The World O' Crap Archive

Welcome to the Collected World O' Crap, a comprehensive library of posts from the original Salon Blog, and our successor site, (2006 to 2010).

Current posts can be found here.

Monday, August 4, 2014

Watchmen Premier At The Chinese Theater

The Owlship is a powerful crimefighting juggernaut, as long as it doesn’t get moist.
Later, workers put one of those vinyl sports car bras over the front grille.
Posted by scott on March 2nd, 2009

Paul Harvey and Harold Pinter Meet In Heaven…

…and exchange greetings.
Which one breaks the pause?
Posted by scott on March 1st, 2009

The Hartsock Of Darkness

It’s been awhile since we’ve heard from professional Young Conservative Christian Hartsock.  A quick glance at the archives shows he last bubbled to the surface of Wingnuttia back in 2006, when he was seen here, denouncing sluts, and here, complaining about “infanticidal whores” defiling his otherwise pristine (and now defunct) website,  In the interim, Young Master Hartsock has shot to fame as a film school graduate, writing and directing such pictures as They Eyes Was Watchin’ Gawd (technically not a film, but a “mock trailer adaptation of Zora Neal[sic] Hurston’s novel Their Eyes Were Watching God“).  But even though he’s been reduced to panning the tainted sluice of Tinsel Town like the rest of us glory-seekers, he hasn’t succumbed to the anti-American values so common to the industry, as one can plainly see from his resume photo:
Christian Hartsock demonstrates his immunity to the sexual importunings of a typical Hollywood skank.
And fans of Christian’s punditry will be pleased to hear that he’s keeping his rapier wit sharp on the whetstone of RenewAmerica, just in case his masterful command of  Negro dialect doesn’t translate into a career as the pasty white Tyler Perry.
MSNBC’s Chris Matthews once vented to Don Imus his cumulative frustration with presidents who own ranches, huffing: “I want a guy to run for President who doesn’t have a f**king — I’m sorry, a ranch. Wouldn’t that be good, Don, a guy who wasn’t on the ranch during Katrina, he was on the street corner answering questions?” To which Imus replied, “Why are you swearing?”
To Matthews’ credit, virtually every modern president has laid claim to a ranch — even including the current guy who was on the street corner begging for “change.”
This is a good example of what separates your average barstool philosopher from a professional online opinion columnist — a gimlet-eyed perspective that penetrates the dull patina of quotidian life.  Whereas you and I may look at Barack Obama and see the prospect of a modest improvement over the previous eight years, Master Hartsock looks at the president and sees Wino Bob, the homeless guy who lives in the oleander bush behind the 7-Eleven.
There was the Reagan Ranch in Santa Barbara, Bush’s Crawford Ranch in West Texas, and Barack Obama’s relatively new, more sprawling cattle ranch — most commonly referred to as the “mainstream media.”
One would think Matthews’ irritations would have doubled rather than subsided — if only he weren’t himself one of the ranch hands delivering the Kool-Aid-flavored milk to a mouth-watered public via the airwaves of the establishment news media. Moreover, Obama’s ranch bears less resemblance to the aforementioned presidential ranches, and is more reminiscent of the Jonestown farm or the Spahn Movie Ranch.
That’s the great thing about a bad metaphor — you can pretty much take it anywhere.
In addition, the winged creatures of Obama’s farm are mostly tropical — bearing stark resemblance to the exotic parrot what with their impulsive, redundant utterances of rhetorical talking points that are conveniently proportionate to the standard 3.5′ x 11″ bumper sticker format.
For a transcript of this metaphor, write to Department of Aphasia, Pueblo, Colorado.
It doesn’t matter that the recent incessant battle cries of the left the past few years (i.e. “Change,” “Hope,” “Progress,” “Bush Lied, People Died!”, “War for Oil,” etc.) were groundless, meaningless axioms tossed like breadcrumbs to a swarming, starving, pigeon-like public—
–pigeons who are also parrots.  And cows.  And the Manson Family.  Oh, and they’re mouth-watered, too.
the fact that they were repeated ad nauseaum was enough to sustain merit. When it comes to liberal political rhetoric, repetition outrivals reality.
While I’m sure English is Christian’s mother tongue, it’s plain to see he’s no mama’s boy.  Anyway, to be fair, I think we should pause here to note that Christian has gone 5 paragraphs without calling us Nazis.  That, along with his smiling rebuff of the Smoochy Skank, represents a remarkable display of gentlemanly restraint.
Contemporary liberals are not to be credited with the pioneering of this brilliant reductive propaganda tactic, but rather their ideological ancestors. Indeed, the Nazis were remarkably skillful in reinventing conventional wisdom to accommodate the national agenda; loudening and repeating the rhetorical drumbeat in fierce competition with the human cognitive receptivity span so as to leave zero leftover capacity therein for logical deductive evaluation.
Okay, so he didn’t call us Nazis, he just accused us of stealing the Nazis’ intellectual property.  And personally, I’m offended.  He thinks his cognitive receptivity span has zero leftover capacity now, just wait till the rest of the liberals hear about this.  Then there’ll be a loudening.
Within eight years the liberal folk tales about how George W. Bush stole the 2000 election, used 9/11 as an excuse to hold the nation hostage and erect an imperialist, colonialist empire, et cetera, were so securely stapled in the common mind by the liberal noise machine that few had the energy to actually think for themselves.
“But how can I staple minds without my noise machine…”
Hegemonic liberal mythology has frighteningly become to America what Scientology is to Hollywood: So pervasively practiced and casually embraced that its practitioners never seem to work up the incentive to register that they are worshiping an alien galactic ruler named Xenu.
So Obama has gone from homeless panhandler to homicidal galactic overlord?  Jay & the Americans were right!  This is the land of opportunity!
Were it not for the science fiction fantasy that’s been thrust upon us in the wake of Obama, George W. Bush would be written in history books as a hero who successfully spared his nation any sequels to 9/11, resurrected an image of national strength unseen since the Reagan years (systematically undone by Bill Clinton and usurped by an image of “paper tigers” — to quote Osama bin Laden’s description of Americans in 1993), and liberated Iraq from a mass-murdering, terrorist-funding serial rapist with a perennial grudge against our nation. But this is only if liberals weren’t the ones, well, writing the history books.
Yeah, but History is written by the winners.  Sorry, Christian.
Indeed, it will be and has been the liberal revisionist machine that writes the history books, teaches the history classes, makes the “historical” movies and reports the news that any leader who candidly and unflinchingly recognizes the clear and present threats relevant to those given times are and were the black-hat-sporting cowboys on the dark horses of history.
Wait, I’m lost.  Are we still Nazi Scientologist historians with mind-control staplers, or are we in a western now?
Senator Joe McCarthy recognized the horrifically real Soviet spy infestation within the highest levels of American government and is now literally written in textbooks as a reckless drunk who ruined lives and destroyed reputations —
But anyway, it’s good to have a role model.
As in McCarthy’s day, using the term “communist,” “socialist,” or “Marxist” is pervasively ridiculed and dismissed as “extremist” and “antiquated” by the same people who casually employ terms like “racist,” “theocrat,” and “fascist” to describe Republicans.
Yes, turns out the Blacklist was off-white, at most, and the “Red Scare,” was really more like a Jaycees haunted house.
When local WFTV Florida anchor Barbara West gave Joe Biden his first and only opportunity to explain to a perplexed public how Obama’s Marxist-Socialist tax plan was not reallya Marxist-Socialist tax plan (as opposed to posing questions like “How does it feel to know you are going to win this election?”), Biden laughed in her face for using the term “Marxist,” indignantly stormed off the set and subsequently sent a snobbish, cowardly letter to WFTV relieving them of their precious privileges to be graced with the Obama/Biden ticket’s presence. (WFTV should have responded by sending Biden a “Get Well Soon” card from Hallmark.)
Yes, imagine how that would have stung.
While George W. Bush moved mountains to fulfill his 2000 campaign promises to “change the tone” in Washington amongst an obstinate liberal elite — liberals’ approach to “changing the tone” in Washington is amplifying their noise volume and dismissively muffling any audible dissent as inconvenient obstacles to “hope.”
They objected to moving the mountains by a process of extraordinary rendition.
But there is no hope for a nation that would be as fiendishly disrespectful to its leader for eight years during a time of war.
Speaking of the Nazis, they remained respectful to their leader right up until the moment he shot his mistress then blew his brains out.  I trust you liberals are suitably abashed.
There is no hope for a people that would so nakedly and vulnerably throw themselves at a political candidacy such as Obama’s like an emotionally wounded, sexually frustrated harlot on the rebound spreading her knees for some seductive, womanizing prowler on a blind date.
I’m not sure, but I believe Christian thinks he just had sex with us.
To those who derisively snickered about Bush’s 2000 campaign promise to “change the tone” in Washington and to be a “uniter — not a divider”: I blame you.
This essay is sort of like Zola’s J’accuse if it were written by the doll from Child’s Play.
Bush’s unappreciated across-the-aisle diplomacy the past eight years was met with zero cooperation on your part, but with a sinister urge to exploit his inalterable graciousness that became is ultimate weakness, so much so that by his second term he was literally issuing humiliating apologies to you people for “mistakes” such as hurting our terrorist enemies’ feelings by saying “bring ‘em on.” I blame you for tyrannically exploiting the kind, diplomatic nature of a strong, heroic leader by manipulatively coercing him into replacing his cowboy hat with a kitchen apron.
So if I’m still following Master Hartsock correctly, at this point in the narrative, he’s James Dean from Rebel Without A Cause, we’re his castrating bitch of a mother, and George W. Bush is a more effeminate Thurston Howell.  Oh, and we’re tearing…him…APART….!
I blame the people who stubbornly refused to concede defeat in the 2000 election yet were jumping at the bit to concede defeat in Iraq within the first few weeks of the invasion; exhausting every resource available to undermine our troops’ morale and our commander-in-chief’s credibility during a time of war. […]  But the instant a Republican entered office insisting that he was “tired of swatting flies” and pressed for a competent response to Iraq, liberals decided that was a no-no, and would do whatever they could to upstage his efforts; innocently and cluelessly asking: “What WMDs?”
This kind of reminds me of the scene in What’s Up Tiger Lily where Shepard Wong, attempting to rally the band of Japanese spies, shouts “Banzai!” while everyone else groans, and Lovable Phil Moscowitz sighs wearily, “Banzai…Will someone please tell him…?”
Any “divisiveness” suffered by this country was liberals’ fault. Not Bush’s. But now that the media have made up their minds as to the “disgraced” mark Bush will have left on American history for standing up for us and keeping us safe for seven years following 9/11, the rest of us are left to wonder where the Uniting Savior Obama will leave his mark — on our right hands or our foreheads?

So Obama is either Hitler or the God of the Old Testament.  Choose wisely.
Posted by scott on February 13th, 2009

Moran Wraps Himself in The Moral Mantle Of Flynt

Just a quick update to our post below on Rick (”I prefer my actresses dead and busty”) Moran.  Over at Right Wing Nut House, Rick is back refapping–sorry, recapping 24, but he pauses to take note of our post, more in sorrow than in anger.  It seems that we missed the actual point of his disquisition on ruminant-hunting tits and the misuse of the word “lumpen” because Rick’s humor is too subtle.
Evidently, some poor schmucks on the left have the sense of humor of a potato and believe I am a hypocrite because I am a fat old man who disses the personal appearance of some of the cast members. In fact, as regular readers know, my descriptions are so over the top that they become a parody of themselves – sort of like Larry Flynt describing the late Jerry Falwell but without the gross sexual and bathroom references (no doubt since I didn’t include any scatological humor, the brainless twits didn’t recognize it as parody.)
Ah!  I see.  His words were a sly parody of a gaseous, self-satisfied misogynist who’s obnoxious enough to criticize — apropos of nothing in particular — the acting talent of a woman whose career was ended prematurely by murder, but still sensitive enough to praise her boobs.  It pains me to think of the many golden nuggets of implied humor I’ve missed when visiting Rick’s site in the past, so let’s take a moment now to appreciate the deft crafting of his multilayered japes:
Back at FBI headquarters, Hillinger is getting too nosy for our own good. The very first hour of the show it appeared he was involved in the plot when Janis caught him fooling around with the server. His explanation seemed plausible and we have hardly given him a thought since then. But the revelation that he is playing around on his wife with Miss Anorexia and his curiosity about the CIP module not being a threat anymore has us thinking once again – is he or isn’t he? Janis is oblivious to the possibility of Sean being the mole but knows that he’s fooling around with Miss Eating Disorder. We’ll see how that plays out as Miss Binge and Purge may play a key role in exposing Hillinger if he is the main mole at the FBI.
Well, I’m sure most of that went over my head, but I’d have to say this paragraph falls somewhere between the subtle wit of Anton Chekhov’soeuvre, and the unintentional comedy of Pavel Chekov’s Monkees wig.
The scene in Lafayette Park with the confrontation between Larry and Jack over torture is one of the reasons I love the show. The series has always made a genuine effort to present realistic arguements for and against Jack’s tactics. And Renee, in this case, can be an “everyperson” character who is torn between necessity and her own personal morals. It’s an old dramatic device going back to the Greeks but it still works when done well.
Okay.  That was funny.
After handing over Gedge’s phone records, Larry is horrified to hear Jack ask about Vossler’s family. Bauer’s plan is to make Vossler think that they will hurt his family unless he tells them where Henry is. Jack makes it plain that he is disgusted with Larry for not seeing the truth – his truth – of the matter:
Jack: When are you people going to stop thinking that they are playing by your rules. They’re not!
He gives them a choice; either they can tell the president that their consciences wouldn’t allow them to rescue Henry or they will “do what is necessary” to get the job done. Reluctantly, Renee sees it Jack’s way but you can tell she is torn. She heads off to Vossler’s home where his wife and 11 month old child are about to receive a lesson in “asymetrical warfare” – Jack style.
Well, then.
Moist Towelette, anyone?

Posted by scott on Thursday, February 12th, 2009 at 2:42 pm

12 Responses to “Moran Wraps Himself in The Moral Mantle Of Flynt”

I don’t recall anyone saying he was a hypocrite, though I may have missed it. I believe we just said he was a fucking loser. I stand by that judgment.
“Can’t you take a joke?” is the plaintive cry of shamed bullies through the years. Sure we can, it’s just that you have to actually *make* one.
As I’ve said before, “Jane, you ignorant slut” is only funny if the people hearing you say it don’t believe you say it to every woman as a matter of course.
The very first hour of the show it appeared he was involved in the plot when Janis caught him fooling around with the server.
Nothing like sex with a machine to get ol’ Rick Moran’s bells chiming.
As I’ve said before, “Jane, you ignorant slut” is only funny if the people hearing you say it don’t believe you say it to every woman as a matter of course.
Naturally, that only happens when you put it clearly in the conext of parody, like the “Point/Counterpoint” parody that your example is firmly rooted in.
Rick, since you enjoy reading about yourself, see, this is how comedy works: you have to let people in on the joke, which usually means the set-up, the surprise, and then the punchline.
Now, clearly making fun of Sophia Coppola’s figure coming from Jabba the Nutt should have clued us in, but seeing as it comes from someone who is a) totally unfunny and b) a total jerk anyway, we missed that rather obvious crack, particularly as it comes after you make fun of the victim of a horrific murder.
I mean, jeez Louise, why didn’t you make the connection between Sharon Tate and Nicole Brown Simpson, two blonde no-talent actresses who’s fame was spread out all over their respective homes, since you decided to take pot shots at dead people?
If you’re going to engage in ugly humour for humour’s sake, then you have to make it relevant and most of all, funny.
Upon reflection, I guess his theory is that we’re objecting to his pervasive, casually cruel misogyny because he’s physically unattractive, rather than because it’s, you know, revoltingly unprovoked misogyny. Which seems to indicate he’s entirely missed the point.
Rick, we’re making fun of you for what you said. Your creepy woman-hating wouldn’t be any less offensive if you had the body of an Adonis.
Pointing out that you don’t is basically an attempt to shame you into realizing what an asshole you’re being by demonstrating that no one likes being taunted for their looks. Clearly a pointless endeavor as you apparently lack even a vestigial sense of empathy, but I like to hope we can be forgiven for not automatically thinking the very worst of you.
A few years ago I watched about 3 1/2 episoes of “24″ on DVD, and then threw the whole package away. Not only is it awful, it’s dull and stupid, too.
Asymmetric warfare Jack Bauer style? Terrorizing a woman and infant? Well, that IS funny. Maybe the baby is like Stewy on Fam.Guy.
This Moran makes me physically ill. Just imagine him sitting in front of his Wide-screen HD TV, beer at his side, cheetos in his lap, saying “Yeah baby, that’s the way to treat those RULE BREAKERS! Go Jack!”
“You see, it was satire, and you’re just too stupid to understand my subtle and delicate wit!” No, never heard that piece of back-pedalling before. Truly an original.
As D. Sidhe says, misogyny is misogyny, no matter how much you paint the word “satire” on it and expect people to fall for it. Jokes are supposed to be funny.
Rick, we’re making fun of you for what you said. Your creepy woman-hating wouldn’t be any less offensive if you had the body of an Adonis.
That he doesn’t is called “irony” and is the icing on the cake. Funny how he missed that nuance.
Mr. Moran:
some poor schmucks on the left have the sense of humor of a potato and believe I am a hypocrite because I am a fat old man who disses the personal appearance of some of the cast members. In fact, as regular readers know, my descriptions are so over the top that they become a parody of themselves – sort of like Larry Flynt describing the late Jerry Falwell but without the gross sexual and bathroom references (no doubt since I didn’t include any scatological humor, the brainless twits didn’t recognize it as parody.). Since it takes more than two brain cells working for the average three year old to figure this out on this site, thenumbskulls who believe I have no business taking potshots at any character for their physical appearance can be forgiven theiridiocy. Allow their brains to mature a bit before we judge them too harshly.
Just for the record, if you’d like to convince a group of people that you are a consummate parodist whose “over the top” comic stylings they were simply too dense to catch, it’s probably best to do so without simultaneously leaving the impression that you imagine there’s an annual medal awarded to the internet typist who crams the largest number of adjectives into a paragraph, or that words are mallets that can cudgel tiny brains at long distance. Some of us are, in fact, familiar enough with Over The Topiness to distinguish it from the comical hissing of the cornered North American opossum.
I’d say stick with the lard-assed misogyny; you’ve probably got a better chance of it coming back into style.
But what about Miss Orthorexia? Just what’s up with her? Then there’s that thing with Miss Bulimia – it has me thinking once again – does she or doesn’t she?
Then there’s that thing with Miss Bulimia – it has me thinking once again – does she or doesn’t she?
Well, she does. Just not for long.
Actually, I was not making fun of the moran for what he said, I just think he’s an asshole.
Rick, we’re making fun of you for what you said. Your creepy woman-hating wouldn’t be any less offensive if you had the body of an Adonis.
‘Tis true, but that picture of him was a perfect illustration of how the ol’ double standard operates. Now he wants to say he was making a joking comment about said double standard? Yeah right. More like he was caught being an asshole and wants to backpedal.
Good to know there’s a population of cretins who 1) watch 24, 2) think it’s a good show and 3) think Rick “50 pounds to go” Moran is the guy to go to for hot 24 explication.
Now I feel much better about 1) watching Tom and Jerry reruns with my three year old, 2) laughing out loud when Tom gets binged and 3) need to shed about 20 pounds after the snow melts.
I feel better because unlike Moran and his moraniacs, I have a life. A real job, real concern about the threats to our safety, and a real commitment to preventing anyone like Jack Bauer from ever holding a position of power in this country.
Now that Dick Cheney’s retired, that is.

Where’s Tom And Crow When You Need ‘Em?

Art imitates life.  But life imitates bad art.
In one of the most shocking cases of courtroom graft on record, two Pennsylvania judges have been charged with taking millions of dollars in kickbacks to send teenagers to two privately run youth detention centers.
And as serious students of crappy cinema know, this is the exact plot of the 1957 B-movie Untamed Youth, which was featured in the first season of Mystery Science Theater 3000.  The only difference seems to be that the teens involved were not forced to pick cotton, and did not respond by dancing around the plantation bunkhouse singing “Oobala Baby” in their underwear, like Mamie Van Doren.  Mores the pity.

Posted by scott on Wednesday, February 11th, 2009 at 10:18 pm

8 Responses to “Where’s Tom And Crow When You Need ‘Em?”

One of my favorite MST3K treatments, if only for the immortal wisecrack: “I only peeped for eight hours today but I’m putting sixteen down on my time card.”
Hey, in fairness, nobody could dance around a bunkhouse in her underwear like Mamie Van Doren.
What we have hyar, is a failure to remunerate!
Apart from the kickbacks, what about three months in prison for posting a joke on the internet? What crime was committed?
Hike–hike–hike–hike your pants up,
Rock candy baby you’re mine,
I know, different movie, but a Dick Contino cameo would not have been out of place there. But wait a sec, did MST do “Untamed Youth” as well as “Girls’ Town”? I think I just confused myself even more.
RobNY: Quack?
You really are magic, Trompy!
Note the tagline on the first poster: “Starring the girl built like a platinum powerhouse.” Now THAT’S an infrastructure stimulus! Smarten my grid, baby!

Rick Moran Demands You Be Pretty Or DIE!

Rick Moran, the proprietor of Right Wing Nuthouse, is a swinging stag straight out of Playboy After Dark; cool, confident, debonair, desired by women and respected by men.  An alpha male with his pick of the pride; a smooth, seductive, irresistible Casanova who won’t abide the company of any dame who fails to meet his exacting standards of pulchritude, even if her presence in his home is brief, and due solely to her guest starring role in a TV action show he obsessively summarizes for his website:
[T]here is something extra special crummy about the performance of Jeanane Garofalo as FBI Agent Janis Gold. I mean really now, are we going to have to put up with Garafolo’s character much longer? Can’t one of Dubaku’s thugs break into FBI headquarters and put us all out of our misery by kidnapping her or simply accidentally discharging his weapon in her general direction? Perhaps my views are colored both by her execreable politics as well as a face even a Pizza Hut owner couldn’t love.
I sympathize, Rick.  It must be frustrating; there you are in the middle of 24, watching Jack Bauer torture some crucially important and totally reliable national security data out of a dusky-hued day player, feeling the old rubber hose in your pants finally start to rise…then bam!  You see some bespectacled leftist and suddenly you know how that “air dancer” at the used car dealership feels when someone turns off the compressor for the night.
Now, as it happens I’ve seen Janine Garofalo at a number of smaller venues over the past 10 - 15 years, and it never dawned on me that it would be impossible to find her attractive without owning a Pizza Hut, or at least holding a controlling interest in any of the better known nationally franchised fast-casual Italian fare concepts.  So I’m thinking it must be her off-screen convictions that deliver the poison pill to the penis, and I agree with Rick that it’s unfair to put women with unarousing political opinions on TV, because sooner or later a man just gets bored with masturbating exclusively to Bo Derek, Patricia Heaton, and Kirk Cameron.
But every time she opens her mouth, I am pulled out of the show and realize that there are few actresses on planet earth who are so bad they actually make you wonder who they slept with to get the part. In Garofalo’s case, we should probably send a sympathy card to whoever that was.
Rick Moran caught in a pensive moment as he mentally composes sympathy cards to Janine Garofalo’s sex partners.
As far as other actresses who should never have been let near a film camera, who could forget the all-time worst performance in movie history – any movie that featured Sharon Tate.
Good point, Rick.  Fortunately her career was cut short when she and her unborn child were murdered by the Manson Family.  Otherwise, who knows how many performances she might be torturing you with?  And when I say “torture,” I don’t mean in a good, stiffy-inducing way.
Tate had a rack that could drop a moose but that didn’t mean she could emote.
Sharon Tate’s is a tragic story, sure, but she’s best remembered today for her moose-killing tits.
Valley of the Dolls – so campy a train wreck that it’s actually fun to watch – featured Miss Tate in various stages of undress that didn’t hide anything. Too bad they couldn’t have hid her inability to act from the world.
Poor Rick.  Why can’t his whacking material include Oscar-caliber performances.  Is that so much to ask?!
Then there was the statue-like performance of Sofia Coppola in Godfather Part III. No, not statuesque. For a woman to be described thusly, they should have some kind of shape. Unfortunately, Sofia’s rather lumpen body type didn’t cut it. Not even low cut dresses that managed successfully to take our attention away from her face (where her gigantic schnoz threatened to steal the scenes) could salvage what even Andy Garcia couldn’t accomplish; getting a wooden indian to talk back to you.
Where do these Hollywood radicals get off casting Sophie the Boner Slayer in a movie Rick might watch?!  Check out the incriminating photos!
Lumpen Body Type               Body Type That Cuts It
Finally, there was the performance by Jane Fonda in Barbarella.
Right.  The one where she’s nude.  What a strange coincidence you picked that movie…
Not a bad actress later in her career, her turn as the futurustic sex goddess was so lifeless you almost wanted to call 911 and have them shock some animation into her performance.
Okay, but I’d recommend you zip up before the paramedics arrive.
A truly classic bad movie in the most awful sense of the genre, the pre-Hanoi Fonda was in a couple of these sex clunkers that passed for soft porn back in the 1960’s. Then, of course, after her betrayal of our POW’s, Jane became a Hollywood star, worthy of Oscar consideration for her turn as a prostitute in Klute. Same Jane, same no-talent, except now she was taken seriously for her “courage” in “speaking out” against the Viet Nam war.
That’s a very cogent point, Rick.  Except Jane Fonda went to Hanoi in July, 1972.  She won her Oscar for Klute (1971) in April of ‘72.
Don’t ya just love Hollywood?
I kinda do, Rick.  But then, maybe I’m just less choosy than you; letting Hollywood off easy because I don’t demand that prime time TV shows, camp classics, and horrifically murdered, but racktastic actresses provide not only entertainment, but also solitary orgasms grunted out on the living room sofa.

Posted by scott on Friday, February 6th, 2009 at 12:05 am

50 Responses to “Rick Moran Demands You Be Pretty Or DIE!”

Holy Fucking Moly! It’s like Jabba the Hut calling Princess Leiafat!
Can someone make him watch himself for 24 hours a day, every day, for a month? Maybe then he can get some perspective on “looks”.
Mason Family.
someone alert the General, his Spermatozoa-Americans are up to no good
and did anyone catch Mona Charon on Stephanie Miller this AM? my synapses were begging for mercy
Sofia’s rather lumpen body type
Until you saw fit to excerpt this phrase, I was willing to believe that the guy was writing in English.
Rick Moran sure is catty about appearances for a guy who’s built like a couch.
more Rick pics please!!! I feel so svelte, fit and handsome after seeing his photo. And I think both Sophia Coppola and Janine Garofalo are hot, but in different ways.
Well, I demand Rick Moran be thin or DIE. Granted, he could dump some a that excess poundage. But he’d still be the kind of ugly that goes all the way to the bone.
Lord, it’s not often something can start off that bad and follow it up by conjuring a bottomless pit of slime and diving in.
Okay, my first thought was: reviewing the whackoff potential of mainstream movies and teevee rather than admit what you’re really waxing the weasel to–good upside potential, internet-wise. Then, of course, I realized that Rick was just desperately trying to convince his audience he could still find the thing, let alone make it work, so that was out.
Second, what sort of hypothyroid bridge troll takes a piss on Sharon Tate? I think we know the answer.
And Kee-rist, “not even Andy Garcia”? Here’s a little game my Poor Wife and I play: 1) print out Andy Garcia’s filmography; 2) watch a movie featuring Andy Garcia; 3) using only the list, try to figure out which movie he thought he was making at the time.
Finally, I’m with the Rev.: it’s smart women who are the hottest, a fact which, rather obviously, has been restricted to those who’ve actually had sex with one.
Why do some people insist on making it so easy to mock them? Moran gets the Self-Awareness Award for 2009.
Scott, you know I love you. But sometimes it’s just fucking embarrassing to watch you skewer your target d’jour.
Not that I’ll stop, of course; I like to watch.
But Rick puts the “Moran” in moran if you know what I mean.
I’d totally tap Garafalo.
Poor Rick Moran has a poor self-image and deals with it by projecting his insecurities onto people who look normal. One shouldn’t attack people for their physical experience, especially when you’re a fat cow. (Oops! Did I just attack Moran for his bovine appearance? Or was that just accurate reportage?)
what a pig. (In several senses of the word “pig”)
A nuthouse indeed.
May I just say in all seriousness?
What a douche.
Sharon Tate?
Really? That’s the best you can do?
He wants to like women. He tries so hard to like women. No woman will ever meet his exalted standards, but women are not the problem.
The problem is that he finds “Valley of the Dolls” campy, but he thinks he’s straight.
Fair enough, but I’m guessing gay men would also avoid him.
A little advice, Rick. I’m fat, unattractive, middle aged, crazy, and highly opinionated too, and I’ve managed to pile unemployed in there as well, and I still have somehow attracted two of the most beautiful human beings on the planet to share their lives with me. I’ve even managed to hold onto one of them for two decades. (I daresay the other would still be with us if he hadn’t died.)
Sounds appealing, doesn’t it? More than whacking off to 24, anyway. I have good news, Rick, you can do it too.
Here’s the thing, Rick. Right now you’re only reinforcing an attitude in people who listen to you that beauty is only skin deep. And that’s not going to benefit you at all. Lots of people really are sexy for their brains and their personalities, believe me. I’ve spent my entire life seeking out those people and never regretted a moment of it. The really cool thing is, if you can propagate that attitude among others, you can benefit from it by having a better inside than an outside. But first you’ll have to work on your presentation.
First you might want to practice not saying everything you think. I’m not entirely singling you out, really *everybody* thinks stuff they shouldn’t say. A good way to sort is to ask “Is this something I’d like people to say about me?” If not, don’t say it. You’ll be amazed at how quickly people stop making fun of you, and how many actual friends you find, and that some of them will actually want to have sex with you.
Good luck, Rick, and once you find yourself wondering what step two is, drop me a line. But I think this is going to take a while.
Well, if Sofia Coppola is “lumpen” then I like lumpen just fine, thank you.
Jane won for “Klute” after being nomintated two years earlier for “They Shoot Horses, Don’t They”. (I’m tragically geeky when it comes to that particular area of film trivia.
I know a lot of folks who think Janeane Garafolo is hot. I don’t know any who think Rick Moran is.
Oh, and trashing Sharon Tate is not only beneath contempt, it’s probably unfair. I’ve only seen “Valley of the Dolls”, and according to Patty Duke, one reason the acting is so bad is because the director was kind of a dick. He’d give Sharon such detailed direction on what do on each word, she’d become flustered.
But according to film critic Danny Peary, she wasn’t as bad in other roles. In his book “Cult Movie Stars”, he describes her as an actress with some promise. He notes that she had some potential as a light comedienne. Her fans have said ths as well, at least the ones who post on the IMDb message boards.
I kinda hope that card hanging around his neck is a “Do Not Resuscitate” order.
Moran. Really glad I’m not him.
Can’t really top anything already said, Scott. Except, where in the FUCK do you find these bipedal pieces of far-flung monkey shit?
And D.Sidhe, it has long been established that you are a far kinder and more patient person than I will ever be, but honey, you give that cockbite WAYYY too much fucking credit. If he were capable of higher thought processes, he’d have HIT UPON ONE OF THEM BY NOW. He is old, bitter, self-loathing, and stupid.And he fucking BRAGS about HATING WOMEN. He thinks that it makes him “a man.”
And as we all know, that ain’t it, kid. It makes him a fucking ASSHOLE and a waste of my oxygen.
I don’t even think that he’s highly-evolved enough to be gay, or even self-aware enough to be in the closet. I think that he’s just a lowlife piece of shit who needs to vacate my planet as soon as possible. If I ever get the gas money and/or the Bio-Willie Bus, this motherfucker is ON THE LIST. Have woodchipper, will travel. I know, he’s not really WORTH expending even renewable non-fossil fuels, but I’ll enjoy it, ever so much.
C’mon, Scott, you can find better targets, we’ve seen this limp-dick (or totally-hidden-dick) woman-hating overgrown juvenile many times; hell, he wants to think that he’s Fatfuck Limbaugh, the ORIGINAL waste of oxygen. Find me a republicunt with a BRAIN, or at least, something AMUSING about them. This cumstain isn’t even remotely funny. You were, as always, but him? Off my fucking planet. NOW.
And, much as I hate to agree with ANY republicunt, no matter how ineffectual and/or trivial, he can take Fonda with him. Not one single VietVet bought her “apology” timed precisely for the release of her “book.” She’s a cynical, profiteering twinkie who is about as relevant and feminist as THIS CUM-STAIN Rick Moron.
Wow. What an ugly guy. Wow. And mean looking, too.
So let me see if I sum up Rick’s opinion: he thinks Janine Garafalo’s performance is one of the four worst in history, comparing it to Jane Fonda in “Barbarella”, Sharon Tate in “Valley of the Dolls” (both movies made for kitsch, but I’m sure I’m not telling you anything you don’t know, Scott…bad movies sort of being your oeuvre), and Sofia Coppola in “Godfather III”.
Now, in all three comparisons, Moran mentions certain…attributes that the actress displayed, so the question I have is, when did Moran see Garafalo’s tits that he can pass judgement on her performance?
And does he rate them on a Peter Meter?
So…is he trying to ingratiate himself into Andy BlightBlart’s HollyWoodieBiggieThingieBloggie?
Or, is he just a fat fuck with a small dick?
Rick appears to be another Ann Coulter wannabe, someone who confuses sarcasm and sneers with wit. Not surprising, his readers would probably say “uh-duh…huh?” when they hear a truly witty remark.
xkcd shows where Janine Garafalo lies in the baseball-as-sex metaphor:
(I saw a clip of her on Fox morning last year, and she was great! I luvs me some smarts.)
It just occurred to me that I’m coming up on two solid decades of wanting to have sex with Janeane Garofalo. Do you think anyone’s ever spent two minutes wanting to have sex with Moran?
And Rick, because I know you’re reading this, the women ain’t avoiding you because you’re a big fat bastard; it’s because you’re a hateful asshole. My guitar player’s a man of substantial girth and a helluva guy, and he pulls more bumper than an auto body repair shop. He’s also a big player in the state College Democrats, so maybe there’s a lesson in that for all.
Roll us both down a hill/
Rick Moran would surely win/

–Old Ian Anderson lyric, uh, paraphrased.
I just want to know what Rick “I can’t spell my own surname correctly” Moran thinks lumpen means.
Capmconnundrum ruminates:
I kinda hope that card hanging around his neck is a “Do Not Resuscitate” order.
I’m thinking more along the lines of a large bottle of tequila andtattoing “Do Not Resuscitate” on his chest.
And that picture looks more than a little like one of the General’s “997 milligannons on the Roycohndar” insets.
He’s just jealous that a LIEberal wimmin got a job he’d orgasm over just by having brains and talent. Damn Hollywood! And he probably can’t help but think that when all is said and done he even has a bigger ‘rack’-maybe not at the moose killing level, but it would at least stun an average raccoon.
a large bottle of tequila and tattoing “Do Not Resuscitate” on his chest.
Most people would be content to use a needle, but clearly you are thinking of very large bold lettering.
Herr Doktor, the bottle of tequila is for anaesthetic purposes - I would hit him over the head with it.
P.S. On a good day I can spell “tattooing” correctly.
Disclaimer: I just saw a video of myself which revealed startlingly the 15-20 lbs I should lose, for reasons of health and beauty.
That said, I cast my eyes over the likes of Hannity, Limbaugh, Jonah G., Karl Rove, and this guy Rick, and I see a pattern - not of simple non-fitness, which can develop in anybody under various circs., but of unhappy, angry humans who hate the world for not coming up to their bitter standards, starting with their own personal bods, from the inside out. What Rick’s got is not just fat - it’s mad, sour, bitter, sullen, pissed-off fat.
Do you think anyone’s ever spent two minutes wanting to have sex with Moran?
I don’t think Rick Moran has spent two minutes actually having sex with Rick Moran.
I don’t think lumpen means what Rick seems to think it does. He himself is a prime example of what used to be called the lumpen proletariat.
By the way, I thought Sharon Tate was rather good in The Fearless Vampire Killers, which I believe was her last film. Of course, its mixture of horror and comedy would be well above Rick’s pay grade.
Whoops, wrong on that last point, she made several more films after TFVK.
Do you think anyone’s ever spent two minutes wanting to have sex with Moran?
I don’t think Rick Moran has spent two minutes actually having sex with Rick Moran.
Maybe in the course of an entire week, if you add all nineteen times up.
he pulls more bumper than an auto body repair shop
Now there’s an idiomatic turn of phrase.
Though taking solos w/ the git-fiddle can’t really hurt.
Mentis Sayeth:
“I’m thinking more along the lines of a large bottle of tequila andtattooing (”tatu” in Samoan) “Do Not Resuscitate” on his chest.”
You been peeking in my blinds again?
After coming-to from my first spine surgery (Charity Hospital NOLA) with a very Nosferatu-esque priest lurking over my semi-conscious form, talons extended, I made DAMNED SURE to get the “ATHEIST — Don’t even TRY” tat on the right side and“DNR — ORGAN DONOR” on the left, right over the heart and under the gravitationally-challenged tit. The skulls involved really set off the type in a lovely fashion.
Hurt like a MOTHERFUCKER. That bitch in N. FL who did it went for RIB BONES, the entire fucking time. Bet if she stuck Moran/Moron, she wouldn’t hit bone for DAYS. But then, that’s prolly how long it takes for him to hit bone, too… pah-dum-bump!
Anyway, it doesn’t matter if you mark, “NO, I DO NOT WISH TO BE ‘VISITED’ BY ANY MEMBER OF THE CLERGY,” or that you check the box, “NONE” under “Religion?” on any of ANY hospital’s forms, if they got rosary-rattlers, they’re gonna try and shove ‘em right down your just-extubated throat, even if you are unfortunate enough to be a female and not their type.
Oh, and btw Herr Doktor & Mentis: 1. Never waste good booze on the useless, and 2. Who in the HELL ever said that this gibbering wad of protoplasm DESERVED anaesthesia?!?!??!!?
” What Rick’s got is not just fat - it’s mad, sour, bitter, sullen, pissed-off fat.” — Li’l Innocent
And thusly you have described my T-3-”logic”-inspired gain of 150 pounds inside of 8 months, my senior year of high school. Yeah, yeah, I lost most of it later, but that’s not the point. The point is that at the time, I actually held that there WAS a point of doing that to myself. Yeah, I know, not to my credit that I can empathize on this one level with aforementioned giant sacks o’crap, but I found Innocent’s an interesting analysis and worthy of commentary.
Herr Doktor, the bottle of tequila is for anaesthetic purposes - I would hit him over the head with it.
Oh, and btw Herr Doktor & Mentis: 1. Never waste good booze on the useless, and 2. Who in the HELL ever said that this gibbering wad of protoplasm DESERVED anaesthesia?!?!??!!?
Annti, can’t say for sure, but I’m guessing that the tequila was for Herr Dok: He drinks it, THEN bashes Moran over the head with the empty bottle - not with the humanitarian aim of protecting him from pain, but for practical purpose of rendering him sufficiently still for the tatooing. At least I hope so; I’m entirely with you on the issue of not wasting good tequila.
Scott, I hope you and S.Z. are okay. I worry when we don’t hear from you for awhile.
Who in the HELL ever said that this gibbering wad of protoplasm DESERVED anaesthesia?!?!??!!?
Out of respect for calligraphy, I’d prefer the subject to remain still.
Sheesh, I need to pay closer attention to who says what. Sorry, Mentis.
Speaking of subjects that don’t remain still, has anyone designed a type face specifically for the demands of tattooing? Somehow Helvetica doesn’t seem appropriate. Or Palatino.
[…] This has happened only once or twice in 4 years so I hope you will let it slide and continue to join me for a look at some of the issues raised by the show as well as the silly fun we have with some of the characters. Evidently, some poor schmucks on the left have the sense of humor of a potato and believe I am a hypocrite because I am a fat old man who disses the personal appearance of some of the cast members. In fact, as regular readers know, my descriptions are so over the top that they become a parody of themselves – sort of like Larry Flynt describing the late Jerry Falwell but without the gross sexual and bathroom references (no doubt since I didn’t include any scatological humor, the brainless twits didn’t recognize it as parody.). Since it takes more than two brain cells working for the average three year old to figure this out on this site, the numbskulls who believe I have no business taking potshots at any character for their physical appearance can be forgiven their idiocy. Allow their brains to mature a bit before we judge them too harshly. […]
So, lemme see if I have this straight….
This obese sack of shit is passing judgment on women for their appearance.
Does dude not realize there are strippers that wouldn’t even go near him if he were waving $100 bills at them?
Until this hosebag gets on a diet, loses about 250 lbs, develops 6 pack abs, and wins a motherfucking decathalon, he can just STFU.
Evidently, some poor schmucks on the left have the sense of humor of a potato and believe I am a hypocrite because I am a fat old man who disses the personal appearance of some of the cast members.
Awwww, Scott! You hurt Rickyboy’s feelings!
Hey, Ricky? Need a second opinion?
Yer a fucking idiot, too.
Not a bad actress later in her career, her turn as the futurustic sex goddess
Wow, so back in 1968’s Barbarella, Fonda used her 1990s co-ownership of a sheep ranch in Montana with Ted Turner as motivation for the scene where she fucks Duran Duran?
Herr Doktor: While there is no “official” typeface for tattooing text, I highly recommend Arial. Sans-serif fonts tend to bleed/blur far less. Not “bleed” as in the process, but in terms of how the pigment tends to osmose out into the neighboring flesh/skin cells.
How in the HELL the gothic-ish fonts of “Olde English” and similarly pseudo-”historical” typefaces ever got “institutionalized” as standard for this gang or that gang or that gaggle of wannabes driving overpriced designer motorcycles (well, not so much “driving” as “being seen purchasing”) in order to combat the physical effects of male menopause, I HAVE NO FUCKING IDEA.
Give those “gangsta” stomach arcs ten to fifteen years, and enough beers behind ‘em, and they’re going to look like a topagraphical map of the Andes. Even the simplest line art with single-needle work will blur, at some point. The black always turns blue, the freckles will always fuck-up the original art concept, and prison or garage tattoos will always look like a warning poster for hepatitis.
Does any of that help?
Ann, I see your point, but an empty bottle doesn’t pack nearly the forward momentum/force needed to render most fat-headed morons unconscious, or even satisfactorily stunned, in order to duct-tape them into a folding chair for said tattooing. Can we fill the bottle with Quik-Crete before we hit the motherfucker?
And Mentis, I fully understand your point of needing a static medium upon which to practice tattoo art, but as I noted above to Herr Doktor, I don’t recommend typical calligraphy fonts. At some point, he’ll be able to attempt to pass it off as a ghastly birthmark, industrial accident, or, if he is re-released into the wild, as evidence that he was abducted and used for medical testing by the same aliens that stole his balls.
No, I don’t think that they stole his el penito, he just hasn’t seen it since Nixon had one.