Thoughtless for the Day

Yesterday, when I was wondering how Michelle Malkin and the other mental munchkins over at FOX News were going to attempt to put a positive spin on the revelation that Scooter "Irving" Libby learned of Valerie Plame's identity from George Bush himself, I speculated that the "Special" news team would tow the standard "The President only did it to protect us" line. What I failed to predict was that Brit Hume would take a rather novel approach and employ a tactic seldom seen in debates of recent times: the Completely Bat-shit Crazy Strategy.

For your bold departure from reality, RATYHTL salutes both you and your attractive tinfoil party hat, Brit Hume!

I was really hoping for some top-notch insanity on this issue from Malkin, but she's been oddly silent about her leaky President. There is, of course, precedent for Michelle suddenly going mum. When the Abu Ghraib scandal broke, Malkin chose to ignore the story, instead spending two weeks focusing on the exploits of Courtney Love.

So, you might ask, what news story does Malkin currently think deserves more attention than he President of the United States divulging the identity of an undercover CIA agent?

NASCAR.

Or, to be more specific, a segment on Dateline NBC in which the program sent a group of Muslim men to NASCAR race in Virginia in order to see if they would be mistreated (other than having to endure sever hours of accident-free auto racing that is).

Stop for a second and think about it this. It took an undercover investigation by national news show to determine that the average NASCAR fan is a dumber-than-shit cactus-fucking racist. Shit Luther, I could've told you that, and I flunked outta my High School journalism class.

Oh, so now you're going to accuse me of stereotyping NASCAR enthusiast? Fuckin' A right I am! Look, I'm not the one sitting in the bleachers waving a "Rebel" (loser) flag while a car with Jesus Saves painted all over it continually circles before my Coors-bleary eyes. And I'm certainly sure-as-shitting not the one who pissed his pants the moment Abdul and Muhammad sat on either side of me. When I see an Ay-rab I don't think he's going to blow me up (I do, however, - based on their previous behavior - think that all rednecks have a bomb or two tucked away in their basements); I just naturally look for his taxi or convenience store.

So if you don't want to be thought of as a dumber-than-shit cactus fucker, climb down out of the bleachers, pull your dick out of that cactus, and take yourself and your drooling idiot family to the library or a museum or something. And lose that "Lee surrendered; I didn't" t-shirt.

And you Ay-rabs would like to stop being thought of as terrorists, then stop blowing shit up. All it takes is a simple "Hey Muhmar, instead of strapping a pound of TNT to our asses and exploding a bus today, how 'bout we just hang around the house? SciFi channel is showing the new Doctor Who episodes."

The only alternative is to embrace your inner stereotype. It's worked for the Irish, who used to be thought of as dangerous thugs and are now considered lovable drunks. It's also worked for Blacks, who used to be thought of as lovable drunks and are now considered dangerous thugs. The minute Black people stopped trying to be accepted by Whites and embraced the image of the Gangsta, every White kid from Kennybuckport to Kalamazoo wanted to be Black.

If them there Ay-rabs at that NASCAR race would've been smart, they would've introduced themselves by saying something like "Hello. I'm Rasmadhuda and I like to blow up Jews and oppress women." Then, instead of getting the cold trucker-tan shoulder, they would've been warmly greeted with "Hello. My name is Billy Bob and I don't give a damn what color you are, for we are truly brothers-under-the-skin, for I too have planted more than my fair share of pipe-bombs in Synagogues and whenever Darlene opens her mouth, her comments are instantly stifled by the back of my hand. Want a Coors?"