...Mass Hysteria, Cats and Dogs Living Together . . . More from The Corner
See what happens when you let homosexuals marry? The next thing you know, the incest laws are gone and people are getting married to immediate family members in order to cheat the inheiritance taxes. Damn gays! I guess in order to prevent a female criminal from marrying her male partner in crime we'd better ammend the Constitution or something. 10:16:46 AM  |
And I think it's great he learned this now that HE'S facing possible jail time. But here's some stuff he said about his fellow addicts at the treatment facility:
No, they weren't the dregs of society, they were the really smart sex-addicts who ran the gamut of wealth from multimillionaires to "very successful in business": you know, the salt of the earth. Rush's kind of people. Odd that the dregs weren't represented at this tony treatment center, though. I wonder what Rush wants done with them, if they're "hard-core addicted." 6:50:58 AM |
Read More About It! Yes, if you want to know more about the National Review Death Cruise, and about the NRO's wacky cast of characters, there are many books in your library on these subjects. For instance, to read more about the Al Franken/Rich Lowry dual, go here: Franken Vs. Lowry (but click on the links in Al's side to get the real story, because Rich has a little problem with telling the truth). And check out The Corner to read John Derbyshire's ruminations on the gay sex and homosexual marriage. The 18½ Minute Gap has an item we liked about Tim Graham's latest idiotic Kiddy Corner comment. To find out who thinks that John Derbyshire is really hot, in a psychotic, deranged sort of way, go here: Rittenhouse Review For the NR's Cruise itinerary, go here: Crooked Timber And there are other things going on in the world too. To find out who's cool and hip and stuff, go here: TBOGG. And to find out what other people should follow William Safire's advice to just 'fess up about the mistakes they've made about the Iraq invasion and associated matters, go here: TBOGG (okay, it's the same place--just read it all). To read Atrio's plea to the media to give some of the Michael Jackson attention to other things, like the dead soldiers in Iraq, go here: Eschaton And the new issue of Virtual Occoquan is out, featuring the best from the Salon blogs. Clarified has a fun little piece with Al Gore giving advice to Grey Davis. So, if you want to learn more, read some of this stuff. I have a fever. I'm going to rest now. 5:39:28 AM |
The National Review Death Cruise, Part 5: Forgive Me Father, For I Have MURDERED! HIGH-SEA HI-JINX [Jonah Goldberg] Well, a lot has happened on the National Review Cruise during the last few days. More murders. The uncovering of labyrinthine plots. A plan to use attack clones to fight a dual with Al Franken! Onboard gay marriages. All in all, this cruise has fulfilled all of my expectations of what a vacation should be. Let me provide you with a brief recap of my previous reports: Norman Podhoreretz was murdered -- and since only the other National Review speakers had keys to this room where he was found, it appeared that one of us was the murderer. His wife, Midge Decter, looked like the prime suspect to me, because Midge was angry that Norman was writing a book calling her boyfriend Don Rumsfeld a sissy-boy, but she claimed to have been with Jay Nordlinger all that night. Then Kate O' Beirne was murdered. I questioned Ramesh Ponnuru, since he was reportedly the last one to see Kate alive. When I told him that Mr. Buckley had charged me with investigating the deaths, he agreed to be Joe to my Frank Hardy, and told me that Kate had uncovered a secret cloning operation in the basement of the White House, and recently gone to Rome to talk to the Pope about it. Ramesh also indicated that Kate was editing Norman's book, and had learned from him about an ancient text which predicted that if the national debt ever reached the total of $666 billion, then Satan would rule the earth forever. A cabal of Lucifer-loving economists was trying to increase the debt so their master could take his place as lord of this world; a secret brotherhood of good economists were fighting them. Stephen Moore, president of the Club for Growth, was in one the two groups, but he was murdered before I could talk to him and fight out which. Ramesh was going to question the Rev. Robert Sirico, since reportedly Sirico had experience dealing with ancient texts, Satan worshippers, and the Book of Revelation. But I never learned what Ramesh found out, because when I next saw Ramesh, he was dead! Oh, and Rich Lowry is a big poopie-head. That's pretty much where I had left off. So, anyway, after finding Ramesh's body in the Crow's Nest Lounge, I decided that I'd better have a chat with the Reverend Father. I put the realistic toy gun of Rich's in my pocket, and went to Sirico's cabin. He greeted me affably enough, and invited me in -- but there was something about him I just didn't trust. Maybe it was his hypnotic gaze or his "What Would Satan Do?" wrist-band. I decided to fish for information by telling him that I had a piece due the next day and was thinking about doing it on the Acton Institute. Sirico said that he and his fellow servants of the Lord would welcome some publicity for their humble cause, and indicated that he co-founded the Institute in 1990 to train religious studies students in fundamental economics, so they could understand and address today's social problems. The Institute's mission is to promote a free and virtuous society, characterized by individual liberty and sustained by religious principles. I said that sounded great, but that I'd need a few more details to fill up a whole NRO column. He looked a bit testy, and said that he wasn't done speaking. Anyway, per Sirico, the Acton Institute endeavors to promote virtue by doing away with the welfare system, since truly virtuous individuals don't take money for doing nothing; and besides, if people are poor, it's probably their own damn fault. If somebody experiences a setback and needs a helping hand, he should go to a faith-based soup kitchen. Additionally, by encouraging the individual to be more self-reliant and faith-based, the Institute promotes liberty by reducing the tax burden of rich people. I replied that I was amazed that the Catholic church was behind something like this, since as an institution, the Church seemed kinda Marxist, and kinda against, you know, evil. Father Sirico smiled and said that while the Pope and some other Catholic officials don't agree with his work, Richard Mellon Scaife does, and his generous contributions more than made up for a lack of church support. I burst out with, "J'accuse, Father Sirico! You killed Ramesh! When I last spoke with him, he was on his way to interrogate you. And I just found him dead on a bar stool, the odor of almonds on his breath! While talking to you he must have deduced you were part of the $666 Billion Club and threatened to expose you, and so you slipped cyanide in his drink. Which was BAD! While I'm not up on Catholic teachings, I'm pretty sure the church reassigns priests who commit murder!" Father Sirico said he had indeed talked to Ramesh, and had told him everything he knew about the Last Days and the Number of the Beast, and had left Ramesh alive and well and sipping an Amaretto on the rocks. An almond-flavored (and scented) drink. "Um, so maybe Ramesh wasn't poisoned with cyanide, but he's still dead! As are Norman, Kate, and Stephen. I bet you killed Kate, 'cause she was going to tell the Pope on you. And you probably killed Stephen, to keep him from getting drunk and spilling the beans about your Satan-worshipping economics institute. And you murdered Norman because he was really, really annoying! So, Father, tell me you don't have anything to do with THEIR deaths!" Sirico said he didn't have anything to do with their deaths. He claimed that I had it all wrong, and it was the Knights Fiscal, that group organized in ancient times to guard the Book of Bob the Baptist, who were the bad guys, because the $666 billion deficit would usher in an era of peace and prosperity for everyone living at that time -- it would just be future generations who would have to worry. So, it was GOOD for the U.S. to borrow lots of money for wars and stuff, and to also lower taxes, because this prepared the way for Lucifier, who is actually a nice guy when you get to know him. And if I wasn't part of the solution, I was part of the problem. And at this point, he drew an antique dagger from sash and menaced me with it. I drew out the toy gun and menaced him right back. He said that it looked like we had achieved a stalemate, and I might as well leave his cabin in peace . . . for now. But I would have only a short time to decide if I wanted to join the $666 Billion Club and worship Satan and save on taxes, or if I wanted to die. I backed out of there in a hurry, and decided that it was now time to tell Jay Nordlinger all I knew. While Jay was boring, and officious, and a big, bossy grump -- and had done nothing but complain about his lost luggage for the whole trip -- he was, you know, fatherly. But not in a charismatically evil way, like Father Sirico. But when I knocked at his cabin door, nobody answered. I knew what this meant, and got the purser to open it for me. Yeah, Jay was in bed, dead as a doornail. And naked as a jaybird. Midge was there with him, just as dead and naked. It really was a horrifying sight! They each had big bullet holes in their chests, and there was blood everywhere. But not enough to cover up, you know, the naughty bits. While I hate to criticize my elders and betters, I do have to say that it's just basic good manners for old people to put on a robe or something if they know they're going to get murdered. In fact, I am so overcome with emotion just thinking about it that I can't go on with the story right now. But I'll take a break, have some more to drink, and get back to you with the really scandalous story about Rich. (And after he told Al Franken that "as an editor of a serious political magazine, he had a limited capacity to engage in childish stunts!" Yeah, right. Would a grown-up put Saran Wrap on my toilet seat) And about the lovely gay wedding (well, I will just drop one hint, and say that John Derbyshire met the boat in Puerto Limon with a ring in his pocket and a desire to honeymoon in Panama City). And about the rest of the murders, and the clones, and the Economic Satanists, and stuff.
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