The Great White Woodchuck Rally in Washington D.C. has concluded.
Fervidly publicized as some kind of mooncake and codswallop picnic for hundred-percenter Teabag Jesus American patrioteers the Great Beck And Call 2010 will spill away into the late summer gloam more Brut Prestige mimosa than OC gas miasma. More of a buck's fizzler than a Beck sizzler. I feel cheated. What happened to The Plan? What the hell is the plan? Where's the miracle? What about the fucking miracle! And where was Ted Nugent! What happened to Ted Nugent?
Was Mamma Grizzly afraid the Noodge would bait her into the bear garden and chain her to a locust post for future field dressing or leap out of a Landrover Defender safari vehicle dressed in a white leopard spandex catsuit weilding an early classic model 70 Winchester .375 H&H magnum bolt-action rifle and begin screaming "suck on my machine gun you scrotumless pimps and whores and geriatric welfare brats" while The Great Woodchuck himself sobs into a microphone and the entire Wingnut Be-In degenerates into some kind of neo-Altamont Speedway wang dang balagan.
I guess the Noodge got the screwdge from the FOXNoise event planning czar this time around. Honor denied. Heh, indeedy.
Nevertheless, the whole sleepy monotonous drone-fest managed to ramble on as planned and succeeded in attracting somewhere around 80-90 thousand spoon-fed votaries of one kind of conservative taxonomic category or another to the National Mall and thats something in and of itself I suppose. Although, as they say (whoever they are): "one swallow does not make a summer".
In any case, I'm sure Glenn Beck will be sobbing for joy all the way to the offshore bank. And Princess Wee-Wee of Wasilla will be crying whee!-whee!-whee! all the way home.
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16 comments:
honoring the almighty DOLLAR.
maybe i should twit my bon mots. i am brief.
My intuition suggests that Beck wants to lead a movement but he doesn't have the slightest idea where to lead anybody--to the moon? To the cliffs? He has the Outer Workings in good order: he can cry (with a little help) on cue, he can raise his voice in anger to hammer home his observations, he can transition from Holy Roller to Major Mocker in an instant--heck, he may even learn how to evangelize, but he can't put any potatoes in the potato sack. And if he gets people riled up but has no place to ultimately take them, he may do something really stupid, like start to believe his own blather.
Today I think of Beck as a paper rectum, with his followers as a barrel of hot, fiber-intensive chili making its way down the large intestine. Good luck with that.
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he's an attention whore. he had no talent for music, but sniffed around them as a DJ/zoo dude. it's all about LOOK AT MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! mommy didn't breast feed him did she.
Having just been to China, I can say that actual moon cakes can be pretty delicious and not at all like Glenn Beck.
hi Mandos: thanks for mentioning that. Now check out this wiki link for an explanation of why i mentioned them:
ming revolution mooncakes
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My intuition suggests that Beck wants to lead a movement but he doesn't have the slightest idea where to lead anybody--to the moon?
MJS: I think the whole Beck thang (and this relates to the mooncake reference somewhat too) is more like that scene from A Christmas Story where Ralphie gets his Orphan Annie secret message decoder tool in the mail and decodes what he hears over the radio which winds up being just an advertisement telling him to drink more Ovaltine. Remember that? That is what Beck is... thats his message too... an advertisement. So all the wingnuts bought the secret decoder tool and headed to Washington to hear the secret message which was delivered just to them, just for them... and what they got was an advertisement telling them to drink more FOX News kool-ade and keep listening to the Glenn Beck Show.
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farmer: that was interesting. Somehow I don't think that the Beckians are clever enough to put together 16 pieces of mooncake into a sekrit message. I guess that's where the codswallop comes in.
That's definetly where the codswollop comes in. But I think that the wingnuts who showed up for Becks little hootenanny really thought they were each going to get a mooncake made special just for them (because thats how the whole thing was advertised).
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at mention of a egg yolk, i'll pass.
ppoo
Your point makes absolute sense, decoder ring and all. But I can't help but suspect that Beck may fall for his own con, and end up believing his hooey. Many eggs can come from that: he could become angrier when he finds out he's still just a shuck and jive act, or he becomes more entranced with his own reflection and drowns in the opaque pool of his own turbid ego. Or... who knows? Perhaps he will push his psyche beyond the Wild Lands--if this mad little pig-boy sees past the doors of perception but hasn't laid a proper foundation he just might start eating wallpaper. More popcorn please.
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Movement my ass. Beck would read from Mao's Little Red Book and dress in an olive-drab uniform on stage if he thought there was any money in it.
They once asked Willie Sutton why he robbed banks. He replied, "Because that's where the money is!"
...and dress in an olive-drab uniform on stage if he thought there was any money in it.
well, i dunno about that... oh, wait...
nevermind
If you see Fox as a giant bowel, Beck is definitely a movement.
best description, but a very LOUD turd.
but a very LOUD turd
makes a BIG splash.
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i was thinking more drippy and smelly.
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