According to the mainstream press, blogs are lighting the way to what people want to read. And, given the numerical specificity that blogs can shoot back — who went where when and how long they stayed on what subject — it’s no wonder the ms press is impressed.
Not to sound like Peggy Noonan, but each blog is like a tiny point of light–forget that: Every blog is a lightning bug. Cluster enough of them in one spot, you get illumination. Primitive, yes, but back in the Civil War days it was enough to amputate by.
This nation has always been involved in some civil war, and they’re never as advertised. Incivility, then and now, is the norm. Now, as Democrats and Republicans and Naderats triangulate their massive armies around a single flag, the insults fly, but the arrows are fake, so far (but it’s early).
I see the blue team blogging like crazy (because they know html) and the red team commenting (because they don’t). I see Blues quoting and urling and backing up their arguments; I see Reds so mad they can’t think straight — they type in ALL CAPS, hit the keys so hard they leave an impression on the screen. When they calm down it’s worse. They pass around silly email “talking points” full of lies and accusations to counter the lies and accusations of their enemy, who appears to be Bill Clinton. Stuck on a blowjob. Kinda sad.
Lately I’ve been getting a lot of mail from republicists — people who enjoy trading lousy jokes via email. Last night I returned one with a few corrections. It originally involved the Clinton family until I had my way with it. I reprint it in its entirety in the hope you’ll send it “around.”
After a weekend trip home to Texas, George Bush stepped from the helicopter and onto the White House lawn. He was carrying two Texas-bred hawgs, one under each arm.
At the bottom of the steps, a young Marine snapped to attention, saluted sharply and said, “Fine looking pigs, sir!”
Bush turned and glared at the boy. “Son, don’t you know I’m from Texas? These ain’t pigs. They’re hawgs.”
The Marine shot back, “Marine begs the COMMANDER IN CHIEF’S pardon, sir! Fine looking hawgs, sir!”
Bush smiled with pride and the young man relaxed. The President went on, “Thank you, son. You see this one here?” He lifted up the pig under his right arm. “I got this one for Jenna.” Then he nodded to the hawg on his left. “And this one here, I got for Barbara.”
At that the Marine snapped back to attention and said, “Outstanding trade, sir!”
I’ve decided to rewrite every joke, every slogan, every mean or cruel misrepresentation of fact that I receive, then reflush it back into the system, not so much improved as neutered. It’s subversive, it doesn’t cost a thing, and it’s easier than actual writing.
Join me in a great crusade to wreck everything. If I get a joke about Kerry, I’ll reverse it to Bush, and vice versa. If you do the same, we lightning bugs might be able to assist the mainstream surgeons in their delicate work of limb-hacking.
It’s worth a stab.Powered by Sidelines