Weekend Bookchat

February 15, 2009

This space is frequently used to ridicule conservatives and Republicans, but in honor of the atmosphere of love and affection generated by the Valentine’s Day weekend, Weekend Bookchat will take this opportunity to step forward and praise Wingnut Nation for its leadership role in recycling.

 Because when one surveys the illiterary annex of the winger aviary, it becomes clear that there is no conservative argument so tired, so lame, so overworked or so played out that some ambitious illiterateur won’t scrape it off the bottom of the aviary and repackage and yet another bold, fresh pile of right-wing thought. Consider, for example, Andrea Peyser’s suavely titled new — that is, “new” — book Celbutards, an attack on Hollywood  liberals. As Steve M. puts it:

Wow, a right-wing attack on the likes of Rosie O’Donnell, Barbra Streisand, and Sean Penn. What a blazingly original book idea.

No, seriously — I bet this is a great book. After all, it was a great book when Bernard Goldberg wrote it and called it 100 People Who Are Screwing Up America (and Al Franken is #37). And it was an even greater book when Laura Ingraham wrote it and called it Shut up and Sing: How Elites from Hollywood, Politics, and the UN Are Subverting America. And it was an even greater book when Michael Savage wrote it and called it The Political Zoo (“Serving as resident biologist and zookeeper, Dr. Savage asks that you watch your step when approaching the widemouth copperhead Ted Turner [also known as Mouthus desouthus], do not feed the ego of stuffed turkey Alec Baldwin [Notalentus anti-americanus], and please keep your children with you at all times around wolf boy Bill Clinton [Fondlem undgropeum]”).

Bloody hell, do these people have any new thoughts? Do they think this stuff is funny? Still? “Hanoi Jane”? Still?

“Still”? Of course still! If there’s one thing you can count on parrots to do, it’s take to the air in a flock to fly around in circles making identical screeching noises. No sooner have you wiped away the wingnut complaints about press being biased in favor of Barack Obama than Bernie Goldberg’s A Slobbering Love Affair:  The True (And Pathetic) Story of the Torrid Romance Between Barack Obama and the Mainstream Media is deposited on the shelves of your local big box.

Which is why I can predict that  no matter how great Peyser’s book may turn out to be, it will only be dwarfed by the sheer awesomeness of aspiring New Media tycoon Roger Simon’s Blacklisting Myself, an attack on — yes! — Hollywood liberals. Because after conservatives have lied us into a disastrous war, destroyed the economy and laid the foundation for future disasters, what else is there to do but wheel out some creaky Jane Fonda jokes? Or tell everybody that Michael Moore is fat? After all, Dinesh D’Souza did it ahead of them all with The Enemy at Home, and he can leave his gated community without being pelted with eggs, so where’s the downside? 

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A look at conservative labor relations. Is jazz dead? Like the man said, that depends on what you know. And leave it to a science fiction writer to come up with a big new idea for writers and authors.