15 July 2008

But What Says Dr. Cartoonoclastes?

Sweet mercy me. The New Yorker has offended Barack Obama, John McCain, the New Republic, Jake Tapper, the Huffington Post, and the sensibilities of thousands—maybe millions!—of Americans. The source of all of this injury is not daring exposé or cutting criticism by a New Yorker writer but one of "them damned pictures"—to quote Boss Tweed of Tammany Hall, who bled pints every time he was poked by Thomas Nast's pen. "I don't care so much what the papers say about me," Tweed said of Nast's work. "My constituents can't read. But, damn it, they can see pictures!"


Well, of course nobody normal ever heard of Miss Lynx and Mr. Badger and Dr. Cartoonoclastes. Not even in Dubuque. Mu’ámara Junction, considered as a geographic rather than a geistlich topos, is located somewhere up around Baffin Bay, I believe. The goofball gentry despise figurative cartoons so rabidly that there might be a medical emergency should one of them ever ran into the crude thing itself. On the other hand, all their constituents can read -- though preferably in Old Norse and Nonsectarian Kufic and Inuit.

I doubt we will be hearing from Cartoono the Magnificent about this particular Silly Season fuss, Mr. Bones, although he is never to be counted upon entirely. Over and above despising them damned pictures, Cartoono despises us damned Democrats, us being the schizomaniacal Party of Biden, don’t thee know? If B. Hussein has been individually excused from the guilt of that association, either by Dr. Cartoonoclastes himself or by his ideobuddy Dr. Righteous Virtue, I missed the official announcement. One gets the impression that the MJ/RV goofballs consider all donkeys -- plus most Heimatlandisch doves, say nine in ten -- antecedently hopeless. [1]



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[1] To be sure, at Mu’ámara Junction they do not care for the Commanderissimo Presumptive either. But I take it J. Sidney is accounted less of a threat, too obvious and clumsy to be really dangerous. JSM pretty much lays his cards on the table and admits fair and square that he is conspirin’ against goofball values and gives not a hoot for rigidly nondenominational Sunnninternophilia. The "Straight Talk Express," remember, O Bones?

America's party, on the other hand, urgently demands to be unmasked and discredited, for we Bidenites have the impertinence (or Satanic skill and malice) to pretend to be on the same side as the goofball gentry are. It would be rather easier to be this crew's enemy than any sort of ally or parallel force. That way one could at least manage to avoid the knife in the back!

Yet of course decent political grown-ups do not pick sides on the basis of considerations so peripheral as that one. And no matter what side one picks, there are bound to be some others on it one wishes would defect straightaway.

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