog” to the World-Wide Web stratosphere? We’d love to rocket into e-superstardom for one horrendous faux pas. But what could it be? Surely putting the phrase faux pas in italics won’t suffice.

Got any ideas? E-popularity beckons.

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Change the Channel Like Beckham

In the past, dear reader, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” have remarked on our hatred of soccer. If you ask us, the game is mind-numbingly boring. What’s worse, snooty Americans attempt to seem cosmopolitan by pretending to esteem the sport. For some reason, liberals believe that faking enthusiasm for soccer (pardon us: Football) demonstrates great concern for poor Paraguayans.

This renders the game the athletic equivalent of the UN. Gosh: No wonder we loathe it.

As such, weÂ’re a bit embarrassed to admit that we got mildly swept up in the whole David Beckham Arrives with his Ridiculous Wife to Play in America fiasco. We canÂ’t help it: Every darn news report focused on the squillions of dollars the LA Galaxy is paying him. How could you ignore this incessant press?

Well, when we say we have been “swept up” by this David Beckham business, we really mean that we’ve become suitably interested to watch a few seconds of soccer on the television in order to spy Mr. Beckham on the field. That might not sound like much, but, given our healthy disdain for soccer, believe us when we tell you that it means a fair amount.

Accordingly, the other day we magically found ourselves sitting in front of the boob tube, about to take in a soccer match. Weird, isn’t it? Broadcast on ESPN 8 (“The Ocho”), the game featured the LA Galaxy (Beckham’s club) and their rivals, the Dubuque Mudhens. Or some such. Frankly, we already forgot the name of the opposing team.

Anyway, much to our surprise, Mr. Beckham actually failed to dash all expectations by taking the field at some point. By this time, we had begun knitting an advent calendar, sucking down a few bottles of cough syrup, and doing grout work in the bathroom, because the soccer was so excruciatingly dull.

Still, Beckham kicked the ball a couple of times, earning the noisy adulation of the LA Galaxy faithful. Oh, the roar of the crowd: The dramatically overpaid British pseudo-hope for soccer in the States ran around like a ninny for a bit. Be still our collective heart.

Last we checked, Mr. Beckham didn’t score a goal. Not one. Nor, we might add, did anyone on his team. You can count all their goals on no fingers. Though we didn’t catch the end of the game—for surely that much soccer would have brought on a particularly nasty seizure—we think that the final score was 1-0.

You know what that means, dear reader. It means that someone actually scored a goal during the course of the entire match. One whole goal. In one game.

Man, no wonder people dig this soccer so much.

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Another Academic Breakthrough

As you might well imagine, dear reader, the scholarly world is all atwitter. Throughout the hallowed halls of academe, ivy-covered professors canÂ’t stop whispering about a brand-new landmark work. Many claim that this magnum opus will forever alter the intellectual universe.

We refer, of course, to “Never Forget: A Journey of Revelations.” And what, you may reasonably ask, is “Never Forget: A Journey of Revelations”? Why, it’s Cornel West’s new rap album.

You know Cornel West, dear reader. He’s the Buckwheat-coiffed black pseudo-scholar who bolted from Harvard University to Princeton University in 2002 when Harvard president Larry Summers criticized his first effort in the realm of so-called “hip-hop.”

Decades ago, West wrote serious articles on philosophy. But, having Mau-Maued his way to the academic stratosphere, he has long since abandoned serious research for all sorts of ridiculous politicized grandstanding. As such, youÂ’re more likely to see West at a political protest or rap concert than an academic conference.

If you ask us, it is to Larry Summers’ eternal credit that the absurd West left Harvard during his tenure. But clearly Joan Anderman, a staff writer for The Boston Globe, thinks otherwise. In the August 12 number of said paper, Ms. Anderman offers “Returning Rap to its Roots,” a pathetically fawning profile of West’s latest “hip-hop” foray.

The kicker to this article reads: “On second album, Cornel West gets a little help from his friends.” Who, you might wonder, are the friends? Do Harvard’s Harvey Mansfield and Princeton’s Peter Singer add a few raps of their own? Maybe Princeton president Shirley Tighman performs a little “human beat-box”?

Ah, no. As Ms. Anderman coos: “What does it take to get Prince, Talib Kweli, Andre 3000, KRS-One, Jill Scott, Rhymefest, and the late Gerald Levert on one album? It takes one man: Cornel West.” Gee, that is some academic accomplishment. No wonder Princeton offers West a big salary.

Surely the most inane part of Ms. AndermanÂ’s puff piece pertains to WestÂ’s discussion of Princeton president TighmanÂ’s likely reaction to his rap album. Ms. Anderman quotes West:

“I think she’ll be much more open than Brother Summers,” he says. “The hip-hop scared him. It’s a stereotypical reaction.”

These are quite possibly the dumbest, most self-serving remarks ever uttered. West wants to blame “Brother Summers’” negative reaction to his un-scholarly garbage on racism.

Although Ms. Anderman, of course, lets this ridiculousness remain unchallenged, its obtuseness is clearer than day. Just imagine West produced a bluegrass album instead of a rap LP. Would “Brother Summers” have reacted with glee? Obviously not, but West must play the race card to justify his pernicious shenanigans.

As if it weren’t sufficiently clear years ago, West’s latest activity demonstrates that he’s a pseudo-scholar and panjandrum tired of the rigors of producing serious intellectual work. He’s an embarrassment to Princeton and an embarrassment to the black community. Surely the most prominent black professor in the US ought to be known for his scholarly contributions and not his collaborations with “Rhymefest.”

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Our Glorious Police State

Recently, dear reader, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” have been ruminating on the possibilities of a Democratic loss in the 2008 presidential election. Although, as we mentioned, the current political climate favors their victory, we have a hunch that the Democratic presidential contenders may just blow their chances, chiefly because the American public will find their views on foreign policy insufficiently serious.

But we donÂ’t think that Democratic dovishness serves as the only impediment to a win in 2008. Rather, a letter to the editor in the August 7 number of The Boston Globe demonstrates another way in which the Left in this country seems fatally disconnected from the political mainstream.

The missive in question was penned by one Nancy Murray, whose tagline informs us that she’s the “director of education at ACLU of Massachusetts.” Pertaining to the new congressionally-approved surveillance law, the epistle reads as follows:

If we want to preserve what is left of our civil liberties, we may have to keep Congress in session year round. Not that the legislative branch is doing a good job preserving checks and balances -- far from it. But it appears that all it takes is an impending recess and cranking up the politics of fear for the executive branch to get its way.

As Charlie Savage pointed out in yesterday's Globe, the last time Congress gave the president what he wanted so that they could stampede out of town for a recess, we got the Military Commissions Act of 2006. An amendment that would have preserved the 500-year-old right of habeas corpus lost by just a handful of votes. Ten months later, with the Democrats "in control," we still haven't reversed that decision.

If it takes fear to motivate Congress, maybe each member should be sent a DVD of the 1998 Hollywood film about the National Security Agency, "Enemy of the State." That may be the only hope we have of saving our fundamental freedoms.

If you ask us, this letter speaks volumes about the paranoid delusions of the Democratic base—delusions that may prove off-putting to many moderate voters. First, you’ll note the histrionic tone of the missive’s introduction: “If we want to preserve what is left of our civil liberties….” Ah, yes: So few of our civil liberties remain. Big Brother is upon us. We inhabit a proto-totalitarian state. No wonder we all walk around under constant police and CIA surveillance.

One also has to enjoy Ms. Murray’s take on constitutional checks and balances—a take that demonstrates a curious ignorance of the workings of the American government. According to Ms. Murray, the legislative branch is not “doing a good job of persevering checks and balances” because it is agreeing with the executive branch.

You see, to Ms. Murray, our system of checks and balances requires that the legislative branch incessantly stymie the executive branch—or at least when Republicans make up the executive branch. An odd view of American democracy, is it not?

Yet perhaps nothing’s as delicious as Ms. Murray’s warning to Congress to view some lame Hollywood flick in order to jumpstart their hatred of the Bush administration. This is the advice of ACLU Massachusetts’ “director of education”? No wonder she seems so strikingly uninformed on our Police State.

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The Last Refuge ofÂ…Everyone

Those who follow current events in these here United States of America undoubtedly recognize that certain political arguments reappear with irksome regularity. For instance, our beloved friends on the Left love to bring out the “chickenhawk” argument any time our country engages in a military conflict that isn’t to their liking.

As such, to our left-wing pals, you’re a “chickenhawk” if you are a non-veteran who supports the Iraq War, but magically you’re not a “chickenhawk” if you are a non-veteran who supported the Kossovo War. Makes sense, eh?

But, of all the myriad recurring arguments in American political discourse, our least favorite amounts to any example of the patriotism charge. In fact, with the presidential election continuing full-steam, the very word “patriotism” sends shivers down our spines. It’s kind of like when we hear the ominous phrase “Billy Joel.”

You know the patriotism argument, dear reader. ItÂ’s used by all sides of the political spectrum. And, to be downright honest, itÂ’s more likely to be implied reflexively than charged outright.

Every once in a great while, some hayseed may actually charge that, say, those who deplore the American invasion of Iraq are un-patriotic. This, of course, is standard recourse to the patriotism argument.

More often, however, one brings up the patriotism charge in a more cunning and less direct fashion. For instance, one could claim that one’s opponents charge one of un-patriotic sentiment for opposing the American invasion of Iraq—even though no one has really done so.

This, we think, is the chief use of the patriotism charge—erroneously charging others with casting oneself as un-patriotic. Hence one sees ridiculous bumper stickers (pardon the redundancy) with slogans such as “Dissent Is Patriotic” and “Peace Is Patriotic.” The idea, of course, is that others disagree and are casting aspersions in your general direction—even though they’re not, and you brought up the patriotism argument yourself.

We, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” collectively say: Enough. Enough of the stupid recourse to dimwitted concerns about patriotism. We’re simply sick and tired (in that order) of people playing the patriotism card. Doesn’t anyone play the race card anymore?

So, for the purposes of our sanity, weÂ’re fully willing to assert that everybody is patriotic. Every last one of us. Even if youÂ’re an illegal immigrant with love for Al Qaeda, you love America. Land of the brave, and so forth.

If you think Scott Thomas Beauchamp’s dubious stories about his experiences in Kuwait are fantastic, you’re a patriot. If you love Yearly Kos activists shouting down servicemen, you’re a patriot. Even if you’re an inveterate “chickenhawk,” you’re a patriot.

Now that weÂ’ve gotten that out of the way, can we move on to more substantial arguments? You know, like John EdwardsÂ’ haircuts?

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Virgin Territory

We, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” naturally consider ourselves intellectuals. After all, we run one of the most thought-provoking “websites” on Al Gore’s Internet—of course we’re deep thinkers.

Accordingly, dear reader, the humble headquarters of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly” receives all sorts of serious periodicals: Social Text; New Left Review; Cracked; Black Hair Care; &c. But one particular journal seems head and shoulders above the rest in its intellectual content.

We refer, of course, to Seventeen magazine. Perhaps, dear reader, you are unaware of Seventeen. If so, there’s a darn good chance that you fail to pepper each of your sentences with umpteen “likes” and “you knows.” And that is, like, so, like, lame.

In essence, Seventeen purports to be aimed at seventeen-year-old girls. In reality, the magazine chiefly attracts so-called “tween” girls, since seventeen-year-olds have already outgrown Seventeen in favor of Cosmo or The Anorexic Weekly.

Regardless, like any girl’s fashion magazine, Seventeen focuses on the higher things in life. If by “higher things in life” you mean shopping, flirting, and encouraging bulimia. And we certainly do.

Anyway, one of the distaff staffers here at “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly”—let’s just call her “Chip”—spied a particularly interesting survey found in the pages of the August 2007 number of Seventeen. Found on page 126 of said issue—and not available on the World-Wide Web—this survey is titled “Are You Sure You’re Still a Virgin?”

Well, gee: Last we checked. But thanks for asking.

Along with the survey results comes the following helpful information:

Not everyone agrees on what it means to “lose it,” so we teamed up with Sexetc.org to survey nearly 15,000 of you on your definition.

We know what you’re thinking, dear reader: “What were the results? We’ll just die if we don’t’ get to know what it means to ‘lose it.’” Well, here are a few percentages pertaining to the question “What makes you not a virgin?”

According to the aforementioned teens surveyed, 29% believe that giving or receiving oral sex disqualifies you from virgin status. No wonder President Clinton proved so popular with the younger crowd. Given this low percentage, we’re curious how many teens know what the definition of “is” is—another Clinton specialty.

76% of the teens believed that one is no longer a virgin if “a penis enters your vagina at all.” More interestingly, 99% believe that one cannot claim to be a virgin if you have experienced “vaginal intercourse with ejaculation.”

Uh, only 99%? Does this mean that 1% of the teens surveyed have no clue what the word “virgin” means? Or is 1% of the sample severely retarded? (Both strike us as reasonable propositions.)

Perhaps these benighted teens believe that youÂ’re still a virgin until you sleep with Charlie Sheen. If so, weÂ’d wager that roughly 30% of the girls surveyed are still virgins.

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“The Hatemonger’s Quarterly”—Political Kingmaker?

By now, dear reader, you have undoubtedly heard about the so-called Yearly Kos convention. This particular get-together, which is, interestingly enough, annual, features a bevy of far Left “webloggers” who spend a few days reveling in their love for John Conyers, trading ways to assassinate Republicans, and pining for a bloodbath in Iraq. You know, normal stuff.

But this year was a bit different from most. You see, the presidential election is coming apace, and thus all the Democratic candidates—save Joe Biden—showed up at the Yearly Kos festivities to suck up to the so-called “netroots.” Makes sense, huh: The “netroots” sure treated Ned Lamont well. Thanks to them, Uncle Ned catapulted to a catastrophic defeat in the latest Connecticut election for Senate.

Quite frankly, dear reader, we seldom read the Daily Kos, the popular left-wing “weblog” that, interestingly enough, put on the Yearly Kos event. Although we like our share of crazy left-wing rants, we just don’t find the Daily Kos user-friendly. In order to get to the good (read: Crazy) bits, you have to wade through umpteen dull “posts” about polling data and electoral minutiae. No thanks: Arianna Huffington’s zaniness is just a click away.

Yet the ability of the Yearly Kos gala to draw in almost the entire Democratic field—despite the loud protests of a typically stentorian Bill O’Reilly—struck us as revealing. From our reading of the media reports on the event, the Yearly Kos convention specializes in defrocking and booting out American servicemen. And yet for some reason it’s a tremendous success.

Are you, dear reader, thinking what we’re collectively thinking? You know: A first-annual “Hatemonger’s Quarterly” convention?

Yeah, probably not. We didnÂ’t think you were.

But it could be a complete smash. Just imagine it: A well-coiffed John Edwards stands behind an official “Hatemonger’s Quarterly” podium, speaking into an official “Hatemonger’s Quarterly” microphone and delivering a stump speech on the evils of hypocrisy. Sounds rather good, does it not?

We could even get corporate sponsorship for our convention, until some enraged television pundit (weÂ’re thinking of you, Keith Olbermann) pitches a fit and compels Chia-Pet to drop its erstwhile support. Obama can give a rousing speech about his rousing foreign policy inexperience, and Hillary Clinton can step up to the mic and seem as stiff and wooden as always.

Oh, itÂ’ll be just magical. If only we had about, oh, five hundred thousand more readers a day. Then weÂ’d really be cooking with gas.

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To Each OneÂ’s Own Facts, or One Reason Alec Baldwin IsnÂ’t Very Smart

Apparently Alec Baldwin has never heard of Richard Armitage. We say this, dear reader, because Mr. BaldwinÂ’s latest Huffington Post rant on the Valerie Plame brouhaha demonstrates a shocking ignorance of the case at hand.

In his recent “posts” for the Huffy Po, Mr. Baldwin has been outlining for his readers various goals that he would set for himself were he the next president of the United States. According to the latest “post” in this deeply enlightening series, Mr. Baldwin says he would “prosecute whoever is responsible for outing Valerie Plame as a CIA agent.”

Uh, okay, Mr. Baldwin. That would be Richard Armitage, Colin PowellÂ’s erstwhile underling. You did know that, didnÂ’t you?

In addition, perhaps someone should let you know that a fellow named Patrick Fitzgerald served as the special prosecutor regarding the Plame affair. Interestingly, as it turns out, he did not charge anyone with the outing of Valerie Plame. This was surely the result of the fact that Ms. PlameÂ’s CIA career was well known around Washington and, in addition, Mr. Fitzgerald could not prove that Mr. Armitage had leaked her name to Bob Novak with any sort of malice.

Gosh, youÂ’d think that Mr. Baldwin would have studied up on such details before writing a paragraph like the following:

Robert Novak will go to his grave with the disgrace of having served as the handmaiden of this heinous act, but his time has already passed. Those in government who are responsible must be prosecuted. The integrity of our government is always imperiled when men like Bush and Cheney are at the wheel. But the Plame affair puts all of us on notice. Political acts of this nature are the bailiwick of communists and fascists, not Americans whose country fights for freedom and democracy this very day in a foreign land, spending billions upon billions of dollars and sacrificing the lives of brave men and women in the process. Valerie Plame was a soldier in that war, too. We owe her all that we owe any American who serves this country.

We know what youÂ’re thinking, dear reader: Geez. Even for an actor Alec Baldwin is coming across as a complete moron. When you can out-dumb your average thespian, youÂ’ve really accomplished something.

But we mention this, dear reader, not because it proves that Alec Baldwin isnÂ’t exactly a brain surgeon. On its own, thatÂ’s a rather unremarkable discovery. In fact, we think you could come to such a conclusion from merely eyeballing Mr. Baldwin.

Rather, we thought Mr. Baldwin’s “post,” and umpteen comments on it, demonstrate the great mental disconnect between the far Left and the rest of the American political spectrum. From what we can tell, it appears as if our far-lefty pals have extraordinarily different versions of the Plame affair in their head.

What else would lead them to ignore Richard ArmitageÂ’s role in the brouhaha? What else would lead them to suspect that Joe Wilson was a completely objective fellow who wasnÂ’t sent to Niger by his wife?

We sincerely hope that these studied misunderstandings are to be found among the radicals alone. But this sort of nonsense doesnÂ’t bode well for the future of American politics. If everyoneÂ’s dealing with his own set of facts, weÂ’re highly unlikely to accomplish anything of value. Nietzsche might be happy with this state of affairs, but we ought not applaud.

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How Will They Do It Again?

Let’s be downright honest: The current political situation in this country strongly favors a Democratic victory in the 2008 presidential election. Although the economy is doing fairly well—though not the housing market, it seems—it is safe to say that most Americans are feeling their share of Bush fatigue. (Insert tasteless yuk pertaining to the phrase “Bush fatigue” here.)

Yet we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” have the sneaking suspicion that the Democrats may just ruin things again and lose a very winnable election. (Perhaps we should call this Gary Hart Syndrome?)

In fact, we’ve made this case before on the popular “weblog” Wizbang. And more recent evidence leads us to conclude that the Democrats are in more trouble than one might expect. Not more trouble than Lindsey Lohan, mind you, but trouble nonetheless.

To alter a Clintonian turn of phrase, it’s the foreign policy, stupid. On a whole host of issues—social security, abortion, healthcare, Slim Jims, &c.—the American public leans closer to the Democrats than the Republicans. Yet citizens of these here United States of America reasonably question the Dems on one crucial topic: Foreign policy.

Quite frankly, the Democratic presidential contenders express views on foreign policy that appear to fit into one of two camps: Unmitigated pacifism (Kucinich, Gravel) or self-contradictory confusion (everyone else). If you ask us, the Democratic candidate whose views on the topic make the most sense is Joe Biden. Even though we consider many of his positions incorrect, at least itÂ’s clear he knows what heÂ’s talking about. And his hair plugs are pretty fantastic.

Yet Senator Biden is not a top-tier candidate. (YouÂ’ll find more Indians in 7-11 than Bidens in the White House.) Hillary Clinton is top-tier, and she appears to vacillate between hawkishness and dovishness in a bewildering combination that simply reeks of John Kerry. DonÂ’t her advisors see this as a bit of a problem?

And Barack Obama? Puh-lease. One minute he says heÂ’ll blithely chat with the leaders of Iran, Syria, and North Korea without any parameters, and the next heÂ’s talking tough about invading Pakistan. Can anyone figure this man out?
Perhaps this merely demonstrates the degree to which the legacy of the Vietnam War has crippled the Democratic Party. Most of its elected officials seem unable to believe that American power can be a force for good—unless, of course, it is flexed in circumstances that do not in any way relate to national interests. (Hello, Darfur.)

So, if youÂ’re a Republican, you may want to get that popcorn ready and enjoy another Democratic implosion. Al GoreÂ’s stunning 2000 loss was pretty remarkable on its own. But, if the Dems donÂ’t get serious about foreign policy in this time of terrorism, their defeat in 2008 will be even more incredible.

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Pro-Life, Pro-Death

Gosh, we really ought not read Newsweek. ItÂ’s ineluctably a tragic mistake. Upon picking up this uppity version of People magazine, our blood pressure magically rises through the roof.

What, you may reasonably be wondering, makes Newsweek so bothersome? Oh, the answers to that query are so numerous that we hardly know where to begin. But, we suppose, we ought to start with one of NewsweekÂ’s long-time columnists, Anna Quindlen.

You know Anna Quindlen, dear reader. SheÂ’s NewsweekÂ’s liberal soccer mom. By means of her folksy suburban charm, she supports myriad moderate blue state causes. And for some reason, we find her upper-middle-class Caucasian editorial sanctimony enraging. Why, after all, should we endure browbeating about tax rates from a woman who seems primed to jump in her mini-van and pick up little Zack and Nigel from yoga?

In fact, we have the sneaking suspicion that Ms. Quindlen could compel us to become activists for any cause, provided sheÂ’s opposed to it. Gravity? Well, if Ms. Quindlen supports gravity, weÂ’ll happily campaign against it. Isaac Newton was a quack as far as weÂ’re concerned.

We say this, dear reader, after taking in “How Much Jail Time?”, Ms. Quindlen’s most recent orgy of sanctimony, which is found in the August 6 number of Newsweek. For our whole lives, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” have been resolutely pro-choice. And yet Ms. Quindlen’s column has compelled us to wish we were staunch pro-lifers. We’re not, of course, but we sure wish we were.

Why, just take in the first few paragraphs of Ms. QuindlenÂ’s article:

Buried among prairie dogs and amateur animation shorts on YouTube is a curious little mini-documentary shot in front of an abortion clinic in Libertyville, Ill. The man behind the camera is asking demonstrators who want abortion criminalized what the penalty should be for a woman who has one nonetheless. You have rarely seen people look more gobsmacked. It's as though the guy has asked them to solve quadratic equations. Here are a range of responses: "I've never really thought about it." "I don't have an answer for that." "I don't know." "Just pray for them."

You have to hand it to the questioner; he struggles manfully. "Usually when things are illegal there's a penalty attached," he explains patiently. But he can't get a single person to be decisive about the crux of a matter they have been approaching with absolute certainty.

The proper response to this self-important palaver is: Oh, just shut up. We pine to be pro-life, so we could tell Ms. Quindlen what the proper punishment for having an abortion should be.

After all, why couldn’t abortion be among the numerous crimes that hardly ever earn prosecution? You know, like immigration violations. Don’t we merely champion illegal immigrants in this country as part of our “diverse” nation’s workforce?

But, heck: If Anna Quindlen wants to know the appropriate punishment for an abortion, here it is: The death penalty. ThatÂ’ll teach those ladies to respect life.

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Public Education IsÂ…

In previous installments of this humble “weblog,” we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” have decried the patent idiocy of numerous bumper stickers. If you ask us—and, technically speaking, you have not—bumper stickers are nothing but vehicular eyesores.

Now, a careful perusal of this humble “weblog” will lead you to believe that left-leaning slogans particularly irk us. Sure, we may pretend to disdain bumper stickers tout court, but we keep mentioning those emblazoned with left-wing shibboleths as particularly loathsome.

But not today, dear reader. Not today.

For, on his way to work a few short days ago, one of the senior editors here at “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly”—let’s just call him “Chip”—spied a rip-roaring right-wing bumper sticker that may rank up at the top of most obtuse slogans ever imagined. Slapped on an appropriately folksy pickup truck, it offered a rather frightening message. To be downright honest, “Chip” wondered how unhinged the fellow who put on this sticker must be.

Its message? The bumper sticker read as follows:

Public Education Is Child Abuse

We know what youÂ’re thinking, dear reader: Wow. What a complete crazy person.

As much as we find fault with much of the public education status quo in this country—the teachers unions, the red tape, Judith Butler, &c.—we simply can’t understand why anyone rational would pine to shut down all our nation’s public schools. But the guy in this pickup truck didn’t merely plump for school vouchers; he aimed to annihilate American public education wholesale.

Although this sentiment on its own is completely bonkers, the bumper sticker in question even manages to up the crazy factor from this preternaturally high level. For it proclaims that public education isn’t merely bad, but is akin to “child abuse.”

Child abuse? Dear Lord. WeÂ’re glad we didnÂ’t attend school with this guy. WeÂ’re not quite sure what they were teaching there, but they must have messed up something horrible.

In fact, this bumper sticker comes across as so hyperbolic that one wonders whether its owner recognizes what child abuse is. Perhaps heÂ’s an unrepentant child abuser himself, and thus aims at a bit of self-exoneration by proffering a dubious connection between child abuse and, say, the University of Michigan.

And, as we all know, such a connection is only valid in regard to MichiganÂ’s WomenÂ’s Studies Department.

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An Officer WhoÂ’s Not a Gentleman

We, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” have long supported police officers against their myriad detractors. If you ask us, police work is a tough job, and it’s far easier to criticize policemen’s efforts than to keep the streets safe yourself. Accordingly, in many instances we’ve figuratively (and literally) bent over backward to defend the cops.

Ah, but a run-in with a particular member of the force last week has well-nigh compelled us to think twice about our incessant cheerleading for the police. Though we have yet to join arms with the All-Cops-Are-Thugs crowd, we must admit that weÂ’re having our second thoughts.

Allow us to set the scene. It was around 11:30pm on a Friday night and one of the junior editors here at “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly”—let’s just call him “Chip”—was standing in front of an apartment building waiting for a gal to give him a ride. This gal had just spent an evening with “Chip,” and made a brief pit-stop at her apartment before the two would head off to her car. As such, she left “Chip” standing in front of her complex watching her purse whilst she, presumably, used the facilities.

Under these circumstances, a lone figure approached “Chip” on the road. Clad in a baseball jersey, this fellow walked up to “Chip” and menacingly brayed, “Can I help you?”

To which “Chip,” unaware of who this fellow was, replied, “No.”

And then “Chip’s” interlocutor asked with an intense look, “Why are you here?” “Chip” responded, “To wait for my friend.”

The fellow continued. “Who’s your friend?” “Chip” replied, “A friend from college.” “A friend from college?” asked the interlocutor.

At this point, “Chip” was a bit taken aback. Who was this guy who kept asking these questions? Why was he asking these questions? Why would he think it would be safe for “Chip” to offer him some specifics?

Soon after his last query, however, the man unbuttoned his baseball jersey a tad and flashed a police officer’s badge underneath. As he did so, he stared at “Chip” with haughty resolve.

In response, “Chip,” no longer worried about this guy’s intentions, informed him exactly why he was waiting in front of the apartment complex and for whom he was waiting. Without so much as a smile, the cop said, “Just curious.” And then he himself disappeared into the apartment complex. Once the gal for whom he was waiting returned, “Chip” learned that this police officer owned the apartments.

Clearly, this isnÂ’t exactly an example of Darrel Gates-like brutality. But itÂ’s irksome nonetheless. How poorly trained was this pathetic officer?

Why didn’t he merely come up to “Chip” and ask: “Excuse me, sir, I’m the owner of this apartment complex. Can I help you with anything?” Had he done so, “Chip” would have understood the cop’s intentions and answered him fully.

Instead, the dimwitted police officer was needlessly confrontational, itching to show off his badge to a civilian. Having found out—surprise, surprise—that his non-inebriated preppy interlocutor was not, in fact, a thief or a pimp, he didn’t even apologize for the confusion, but stomped off before “Chip” could get a word in edgewise.

Well, color us Rodney King. CanÂ’t we all just get along?

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Total Breakdown

As happens with some regularity, dear reader, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” took a gander at a collection of our most recent “posts” and recognized that something was missing. Largely thanks to our continued nattering about political matters, we haven’t offered up a good thrashing in some time.

You know: A primo excoriation. A cornucopia of contumely. A Buster Douglas, if you will.

It is with great aplomb (and a few plums), then, that we get down to brass tacks and deliver up a sound drubbing. Let the games begin. And we think youÂ’ll agree that this hectoring is well deserved.

Now, as citizens of these here United States of America, we know full well how little people agree these days. Partisanship is all the rage. Which, according to professional loony-tune Ralph Nader, is odd, since apparently thereÂ’s no difference between any politicians except for Mr. Nader himself. Funny, that.

Even though we cannot, pace Rodney King, all get along, we can certainly see eye-to-eye about one thing. From Alabama to Arkansas, from Oklahoma to Ohio, and from one state you wouldnÂ’t dare live in to another state you wouldnÂ’t dare live in, this phenomenon irks us all.

We refer, dear reader, to people who drive in a highwayÂ’s breakdown lane during traffic jams. Sure, itÂ’s a niggling distress, but it bothers all the same. Kind of like that silly North Korean dictator.

After all, such roadside theatrics are a giant snub to law-abiding drivers everywhere. The breakdown-lane speeder might as well say to us: “Hey, losers, you can sit in traffic all day with your pathetic lives, but I’ve got to be places.”

To alter Jerry Seinfeld ever so slightly, who are these people who drive in the breakdown lane? What are they—secretary of state? How much of a jackass do you have to be to believe that your business is far more important than that of everyone else waiting in traffic?

If you ask us, only medical emergencies and sincere car failures warrant a trip to the breakdown lane. Other than that, folks should have the opportunity to shoot at people who take this sordid root.

Maybe itÂ’s a bit extreme, but just sit in stop-and-go traffic for a few hours and we think youÂ’ll see it our way.

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Introducing the Feminist-Approved Bad Date Buy-Back Plan

If we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” know anything about feminists, it’s that they’re almost preternaturally fair. Not for them the naked power play. (Or the naked anything else, for that matter.) Nope: Our feminist pals care only about making the world a more equitable place.

For this reason, dear reader, our feminist buddies would never, say, feminize education in the United States to such an extreme extent that girls routinely outperform boys at nearly every mark of intellectual achievement. And, having done so, they certainly wouldn’t continue with their anti-male education reforms—until, it seems, American boys become nothing but knuckle-dragging illiterates.

But surely the greatest example of female concern for fair play relates to the so-called gender pay gap. You know all about that: According to our feminist friends, American women earn less than two cents for every male dollar. Or some such.

ItÂ’s kind of a fiscal version of the feminist rape myth: Eight out of every seven girls have been the victim of a sexual assault. And nine out of every seven perpetrators have been Duke lacrosse players.

In deference to feminist concern over the gender pay gap, we have devised our own little system to redress the disgraceful economic inequity of the sexes. After all, every female construction worker can easily outperform her male colleagues: Why shouldnÂ’t she get equal pay?

Okay, so former NOW board member Warren Farrell has demonstrated that women receive lower salaries because they work fewer hours, take more vacations, and, overall, tend to be less valuable employees. That shouldnÂ’t stop them from taking home half of the bacon, now should it?

But enough about that. Allow us to explain the basics of our system. We call it the Bad Date Buy-Back Plan, and weÂ’re sure youÂ’ll agree itÂ’s a beacon of fiscal fairness. Pretty soon, Ms. magazine will offer its official endorsement, weÂ’ll bet.

So, how does it work? Well, as we said before, feminists care about nothing so much as economic gender equality. And, since theyÂ’re clamoring to earn as much as the stronger sex, we figure that theyÂ’ll soon aim to address the disparities in social spending between men and women.

That is to say, regardless of our countryÂ’s famously successful feminist movement (you go, girl), men routinely pay for dates with women. (Huh: For some reason Andrea Dworkin never addressed that issue. Go figure.) If we are going to make America into a beacon of gender Communism, we canÂ’t very well let that go unresolved.

And hereÂ’s where our Bad Date Buy-Back Plan kicks in. Males should keep tabs of all the extra money they spend on their lady friends. Anytime their relationships end, they simply supply their former gal pal with a bill to be paid in full.

Yep: With our plan, women finally will be able to feel the exciting rush of economic self-sufficiency. No longer will they be forced to lean on the financial arms of their significant others. In short, no more free drinks, no more free dinners. Free at last!

Why do we have the sneaking suspicion that our feminist buddies won’t hurry to address this issue? Perhaps they’ll rush to this matter right after they take issue with the sexist term “garbage man.” We mean, come on: Can’t women remove garbage for a living too?

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We No Longer Have the Power

(Note: We have the sneaking suspicion that this “post” will be amongst the very least read animadversions in our humble “weblog’s” history. And, given our storied number of outright bombs, that’s saying something.)

Politics, politics, politics. Can’t we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” discuss anything else? In recent months, we’ve offered a heavier dollop of political commentary than in days past—and it’s high time we broke up this veritable e-monopoly a little bit.

As such, dear reader, in today’s humble “post,” we shall refrain from excoriating Dennis Kucinich for being a dangerous utopian and from chastising Stephen Colbert for turning his television program into a 30-minute humor therapy session for distraught Democrats. Instead of such typical topics, today we’ll tackle something less ideological, albeit equally nugatory.

If you are sufficiently old, dear reader, you’ll recall the quick rise and demise of New Coke. Originally deemed the future of soft drinks, this horrid beverage wound up one of the greatest disasters in the history of beverages. And, yes, that counts Tahitian Treat. Or that clear Pepsi—remember that junk? Even a trendy Van Halen-inflected advertising campaign couldn’t rescue that liquid clunker.

We mention New Coke (the very antithesis to BritainÂ’s New Labour) because a recent trip to the greengrocer has well nigh given us visions of a New Coke-esque catastrophe. ItÂ’s not pretty, but itÂ’s true.

Allow us to set the scene. Like all sentient beings, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” love Power Bars, the surprisingly filling snack with dubious health benefits. More specifically, we esteem the chocolate flavored Power Bars, far preferring them to, say, peanut butter, malt nut, or purple crayon.

Ah, yes: The chocolate Power Bar is as close to ambrosia as youÂ’ll get when consuming 170mgs of potassium. They are, in a word, good.

Imagine our collective surprise in the grocery store, therefore, when we noticed that the idiots in charge of chocolate Power Bars (Nestle, as it turns out) have tinkered with their heavenly formula. To be more specific, the chocolate flavored Power Bars boast a new “C2 Max higher-octane carb blend” that offers “more sustained energy to muscles.”

Uh, what the heck is that? A “higher-octane carb blend”? Do the folks at Nestle think that we’re a Honda Civic, for crying out loud?

So what’s the benefit of this newfangled “higher-octane carb blend”? Well, as far as we can intuit, it makes the chocolate Power Bars taste distinctly of monkey feces. And we say this with some knowledge: Since the age of 17, we’ve eaten our fair share of monkey feces. We’re not proud about it, but it’s allowed us to make this apt comparison, so we suppose it’s not all bad.

If you ask us, this horrible “high-octane” garbage is a complete disaster. You know, like an Andrew Lloyd-Weber musical, or a Roxette album.

Perhaps we can lead some sort of revolt against the “higher-octane carb blend.” A little Danish cartoon-esque riot would really send the folks at Nestle into a tizzy. If the people at Nestle prove as pusillanimous as the liberal elites are in the face of Muslim extremism, we’ll be rid of this odious new Power Bar quicker than you can say “bicep curl.”

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Lindsey Lohan-Bush?

Normally, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” pride ourselves on our imperviousness to conspiracy theories. In fact, we consider it amongst our most attractive attributes, right next to washboard abdominal muscles and an uncanny ability to croon “Danke Schoen” at karaoke events.

To be downright honest, weÂ’ve long thought that conspiracy theories are the purview of hard-left and hard-right wack-jobs. You know the sort of folk we mean: Lyndon Larouche; the readership of Counterpunch; Oliver Stone. Accordingly, weÂ’ve prided ourselves as not being amongst their sordid, sordid ranks.

And yet, and yet, and yet. Current controversies in the land of so-called “popular culture” compel us to alter our anti-conspiracy-theory line just a smidge. Although we’re not delighted to admit it, recent events have caused us to cast incredulity to the side and come up with our own dubious conspiracy theory. Allow us to elaborate.

Perhaps you have heard, dear reader, about the antics of a certain infamous jet-setting gaggle of rich party gals: Nichole Richie; Paris Hilton; Lindsey Lohan; Rip Torn; et al. If you havenÂ’t heard about them, thereÂ’s a good chance that youÂ’re illiterate and donÂ’t own a television. For the American media canÂ’t stop blathering on about their antics.

Most recently, of course, vaguely fetching train-wreck Lindsey Lohan has been arrested for driving under the influence, cocaine possession, and shooting Gary Coleman, amongst other dire offenses. And this news, naturally, comes just days after Ms. Lohan sprung herself from a rehabilitation center. (Or, as the Brits call it, a rehabilitation centre.)

According to some folks, this may merely be more proof of an obscene recklessness in the thriving B-movie actress/heiress community. Clearly, they think, these benighted ladies are completely out of control.

Not us. WeÂ’ve witnessed too many Lohan-Richie-Hilton shenanigans to chalk them up to adolescent (and post-adolescent) high jinks. Nope: We smell a rat. And weÂ’re not talking about Paris Hilton.

Okay, hereÂ’s our conspiracy theory: Lindsey Lohan, Nicole Richie, and Paris Hilton are all Bush administration shills, duty-bound to aid our Commander-in-Chief by resorting to illegal antics every time the President finds himself in a pinch. Not to put too fine a point on it, we think that these gals are agents for the maniacal neoconservatives running Washington.

Think about it. Every time you read more dirt on Attorney General Gonzales, Paris Hilton does something inane and winds up in the clink. The upside of it all? The AG no longer makes front-page headlines. Rather, Ms. Hilton pouts her way onto newspapers and televisions everywhere. Political crisis averted.

Coincidence? We collectively think not. Like socialized medicine, it just makes too much sense.

We do wonder, however, if this means that Lohan, Hilton, and Richie are Jewish. After all, if you ask our friends on the political Left, Jews are behind all conspiracies: 9/11; World War II; Howard the Duck; &c.

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Hugo Chavez, Peerless Democrat

Ah, you simply must savor the irony. Irony this delicious, this delightful doesnÂ’t rear its ugly little head that often. Thus, when it appears, we are duty bound to take it in with rapturous excitement.

We, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” refer to a recent televised statement by Venezuelan President Hugo Chavez. As even the most politically obtuse amongst us well know, Mr. Chavez is a steadfast hero to the self-proclaimed “progressive” community. They wish that President Bush could be the ardent democrat that Hugo Chavez is.

In fact, the man embodies everything that the (purportedly populist) far Left esteem: Seizure of private property; hypocritical demagoguery; &c. Since Saint Hugo disesteems the Bush administration as much as the next white-flag-waving American hippie (though his ire doesnÂ’t stop him from selling lots of oil to the US), our leftist pals are willing to give him a pass on his dubious behavior.

As such, when it was reported that President Chavez aimed to shut down an independent television station in Venezuela critical of his government, the Euro-American Left was in full Apologia Mode. Although this sounded dubious, the pundits crowed, it was actually necessary, since this network previously encouraged an anti-Chavez revolt.

Of course, if President Bush attempted to shut down the left-wing propaganda network “Democracy Now!” we wouldn’t hear similar examples of progressive apologetics. Instead, we’d enjoy taking in the same epithets already dribbling from the tongues of our lefty pals—“fascist,” “totalitarian,” “evil,” “undemocratic,” &c.

After all, we don’t remember our left-wing buddies rushing to the defense of the Bush administration when it gave the green light to bomb Al Jazeera—even though this rancid Islamist network used its broadcasts to help flash messages to Al Qaeda. Saint Hugo’s strong-arming, however, was entirely justifiable to our democracy-embracing leftists.

Well, thatÂ’s a sentiment thatÂ’s getting harder and harder to justify. A few days ago, we read the following short report in The Chicago Tribune:

CARACAS, VENEZUELA - President Hugo Chavez said Sunday that foreigners who publicly criticize him or his government while visiting Venezuela will be expelled from the country.

Chavez ordered officials to monitor statements made by international figures during their visits to Venezuela and deport any outspoken critics.

"How long are we going to allow a person -- from any country in the world -- to come to our own house to say there's a dictatorship here, that the president is a tyrant, and nobody does anything about it?" Chavez asked during his weekly television and radio program.

The Venezuelan leader's statements came after Manuel Espino, the president of Mexico's conservative ruling party, criticized Chavez in Caracas.

Oh, let the liberal hand-wringing begin! Ah, the irony: Our left-wing buddies claim to love democracy, yet go gaga for an authoritarian thug. We canÂ’t wait to see how the John Pilger, Noam Chomsky crowd exonerates Saint Hugo for this blatant totalitarianism.

Just imagine if President Bush had uttered such a repugnant sentiment about visitors to the US. How the left-wing pundits would (rightly) excoriate him for such a horrid statement! How they would have charged (rightly) that it was utterly incompatible with an open society!

Well, lefties, what do you have to say about your beloved HugoÂ’s latest machinations? Do you really believe in freedom of speech, or are you mindless shills for left-wing totalitarianism? The silence at The Nation and the op-ed page at The Guardian thus far doesnÂ’t speak well of you.

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