Less Ye Be Judged
(4/18/05) - Alright, alright. So Satan only wanted the Pope to move in, not Falwell. But hey, he's still sick and fat. Maybe we'll get lucky.
Something really pissed me off two weeks ago that I tried to put out of mind but reading about Hunter S. Thompson's account of W. going to a Superbowl party of his in 1974 and being here in North Carolina for a week now where I am surrounded by the most massive collection of paisty white yuppie larva that makes the fartknockers at Halcyon look Mexican, I've found a rekindling of that hatred.
I think The Simpsons was on commercial so we switched over to The News Hour and Jim Lehrer passed it off to some big-haired blonde bimbo doing a retrospective on Thompson. She proudly compaired herself to Norman Mailer, Hunter S. Thompson and some other of her "contemporaries" who made their journalistic mark in the 1960s and 70s and commented on how great the guys are, but then brought her daughter into the story. Sweet huh?
She wondered what to tell her little girl about Thompson when she asked if he was someone to look up to. Then she went on an anti-drug tirade and separated Thompson's work from his lifestyle in stating it is important to let children know they shouldn't admire people who live a life of drug and alcohol abuse and that they are not "cool" and Thompson's end represents the life he chose.
Now I could go off on a tirade about soccermoms and the irrelevance of their legally medicated opinions to reality, but I think I know the best way to evaluate this woman's judgement of Thompson....I'm sorry...the best way to evaluate this "contemporary's" judgement of our Gonzo leader:
What was her name? I don't remember and no one else will either.