The Alinskyite prince of South Side: crowned arbiter pietatis by South Bend’s renegade priests.

Candid readers, the “Catholic” theologians denouncing Notre Dame’s Obama protesters as like the Klan, badly need a refresher in irony. This man of blood, with his “Against abortion? Don’t have one,” is on the same logical and moral level as the antebellum slavers who said “Against slavery? Don’t own one.” And yes, there IS a place for Catholics who publicly dissent from the Church’s teaching authority — it’s called Lutheranism.

As is traditional, George Weigel deftly sees through the postures and rhetoric of Vatican II laicism about Obama at Notre Dame to ask cui bono, and the answer is: Obama’s, in the Electoral College:

In order to secure the political advantage Obama had gained among Catholic voters last November, the president of the United States decided that he would define what it means to be a real Catholic in 21st-century America…  He, President Obama, would settle the decades-long intra-Catholic culture war in favor of one faction — the faction that had supported his candidacy and that had spent the first months of his administration defending his policies…

Rather like Napoleon taking the diadem out of the hands of Pope Pius VII and crowning himself emperor, President Obama has, wittingly or not, declared himself the Primate of American Catholicism…

What the bishops of the United States have to say about this usurpation of their authority will be very interesting to see. Whether Obama’s Catholic acolytes will recognize a genuine threat to religious freedom in what they are already celebrating as their Notre Dame victory over the pro-life yahoos and reactionaries will also be instructive.

Indeed.  This is, of course, a live issue not only in Roman Catholic (and Orthodox) moral theology and Church governance, but in Constitutional law as well, which necessarily and passionately engages evangelical and other traditionalist Protestants.  These include once-and-future Republican Presidential candidate Gov. Mike Huckabee (R-AR), who during his campaign last year made the slavery/abortion analogy for federal law explicit, with some learning lightly worn about the Kansas-Nebraska Act and Dred Scott v. Sandford:

What are we saying to the generation coming after us when we tell them that it is perfectly OK for one person to own another human being?  I thought we dealt with that 150 years ago when the issue of slavery was finally settled in this country, and we decided that it no longer was a political issue, it wasn’t an issue of geography, it was an issue of morality. That it was either right or it was immoral that one person could own another human being and have full control even to the point of life and death over that other human being.

Huck is politically shrewd as well as ethically principled here.  An Old America strategy of invoking the natural law that undergirds the civil, is essential to conservatives’ building big enough coalitions to defeat the secular Left electorally on issues like the sanctity of life and marriage.  It was for instance the fervent participation of the black and Latino churches of California in the Yes on 8 campaign last fall, that enabled us to beat back the homosexual “marriage” lobby here (a majority of whites in the state, nine to nothing concentrated in the liberal littoral, voted to sacramentalize sodomy).

In this connection, herewith video of Dr. Alan Keyes, Obama’s Republican opponent in the 2004 Illinois Senate race, arrested for trespass along with 21 others at Notre Dame, while peacefully praying the Rosary to protest Obama’s presence.  The actual taking into custody, when the police replace the Rosary around Keyes’ wrists with handcuffs, is at about 2:20 in:

A picture or rather video is worth a thousand words; it started precisely this way with Gandhi and Martin Luther King, Jr., one recalls.

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Castrated by Ann Coulter, and now intimidated by Carrie Prejean: Queef Olburpmann, the rather mannish Jewish lady who hosts “Countdown” on MSDNC, is retaining a lot of water this week and is VERY pissy about Carrie Prejean’s bosom:

No need to be catty, Queef — your breasts are much larger than Carrie’s. I see a pattern emerging in Carrie’s “fashionable” critics on the left: androgyny, fugliness and obesity, to start.  (Can’t Obomber afford a court flatterer who isn’t a slob?  I guess a degree in “communications” from Cornell… ah, Ag School won’t help if you’re bovine to begin with.)

And lowbrow Christophobia of course.  One is reminded in this connection of tart-tongued transsexual Ms. Garrison’s memorable outcry when dumped by Richard Dawkins in South Park‘s “Go God Go XII”: “Well go ahead and leave, you atheist faggot!  Have fun mocking God in Hell, queer!”  Warning to more squeamish readers: this South Park clip simulates sodomy in gleeful mockery of academic celebutard Dawkins, whose increasingly reductive caricatures of theism and theology have earned him a painful busting back to private by no less a Leftist than Terry Eagleton.

I sent the man $100 during the ’08 primaries, and I’d do it again.

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CNN quotes Gov. Huckabee making some sharp remarks in California on the stupidity of chasing social conservatives from the GOP.  The occasion?  Per CNN:

“On Saturday, three prominent GOP leaders — Rep. Eric Cantor, former Florida Gov. Jeb Bush, and former Massachusetts Gov. Mitt Romney — kicked off a campaign to reshape their party’s image, gathering at a restaurant in northern Virginia for the first of a series of town hall meetings. The goal of the initiative, called the National Council for a New America, is to connect Republican leaders with voters across the country to help get the party’s electoral fortunes back on track.”

Aha.  So while the Three Stooges roll out an astroturf welcome mat to a bunch of phantom swing voters, the amoral and mercenary lot who swung the election to B. Hussein Obama last fall, Huck’s smart enough to campaign for real Republican votes three years early, in small media markets like the Central Valley.  (He gave the quoted interview to the Visalia (California) Times-Delta.)  That’s what’s known as building your grassroots.

Like him or not, Republicans, the man has natural charm, a direct conduit to millions through his Fox News TV show, and can campaign rings around the wooden Romney, a Brylcreemed plutocrat who’s about as appealing as a tubal ligation.  And am I the only Palin/McCain voter who doesn’t give a tinker’s damn what Jeb Bush thinks, about anything? Advice from yet a third Bush when the first two each put a Democrat in the White House?  Aw hell no.

But here’s Governor Huckabee in his own shrewd words:

“Throw the social conservatives the pro-life, pro-family people overboard and the Republican party will be as irrelevant as the Whigs,” he said in reference to the American political party that largely disbanded in the mid 1800s.

“They’ll basically be a party of gray-haired old men sitting around the country club puffing cigars, sipping brandy and wondering whatever happened to the country. That will be the end of the party,” he said in the interview published Thursday.

That’s a polite, politic way of hinting to the socially-liberal moneybags who have hitherto funded and expected to control the GOP: Screw us on social issues just one more time, and conservatives will bloody bolt your wretched party; we’ll build a populist free-enterprise party with Tea Party, Reagan and other working-class white Democrats.  Whether that new party wins outright in 2012, or instead delivers the 2012 election to Obama, the GOP as party of big finance and, after eight years of Bush II, big government will go the way of the dodo — or as Huck puts it, with his lovable gift for recalling Old America’s history, the Whigs.

Does Huck have a leg to stand on?  Well now, let’s see: the hard-core base of the GOP have been since Nixon’s 1968 realignment Christian, especially evangelical Protestant, conservatives.  So now we’re to take advice on how to screw over and turn off that base from:

1. Mitt Romney, that most incongruous of things yoked by violence together, a Wall Street Mormon;

2. Jeb Bush, a man on the liberal fringe of the Roman Catholic Church (modernist American Catholics voted enthusiastically for Obama and are about as popular with the Vatican and the rest the Church as an ill-coiffed lesbian Methodist preacheress from Minneapolis); and

3. Eric Cantor, a young Jewish congressman who, in addition to still being soaking wet behind the ears, has a loyal national following of… the Republicans in his own Virginia district.

Do you begin to see the GOP’s brilliant strategic gifts?  The ones that led John McAmnesty to support the unconstitutional bailouts last fall when, opposing them, he might have ridden Main Street’s anger at Wall Street to victory?  Huck’s just speaking a little home truth on electoral math here; it’s not for nothing that the GOP was dubbed, by one of its most astute and acrid critics from the right, the late Sam Francis of Chronicles Magazine, “the stupid party.” As the Carolingian French said of the Vikings, “From the fury of the Republicans deliver us, O Lord!”

So in a word, conservatives, Huck makes a vital point: Drive a hard bargain with these Wall Street and suburban seculars who want their taxes cut but think you, your manufacturing job, and our historically European Christian culture are negotiable if they can “broaden” the GOP to be “inclusive.”  Whom must we include?  Amnestied illegal aliens on the dole, selfish white ladies who abort Baby because he’ll get in the way of tennis lessons, and a congeries of Prozacked, casually-sexed twenty-somethings (and their bovine bullhorn in the media, Meghan McCain) who think sodomy needs to become a sacrament, and pronto, or else representative government will collapse about our ears.  The new, rebranded GOP, eh?  Include me out.

And now, HotAir’s Allahpundit reports, Huck’s being echoed in some unlikely quarters, like the ebullient Zo of ZoNation fame — who, despite what liberal Republicans like Jeb Bush and Twit Romney hallucinate over G&Ts at the country club, is quite typical of social conservatives’ racial and generational diversity.  Zo’s now posted another of his sharply-observed monologues, and this time it’s “to the lantern with the RINOs”:

Amen.

Scantily clad, but at least I’m not a pervert.

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Er, HOW exactly does the sin of posing for a cheesecake shot rise to the level of pushing to sacramentalize sodomy? There’s a big difference between poking the body politic in the ribs with a fingertip and aiming hatchet blows at its knees, you’ll observe. Anyway, as Dr Johnson said, “You may scold a carpenter who has made you a bad table, though you cannot make a table. It is not your trade to make tables.”

And will MS-DNC, the pukey Today Show and the other house organs of liberalism can the phony prudery already?  Tasteless hypocrites — on normal days, the Left trips over itself in its haste to file for federal court injunctions so child pornographers aren’t inconvenienced returning us to Graeco-Roman moral filth (Stoics excepted).  As HotAir’s AllahPundit observes:

“It’s very late in the day culturally to be feigning shock at material like this — and yet NBC, the network that aired photos and video of the Virginia Tech killer glorifying himself, has decided that the pic’s simply too hot for the Peacock to handle. A cynic might wonder if they want viewers to imagine that it’s worse than it is. Good thing I’m not a cynic.”

Me too; you don’t think it’s possible the bores at NBC are bought’n’paid for by the Obomber Democrats, do you?  I thought they just reported the news.

Meanwhile, even liberal CNN’s reporter was forced to observe, with a nice dry wit:  “It was unclear whether pageant officials would consider that [shot] a semi-nude photo, in light of their standard requirement that contestants parade across stage wearing a bikini that arguably shows more skin.”  You think?  The HRC’s little gambit here is tepid and clumsy; it’s pretty clear they’re just lurching from expedient to expedient in handling Carrie Prejean and NOM (needless to say, the beetle-browed lesbians at HRC don’t have talent on the order of Robert George behind them, as NOM does).

Hats off to Maggie Gallagher and NOM for standing by Carrie in this faux-crisis, by the way.  The gay “marriage” lobby’s character assassins will have to get up a lot earlier in the morning than this, to buffalo a gritty sometime chairman of the Party of the Right at Yale like Gallagher (I know, I’ve debated a few).  She’s more man than “Perez Hilton” has ever had and more woman than he’ll ever be, except weight-wise of course; the loathsome Hilton weighs three hundred pounds if he weighs an ounce, or at least he did before ingesting a tapeworm in an emergency bid to shed a few layers of blubber.

En passant, can any Lusophones out there confirm that the ostensible family name of Mario Lavandeira (“Perez Hilton”) is Portuguese?  Fluent in Spanish, I know that if you reverse the “i” and the “r” in “Lavandeira” you get lavandería, which means laundromat or place where the poor scrub dirty linen on pockmarked rocks.  Oddly appropriate, when you see “Hilton” in the flesh — lots of it.  The little toadstool’s positively shrouded in fat — and won’t some humanitarian buy the squashy creature a bra?  Those moobs are heinous:

perez-hilton-400ds0801

Arsehole babies separated at birth: Backstabber Arlen Specter…

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and backshooter Phil Spector.

US Phil Spector Trial

Sen. Arlen Specter (R-PA), who uncannily resembles his undead namesake, convicted murderer Phil Spector, has announced he’ll turn his coat and be a Dhimmicrat now, as preliminary polls showed him getting destroyed by Pat Toomey in next year’s Pennsylvania Republican primary.

My tears flow like a river — all crocodile.

Dry your eyes, Wall Street Republicans; the weak old temporizer couldn’t even be bothered to vote against Obama’s hideous porkulus bill, among many other measures hostile to your capitalist interest.  And rejoice fellow conservatives, who hold our noses tightly and vote Republican because they’re not quite as far to the secular Left as Democrats: Specter was an orthodox liberal on abortion, homosexual “marriage” and other desiderata, and will live in infamy as a Republican betrayer who kept Robert Bork, the most learned jurist of our time, off the Supreme Court.

Naturally country-club Republicans, and the leftie MSM who love to interview them on these occasions, are in emotional tatters over Specter’s little tempest in a teacup.  Woe is the GOP, they cry, rending their garments and smiting their bosoms like some less-talented Vivien Leigh opposite Clark Gable.  What ever shall we do to win elections again?  Where ever shall we go to cobble together an electoral majority?

Here’s a hint, idiots: Stop trying to outpander the Democrats.  Return to the Reaganite fiscal discipline and social conservatism that used to win national elections, and big.  Even now, with the likes of grey, pudgy, and patently unappealing Mitch McConnell and John Boehner heading the GOP in Congress, Rasmussen reports Republicans lead Democrats 41%-38% on the generic Congressional ballot, a mere 100 days into Obama’s reign of error.  Well, well, well.

Conservatives, the GOP may yet be worth our time, with good riddance to bad rubbish like Arlen Specter. Don’t waste a moment’s ire on political whores who sell to the highest bidder; Specter’s thirty pieces of Democrat silver won’t get him far.  Far better to have your enemy out in the open, where you can see him, than constantly fearing his knife in the back you know not when.

In a word, candid readers: FAT.  That, and the fact that Carrie’s upright in both senses: full of moral probity, and tall as a willow tree, to May-gun’s squat, dumpy barrel cactus.

Yes, Carrie Prejean, Miss California who “chose truth over a tiara” in Maggie Gallagher’s words, is the Queen Esther of her times, physically lovely but discreet too, willing to put herself on the line to speak truth to power:

Contrast this, candid reader, with the bovine eructations of Meghan McCain, as likely to shoot from the lip as her amnesty-crazed father but, incredible as it may seem, even more ethically challenged than the old Keating Five womanizer himself:

How dare this dumpy cow lumber onto a national stage, belching and farting her country-club Republican twaddle to any leftie who’ll book her on his show, especially looking like that?  (You know the country-clubbers’ pious mantra: Cut my taxes — but keep abortion legal so my slut daughter can fornicate consequence-free.)  I thought she’d learned from the scars earned in her battle of the wits, though sadly unarmed, with Ann Coulter and Laura Ingraham, like that gaping new one ripped between her ass’s ears.  How do I detest thee, Meghan?  Let me count the ways…  I can’t do better here than quote the patron sage of this blog, Jonathan Swift, describing female horse’s asses who try to impress beyond their abilities:

Some try to learn polite Behaviour,
By reading Books against their Saviour;
Some call it witty to reflect
On ev’ry natural Defect…
But, sure a Tell-tale out of School
Is of all Wits the greatest Fool;
Whose rank Imagination fills,
Her Heart, and from her Lips distills;
You’d think she utter’d from behind,
Or at her Mouth was breaking Wind.

(Strephon and Chloe, 1731)

Oral wind-breaking — yes, that pretty well sums up May-gun McLame.  Back to your stall now, Old Bossy, and give that flapping jaw, and your sorely overtaxed hooves, a rest.

Meanwhile, why exactly is ass-ugly gossip blogger Perez Hilton allowed even to enter the presence of gracile beauties like Carrie Prejean, let alone question them?  Does anyone who doesn’t huff amyl nitrite even know who this coarse little scrub is?  Doubtless spawned in some estaminet of Huntington Park, a coffee shop drudge or simpering bag boy at Gelson’s until last week, Perez is stunted and beetle-browed, like so much East Side ethnojetsam washed up on the kosher West Bank of L.A., lately gone from working the corners of Santa Monica Boulevard on to modest fame among homosexuals.  Yes, look closely at the face: the joke stage name conceals low peasant origins, probably one generation removed from an auto body shop on Washington Boulevard, two from some shithole jacal in Jalisco.   Hardly a eugenic or edifying specimen, before one even gets to the illiteracy and repulsive Gay Mart couture.  Indeed, the little pouf’s relentlessly pinched face and lemony sneer suggest a shredded or prolapsed anus, or some kindred sodomite ailment — you see what happens when you shove Coke bottles, various combinations of your own digits, and multiple strangers’ penile Petri dishes up your backside on a nightly, drug-fueled basis.

Bra-less wonder Perez Hilton before emergency makeover: What shat that?

perehiltongettingsued

That’s precisely why bourgeois liberals’ push for homosexual “marriage” is such a joke — “gay” and “marriage” are contradictions in terms, as every candid queer from Mark Simpson to Camille Paglia has observed, and not just because marriage originated as a sacred union framed for the procreation and protection of children.  Everybody who’s not a Prozacked white lady in the Seattle suburbs, dutifully twitching when the Obamatards pull her strings, knows gay men are polygamous almost to a man.  No matter what claims they make in public about their “relationships,” they are except in rare cases industriously promiscuous unless body fat, clock-stopping ugliness or some other structural flaw precludes it, as with blobby toad Perez.

This is not speculation, friends — though a strict celibate myself, my oldest and dearest friends are two gay men, as are a constellation of lesser friends and acquaintances, and believe me, they bear me out unerringly.  Nor, I might add, do very many of them buy into this manipulative liberal “gay marriage” schtick.  Gay men of all people know that male lust, freed of any limits in female reticence, is for all practical purposes unbounded; it drives unerringly for the maximum number of sexual partners, stopping only when structurally limited by the physical exhaustions of age, disease or both.  Nor, they’ve told me for years, would they want it to be; it’s precisely their hedonist, libertine refusal of respectable social norms — the self-restraint and voluntary sacrifice needed for the protection and procreation of women and children — that keeps the gaiety in gayness for them.

And I’m not just picking on the gays here.  Consistent reactionary that I am, I zealously assert divorce must be illegal except in cases of proven adultery; separation, perhaps, but rupturing a sacramental union, never.  “Husband and wife are one body in the same way as Christ and the Father are one.”  (St John Chrysostom) And hetero fornicating is quite out of the question too, as is indeed marital intercourse not open to the transmission of life.

Get with the program, self-described Christians: either human beings wholly own their bodies and can use them any way we damned well please — or not.  Half-measures and casuistry, the hypocrisy of “Christians” who condemn homosexual acts while having hetero sex for pleasure, are just intellectual and moral flab — be for real:

The unitive aspect of sexual love, therefore, is a blessed and joyful corollary to procreation.  It is a gift for which we can rejoice and give thanks.  It is so, however, only inasmuch as it derives from the more fundamental purpose of Christian marriage, which is to participate directly in God’s creative work through the bearing and raising of children.

(Very Rev. John Breck, The Sacred Gift of Life: Orthodox Christianity and Bioethics, 90)

So is marriage a sacred institution framed to hallow the procreation and protection of children, or isn’t it?  As several Orthodox and Roman Catholic theologians have observed, married couples who copulate using birth control are simply masturbating; it is every human being’s duty to abstain from sexual acts not open to the transmission of life.  Husbands and wives who contracept are, therefore, as antisocially selfish and morally foul as the randiest sodomite.  How’s that for consistency and even-handedness?

“From fairest creatures we desire increase, / That thereby beauty’s rose might never die.” — Shakespeare, Sonnet 1

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(Durham, NC)  Beeve Wedgethick, heavyweight on the academic Left (and bathroom scale), noted disciple of French leather-bar patron Michel Foolcauld, went to her eternal reward last week. Wedgethick, 69, was Newman’s Own Dressing Professor of English and Kulchural Studies at Duke.  (The university is now best known as the stalag where the lacrosse team, libeled as rapists and racists by university president Brod Dickhead and 87 members of his professoriat, were railroaded in a show trial; the crooked prosecutor and lying chief witness were subsequently exposed, of course, and all charges dropped.)

According to Wikipedia, where she did most of her research, Wedgethick’s many and weighty excogitations, eagerly lapped up by the sort of dim grad student who thinks Judith Buttlore’s cool — she failed freshman logic at Yale, Ruth Marcus told me  — include:

  • Between Mensrooms: English Litterchur and Male Homosocial Desire in the Humanities Building Basement (1985), a learned, lucid treatise on why many young college Homo sapiens, faced with young college women who look like Wedgethick, decide it’s sapiens to be homo;
  • Epissemology of the Watercloset (1990), a sensitive probing of the dark, mucky nooks and crannies of the smallest room in the house, which the sexual Other has, as second-class citizen, historically been compelled to enter through the back door (speaking of which, what pity Beeve’s books aren’t written on soft paper).

Wedgethick’s books, written in classical Asyntactic, have not been translated into English. However, it’s widely understood that they must be intellectually deep because few can squeeze meaning from the hard, tortured product Wedgethick put on paper, much as a dry well with no light looks profound though an inch deep. Happily, therefore, several of Beeve’s Nude Historicist colleagues (as in the emperor has no clothes) survive burrowed into the woodwork at Harvard and Berkeley, still living the glory days of 1979; several are proficient in Asyntactic and have volunteered to translate Wedgethick’s messy effluvia into stylish English (or their best approximation).

– Martinus Scriblerus

“The gay corpse bride of Janet Reno,” as one of my tart-tongued friends at Y.A.F. calls her.

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Left wing radical Janet Napolitano cries wolf about right wing radicals. As the local yokels say here in California: “Umm… Whut?”  Oh yes, that’s credible. The Orwellian part: DHS will be snooping “over the next several months” into “rightwing extremist activity” — i.e. exercise of 1st, 2nd and 10th Amendment freedoms by anyone to the right of the ultra-left Obama claque — surely 95% of the citizenry (can’t vouch for illegal aliens like Obama’s aunt).

It seems the unibrowed Madame Sappho has really put her big, sensibly-shod foot right in the middle of it this time: the American Legion demands the old bawd take back her slur on the Republic’s returning veterans. How about ritual suicide too? So what if veterans, or any citizen, are prepared to take up arms to save American liberties? Yes, just think of the bad company they’d be in: Washington, Jefferson, young Andrew Jackson.

And now today we learn that the old bag stands by her slur.  Mme Stalin and the NKVD speak: “DHS will continue to… prevent and protect against the potential threat to the United States associated with any rise in violent extremist activity.” Madam, it is YOU, and your non-patriotic president, who are the threat to the United States, actual not potential; your mouth’s writing checks your party can’t cash. “Violent extremist activity”? Your career up to this very day and hour.

Some ingenious wit has started a blog in persona of the Idiot-in-Chief’s Teleprompter (you know, the thing Obomber uses to thank himself for inviting me etc.).  Here’s the blog’s latest parody icon, a delightful sendup of Hussein’s pompous agitprop:

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And then what do we hear?  Oh dear — Presidunce Teleprompter flopped on The Tonight Show — a jibe at the Special Olympics.

Barky Hussein, laughing at the retarded? Physician, heal thyself!

And now a retarded man who bowls rather better than the Metrosexical-in-Chief has thrown down:

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Hmm — I’m gonna go with the retardate on the right.  At least he hasn’t got too big for his breeches — nobody bought his way into Punahou Prep, affirmative-actioned him thence to Columbia, and finally social-promoted him to Harvard Law.  Or figured, like the moldy Bill Ayers Left, he was an ideal Manchurian candidate to gull suburban boobs — many of them alas white, female and middle-class, and therefore vaguely moistened by some caramel, non-threatening androgyne.

The hunter:

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And the hunted (it’s almost sad — like swatting a fly with a Buick):

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Warning to Meghan McCain and other slow-witted RINOs: do NOT make eye contact with, do NOT challenge tall, thin women who will leap on you like a panther and bite your head off while you’re still chewing your cud.

Meghan, Meghan. (Could her name, like, possibly have been anything else?) Just stick to the suburban trollop’s feasible pastimes: facelifts, reality TV, and birth-controlled fornicating. You are NOT in Laura Ingraham’s league, let alone Ann Coulter’s. Either can think rings around your ponderous ass, before you’ve even put the potato chips down.