Thursday, March 06, 2008

Before You Accuse Me


Avid followers of the 'bloodsport of news entertainment' such as myself have no doubt been watching with somewhat jaded interest the latest brewed-up-ha-ha between the Huffington Post and the dean of wrongheadedly sanctimonious scolds, Bill O'Reilly.

(disclosure: I have dealings with the Huffington Post, so my viewpoint is somewhat...colored.)

Indeed, this Tchaikovsky of tedium, this Prothero of piffle, this maestro of mendacity has once again reached into the deeper darkness within his Magic 8-ball of a brain to castigate an organization for something that he himself allows to occur regularly and with impunity on his own nickel-a-glass lemonade stand of a website.

BillO, BillO, BillO, you're making this too easy, old sport...It's like taking a 9-iron to a pinata.

I know you have all of the keenly honed self awareness of a Port Authority bus terminal toilet seat, but you really should tend to the stinkadoodie in your own house before you complain of the odors in another's.

Now, think a little think on this as your big black limo cruises through the twilight evening back to whatever high-priced nightmare you inhabit when you're not inflicting yourself on the nation's viewscreens...and I'm going to call this out like a fairy tale, in the spirit of what you peddle to your low-information desiring demographic every night.

You see, Bill, Arianna Huffington is the beautiful princess high atop a stack of luxuriously stuffed mattresses...You, by contrast, are the annoying little pea at the bottom of the pile, trying your very hardest to draw attention to yourself by being as obnoxious as possible.

Unfortunately for your cardboard-colored schemes, she sleeps soundly at night, far above your petty mean-spirited entreaties...while you remain, as always, a rude, dried-up pod-dweller beneath the good things of someone else's life, doomed to join your compatriots in the dust of iniquity.

...While the rest of us live happily ever after.