infotainment

The corporate media and its mutated subspecies

Manny Ramirez fails to make proper curtsy to King George; whiney-ass tittie babies of WEEI go into St. Vitus Dance of Rage. (Or was it St. Anthony's Fire?)

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Red Sox slugger Manny Ramirez recently passed up an invitation to be a prop for a George W. Bush vanity photoshoot with the rest of the 2007 World Series Champion Boston Red Sox. Evidently Manny didn’t feel like going to Washington, so he didn’t go. Man, did that put the authoritarian fetishists of WEEI sports radio in Boston into a snit. Evidently most of them never got the news flash that the USA is a republic, not a monarchy, and there’s no such thing as a command performance here. Yet.

Yesterday even the more-or-less sane on-air guys were going on about how, at the least, Manny’s doing whatever he chose to be doing instead of putting on a dorky suit and being ritually humiliated by the narcissistic asshole currently in residence in the White House was a “missed opportunity.” Missed opportunity for what, one might ask. A chance to be photographed kissing George Bush’s ass? That’s an opportunity I myself will be happy to miss indefinitely, thank you very much, and it doesn’t surprise me that Manny also chose to take a pass. Manny’s eccentricities are legendary, but in this case I think he was the sanest one in the group.

By what the callers & hosts were saying, I got the impression that Dennis & Callahan, the most overtly fascistic of the WEEI crew, had been apoplectic about Manny’s “unpatriotic” decision to exercise freedom to not do something that he was under no contractual or moral obligation to do. “Freedom” is evidently a very difficult concept for these guys to grasp.

Bush noted Ramirez’s absence with a typically boorish frat-boy joke about the death of Ramirez’s grandmother, which was widely repeated in print and on the air as a telling example of his stellar bonhomie and wit.

I know that after my Superduperbowl(TM) screed I promised to cut loose the WEEI until spring training. But darn it, the Sox were playing yesterday, a Grapefruit League warmer-upper against Minnesota. I just paid the paid the price for tuning in a bit too early.

UPDATE: I rewrote this a little for clarity since posting it this morning.

John McCain & Vicki Iseman: So FCC policy *is* sexy? Who knew!

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Thanks to an innuendo-laden story by the New York Times last Thursday, everybody who follows USian politics at all knows that Vicki Iseman is a quasi-hot telecom/media lobbyist who for a while eight years ago had a pretty close friendship with Senator John McCain, and that he threw some of his political weight around on behalf of some of her clients. (I tried to find a flattering photo of Ms. Iseman to grace this here blog entry, but all I could find were an elongated pic of her in an evening gown, too big for my purposes, and a horribly unflattering portrait from her company’s website. Oh well, by now you’ve either seen those photos or this story likely ain’t for you anyway.)

What few suspect, however, that this whole story was a cleverly planted plot designed to boost the google rank of Wetmachine into the stratosphere!

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Footnote to Howl

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In an earlier couple of posts, I copped to a certain amount of schadenfreude over the howling in distress of Boston sports talk radio hosts and rabid Patriots fans about the compound insult to their manly self-images from (a) the loss in the SuperDuper Bowl(tm), and (b) dread Prirate Roberts Senator Spectre Specter’s meddling in the spygate affair. As I said before, I’m a Pats fan myself, but all the apotheoses of Brady, Bellichick and Kraft over the last few months and years were really getting on my nerves. Now, today, it gets better: Robert Kraft and the Patriots are being sued for a hunnert million buckaroos by some dude on the Rams who claims his rightful place on a SuperDuperBowl team was stolen from him by the nefarious cheating Patriots. I wonder how Saint Kraft will come out of this one?

Anyway, mostly I wanted to pass along a link to this essay by Yahoo columnist MJD, entitled “Why I’m OK with Arlen Specter’s involvement in Spygate.” It’s funny and it’s good. I agree with him.

P.S. Yes, you literary types correctly detected an allusion to Allen Ginsberg! Footnote to Howl is a sublime poem. But be sure to read it after reading Howl itself. That’s the way the footnote achieves its full poetic power.

“Comedy stylings of a libertarian blowhard”

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James Wolcott, whose work I would link to more frequently if it did not so show me up as a pale Wolcott wannabe, has a little thing up on his blog about Penn Jillette, the blowhard aforementioned. As usual, he’s spot on, only this time, with one sour note. He says that Penn Jillette

with his long, lank locks resembles an angry mutation of Jeff Bridges’ Dude in The Big Lebowski

Now, that is just totally unfair to the Dude, and I’ll leave it at that, for to make a bigger deal out of it would be supremely un-Dude-like. What Wolcott meant to say, I’m sure he would have realized if he had just waited a minute before posting, is that Jillette looks just like Eugene Levy’s Mitch Cohen from A Mighty Wind.

After the fold: take a look and see if I’m lying.

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Hypothesis: Why Limbaugh, Coulter et al are renouncing McCain

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As has been reported widely, the right wing blowhards of talk radio & pundit television have been making a big stink about how John McCain is anathema. Some people who comment on this phenomenon attempt to explain it in terms of ideological disagreements between the candidate and said blowhards, or in terms of personal animosities arising from McCain’s prickly temper and his dissing of some of the lesser gods of the Republican pantheon, etc.

I think that’s a lot of baloney.

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Saints Belichick and Brady fail attempt at bodily ascension into heaven; whiney-ass titty-babies of WEEI-land put on suicide watch

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On Boston’s WEEI radio, where mindless Republican cant mixes with sports cliche, capitalist hagiography and homoerotic hero worship, the pain is palpable.

I’m a fan of the New England Patriots and wanted them to win the Super-Duper Bowl. But I certainly didn’t expect that they would, given what went down the last time these two teams played. Neither did I expect that they would lose. I had no expectations; I thought it could go either way. It was a fun game to watch, back and forth right down to the last minute. The Patriots could have won it, but they didn’t. Oh well.

But there’s a bright side, a very shiny, happy bright side to the Pat’s loss. And that’s that the canonization of saints-in-waiting Tom Brady and Bill Belichick and Bob Kraft and the rest of the Patriots enterprise has been put on indefinite hold. And what’s even better, all the bozo Pats fans who take this stuff too seriously will have to shut up, at least a little. And what’s the best thing of all is that the talk radio radio hosts of WEEI, among whom are some of the biggest assholes in all New England, are going to be whining and weeping and wailing and gnashing their teeth from now until spring training, whilst the rest of the sports-watching country gloats about how the “arrogant, cheating” Pats choked.

What a happy thought!

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Our stupid discourse

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Here’s Montel Williams, making sense on the subject of press coverage of Heath Ledger versus coverage of troops killed in Iraq.

According to this post on daily Kos, from which I lifted this idea,

Three minutes into this awkward segment on Fox, one host cut off Montel in order to go to a commercial. Montel did not return after the break. Four days later, after 17 years as a television host, Montel lost his job.

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Hey Rush, in case you missed this

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I know that our friend the patriotic draft-dodging drug addict Rush Limbaugh is a busy man and doesn’t get time to read all his email or answer all his phone calls. But given the prominent position of Wetmachine in our nation’s political discourse, I daresay there is some chance he’s reading Wetmachine right now. Therefore, I’m taking this opportunity to pass along this message from another patriot (this one’s not phony, by the way), Eric Massa.

No need to thank me, Rush. But please send me a note to let me know when Eric will be a guest on your show.

Would somebody please taze the WSJ?

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Well the so-called journalists of the Wall Street Journal are back to their usual practice of making shit up in the name of capitalism and Victory! and Freedom! and A Pony — or whatever it is they’re arguing for.

Call me a dreamer, but I kinda like the idea that editorial boards of extremely prominent media outlets would do at least rudimentary fact-checking before racing off to their foregone conclusions.

I can hardly wait until Rupert gets hid 48-point Helvetica-Bold hands on this paper. The editorial page, already the next best thing to an acid trip for those who don’t chemically imbibe, will likely become the apotheosis of truthiness, kinda like Alan Greenspan talking about geopolitics under the influence of Atlas Shrugged and some of that bad windowpane that was going around at Woodstock.

By the way, I really am not asking anybody to taze the WSJ. Nor do I want anybody to shoot the WSJ in the face. We’ll leave those kinds of things to people in uniform and Vice Presidents of the United States, respectively.