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You just gotta love Camille Paglia. Well, maybe not all the time, but her writing is succinct and well reasoned; even if you don’t agree with the central thesis of whatever piece you happen to be reading. I’m quite sure that as often as I’ve shaken my head in amazement at her stances, some of her liberal friends find themselves in the same boat. Her article from last Thursday is a great example of what I mean. I’m quite sure she’s pissed off more than a few of her fellow abortion rights comrades by highlighting their religious fervor towards the issue of abortion, much the same way the pro-choice movement derides those of a more traditional religious viewpoint. I’ll give her this much; she’s consistent and declares herself to be more courageous than her fellow abortion rights supporters who hide behind what she calls the “cowardly euphemism” term of “pro-choice.” Courageous indeed.

Been there, done that, got the T-shirt...

Been there, done that, got the T-shirt…

Paglia was writing about the unfortunate slip of the tongue of Hillary the Great, the anointed democrat nominee. (Can nominee and anointed be used in the same sentence?) Was Hillary trying to soften her abortion stance, hoping to move as far to the right as Bernie will allow her, or was this actually a deep rooted conviction from a woman who has really only shown a deep rooted conviction for anything that might benefit Hillary? Was Hillary simply confused when she referred to the fetus as an “unborn person,” quite possibly recalling her junior high school biology lessons where I and millions of other eager yet empty headed youngsters first learned that when a woman gets pregnant, she’s carrying a human child and not a puppy, a goldfish or a snail? How dare she humanize a fetus? Did she possibly search Webster’s online: “an unborn or unhatched vertebrate especially after attaining the basic structural plan of its kind; specifically :  a developing human from usually two months after conception to birth.” Say what you will, but I won’t be shaken from the certainty that you’re killing something that was always human. It’s biology you see.

It’s quite amazing, really, and somewhat depressing that young women are being taught that they’re not carrying anything that even remotely looks like their own baby pictures. If you don’t humanize it, it’s easier to kill it. And heaven forbid someone offers you a chance to look at the face of your “choice” via any type of ultra-sound so you can see just what you’re about to tear to pieces. What kind of idiot provides a woman with that kind of clarity? But hey, Hillary redeemed herself by assuring those so offended by the term “unborn person” (you know, a human child) that the unborn don’t have any constitutional rights anyway. So there.

Camille, Like Hillary, is quite sure that the execution of the unwanted gestating child is supported without restriction under the fourteenth amendment. And Camille does pat her self on the back quite often, proud that she has always been consistent with respect to the sanctity of life, and feels that her support of abortion on demand equals her support for the death penalty of those convicted of heinous crimes. She tells us that she feels that pro-choice Democrats have become “callous and extreme” about abortion. How you can, in the same breath, find that abortion is protected by the fourteenth amendment which gives equal protection to all persons under the law and then equate an innocent unborn person with a convicted murderer is beyond me. And to call others callous in the process. But such is the life of an ardent, courageous “pro-abortion supporter” I guess.

Troubling even more is that she glances over her support for Margaret Sanger, noting only in passing Sanger and Planned Parenthood’s origins promoting eugenics; she never mentions the fact that much of the purification of the gene pool was aimed at blacks. No, Camille became disillusioned over Planned Parenthood when she realized it became a “covert arm of the democrat party.” And leaves it at that. Not because Planned Parenthood and the democrat party are systematically killing unborn not-quite-human-victims, many of them black mind you, but because they are a “covert arm of the democrat party.” Which of course, is news to no one at all.

At least Camille points out that nature oppresses women in far greater ways than men do. But the left doesn’t quite go for biology; see the entry above from Webster’s. In fact, if they can’t find someone to blame, they can’t create more victims. Like Camille, I too consider myself quite libertarian, leaning more conservative. And yes, my own views on abortion frustrate the bejeebus out of everyone. Want to have an abortion? Go ahead. On your own dime. With your own child, not mine. Explain it to your God, or Gaia, or whatever you call your conscience, but leave me out hell out of it. I have no right to tell any woman who is not carrying my child what she has to do with her body. Sorry friends, I have always felt that way. I have no more right to control you than you have to control me. But that’s not good enough for second or third wave feminism. What was once a movement about reproductive rights became sex without consequence; the choice at the front end of the act de-coupled from the consequence of that “choice.” And somehow, you decided the government needs to get me involved. Either I pay for your abortion or pay for your offspring. I got just as sick of the feminist movement over abortion as Camille seems to be. And of course, I’m told I hate women because of it. Camille, you dammed misogynist. It appears that feminism was just a change in how women could fund their victimization due to the burden of pregnancy. Being supported by a man is heinous; having his financial support coerced from him and filtered through the government; a-okay.

It’s interesting to note that she brings up what she feels were the “flimsy and overblown” charges leveled against Clarence Thomas. Interesting in the fact that during the same period, many young men like myself were ardent supporters of equal opportunities for women; even though we were constantly subjected to harangues of how evil men were as we stood should to shoulder with those slinging these arrows. I was concerned for my sisters (biological!) and the future Ms. Messydesk and possible daughters. But I was raised to be considerate of women; yes we were taught to pull out the chairs at the table, open doors, give up our seats on the bus. And more often, I was looked upon with derision for those actions, even to the point of being publically berated on more than one occasion. Maybe it isn’t biology that second and third wavers were struggling with, maybe it was friggin’ manners. Who knows? But it became tedious. I would always be the enemy and they were dammed sure to let me know, no matter how many signs I held up side-by-side with them. Or maybe it was because I expected them to become truly self-sufficient. And called them on it.

To be consistent, Camille should also discuss, not only how feminism misses the point on the biology of women, but also how feminism has declared war on the biology of men. Fatherhood is a joke; a quaint but antiquated social construct. No need for a man to make a child anymore. A strong father figure in the home is a vanishing breed. Any of the adjectives once used to describe the rugged male individual that women used to long for and men wanted to be like were discarded long before the Marlboro man choked out his last cigarette. No, we were now being forced to take sensitivity classes, wear pregnancy suits for a whole day, quizzed by our prospective paramours on whether we are afraid to cry, told to be less introspective and more talkative and for god sakes, take off those sweats and put on some dammed skinny jeans. Emasculation of the American male is really the goal here. This is no longer about equal opportunity, to raise women to their potential. No, the gap between the sexes, regardless of the dictates of biology like muscle mass and bone structures, uteri or prostate glands, could only be diminished by disparaging those traits that made males uniquely, biologically male. From Marlboro man to pajama boy in less than a generation.

But it’s even worse for those runny-nosed little heathens, boys, dealing with that toxic soup of the evil testosterone while they try to sit still in class, dreaming of pulling on that mesmerizing, swaying pony tail at the desk ahead of them. Society now treats them as predators in waiting, busted for a simple hug or stolen kiss on the playground, labeling them as serial sex abusers long before they develop the slightest wisp of pubic hair. Great cottage industries have grow up around diagnosing little boys as damaged little girls who might just be saved if we drug the natural, biological tendencies out of them and exchange their Tonka trucks for Barbie’s dream corvette or pry GI Joe from their hands, replaced by any one of the My Little Ponies. We wonder why children are facing dilemmas about their sexuality in far greater numbers; because we can’t face biology and project our inability to come to grips with it upon those who are currently at that stage in their lives when it has the most emotional and physical impact. Why do we teach little girls to fear and hate little boys and little boys to hate themselves. Go ahead; deny it if it helps you sleep better at night. Maybe you’re courageous too, like Camille.

We’ll never settle the debate over abortion. Unfortunately, we’ll never even agree to disagree. Some of us believe life starts at conception. Others believe life begins when society decides it does. Like maybe when you make it home from the hospital. In any event, feminism has moved to a place where I can no longer recognize why I, as a male, believed in it so strongly when I was younger. I still believe my daughters should have every opportunity to try anything they are capable of. And I also believe that their success should not be predicated on the demonization of the other half of the species. Feminist can deny their biology all they’d like; to each his or her own. But the issue still remains that what I see as the brand of feminism displayed today is nothing more than vitriol, self-loathing and an intense feeling of, maybe a celebration of victimhood. And if abortion is their Holy Grail, we should also note that biology includes death; the death of over 50 million babies aborted since Roe V. Wade. Mom went to Planned Parenthood and only brought back a tee shirt.

So like Camille, I’ve become quite disillusioned with feminism. I will however leave you with one last comment. If you can celebrate the death of your unborn child, then struggling with biology is likely not the only thing we can’t agree to disagree on.


Never liked crunchy peanut butter; always went for the creamy style. I guess the taste may be the same when you get down to it; after all, creamy is just the peanut ground to a finer texture, no hint of the shape or physical definition of the aforementioned peanut. Totally unidentifiable at that point. Of course, there are those who just swear by the texture, relishing in the remaining crunchy bits of peanuts that escaped the factory-grade grinding wheels that were set just so, leaving the sought-after bits and pieces they desire in their PB&Js.

Was this a difficult choice?

Was this a difficult choice?

Dr. Gatter is hawking her own less crunchy “bits and pieces”. She instructs her would-be customers that she can have her factory alter their manufacturing process to a “less crunchy” methodology, leaving the buyer with a product that’s far more intact, if that’s what they prefer. Wouldn’t it be nice if she was only discussing the lifeless, lowly peanut? But alas, like those who are defending her, she sees no more value in a human life or human dignity than she sees in a peanut. This is, remember, the definition of women’s health. Creamy or crunchy. A woman’s right to choose.

The abortion debate always brings out the worst in both sides of the question. No movement. No collaboration, no compromise. You either support this heinous procedure or you hate women. Simple. Or, if you support any reasonable approach to restraining abortion, you get blasted by both sides; defending murder, not protecting life; a msyoginist who wants women pregnant but in the kitchen makin’ those sammiches. Whether either extreme end of the spectrum wants to believe it or not, there are a vast number of people who find abortion abhorrent, see it as taking an innocent life but quite possibly, something that they would continue to accept under narrow circumstances. For many of us, it’s about saving a woman’s life; not her life style. Of course, we’re not much appreciated by either side.

If it wasn’t so disturbing a topic, the recent Planned Parenthood revelations about selling broken babies would illuminate where we stand on the scale of humanity and simple dignity. I scour the papers, web and blogs quite a bit and the conversations about the recently released videos are downright depressing. Both sides have dug in deep but the debate is somewhat slightly skewed. Believe it or not, the majority of the debates end up wandering around the validity of the video; was this a set up? Was the video edited or doctored? Was she taken out of context? “This group is out to get Planned Parenthood” some say, “so anything they produce or present is slanted and not to be believed.” It’s almost as if they want you to believe that someone had a gun to her head, that she had a written script in front of her, a coerced confession as it were, all fake, not real. This doesn’t really go on in today’s society. Truth is, I don’t know exactly what the law says in great detail about trafficking in human body parts, but if you’re standing so close to the legal line that you could be pushed over it by the slightest breeze, then maybe your intentions aren’t as pure as you would have us all believe.

At this point, the validity of the video is moot. Whether this doctor or the one previously recorded knew they were being recorded (unfair!) or not only changes the narrative away from the procedure that needs to be addressed out in the open. How anyone can justify pulling a live child out of the womb, stopping at the point of leaving the head inside so one can puncture the skull, suck out the brains and then crush the skull to make the final removal easier, well that justification is hard for me to accept.

Defenders of Planned Infanticide want to keep the focus on the veracity of the video, not about the horror of the procedure that started the whole conversation to begin with. And as deeply as they study this video, looking for any edits, trying to put words or statements in “context”, maybe they should be forced to view one other video in greater detail. (Please do not click this link lightly; it is very disturbing. I apologize for the horrific scene.) This is the video that should be discussed on the nightly news, in every home, in legislative bodies. Many who support this procedure have never seen this, never taken the time to see exactly what it is they are asking me and others like me to accept. And yet, they know this is out there, know the horror of it, but chastise me, call me a hater because I am repulsed by it. Please tell me that we are, as a race, as humans, far better than this type of abomination.

If you I and cannot agree that this is a barbaric way to end the life of a human baby, then we will certainly never be able agree on when that life began in the first place. Show some humanity. In fact, it should be easier than choosing your favorite brand of peanut butter.

I have very little idea of who Lena Dunham is. I think the only time I ever heard of her was when a reporter caused a kerfuffle by asking her about her nudity on her HBO show “Girls.” Disclaimer; I hate HBO, and I’ve never seen “Girls”. Don’t know if I’m missing much, but hey, I ain’t paying so I ain’t complaining. The question drove Ms. Dunham into what she called a “Rage Spiral.” What I gathered from that exchange is that Ms. Dunham is entitled, immune from any sort of questioning and you do so at the risk of sending her into a “Rage Spiral”. It appears that Ms. Dunham is spiraling once again, this time because people had the audacity to review her memoir and publish exactly what she wrote. Her words, it seems, are offensive to her but only if you take them at face value. Not sure how else she intended her readers to take them, but you be the judge.

Ms. Dunham; actress and part-time geologist

Ms. Dunham; actress and part-time geologist

A couple of weeks ago, I’m perusing through National Review and find a review of her book that I glossed over rather quickly. I’m not into pop-icons, either to revere or trash them, so I never got past the first paragraph or so. Now however, it seems that the article has spurred quite a conversation about Ms. Dunham. And to be frank with you, I had to go back and re-read it to find out what the fuss was all about. Surprise; Ms. Dunham describes in detail things that she did to her younger sibling that would at the very least, make your hair stand on end. Well, for most of us anyway. For others, well I’m not so sure. And feeling that way obviously makes me and others who are disturbed by her admission, the weirdo’s. Sweet. Let’s just take a peek for a moment at what Ms. Dunham writes in regards to her activities;

“As she grew, I took to bribing her for her time and affection: one dollar in quarters if I could do her makeup like a “motorcycle chick.” Three pieces of candy if I could kiss her on the lips for five seconds. Whatever she wanted to watch on TV if she would just “relax on me.” Basically, anything a sexual predator might do to woo a small suburban girl I was trying.”

Okay, not sure what the intent is here, but anyone who says that they are practicing the fine art of grooming an abuse victim has issues. What the hell does “relax on me” mean? Because I find her admission disturbing, I’m a right-wing hater. Bite me. Of course, there’s this little gem;

“I shared a bed with my sister, Grace, until I was seventeen years old. She was afraid to sleep alone and would begin asking me around 5:00 P.M. every day whether she could sleep with me. I put on a big show of saying no, taking pleasure in watching her beg and sulk, but eventually I always relented. Her sticky, muscly little body thrashed beside me every night as I read Anne Sexton, watched reruns of SNL, sometimes even as I slipped my hand into my underwear to figure some stuff out.”

Neat-o. She’s basically a seventeen year-old predator, snuggling up against her eleven year-old sister, masturbating the night away. Oh, and I’m the one who is disturbed.

It’s interesting, a little startling actually, to see people come to her defense, explaining it away as a youthful indiscretion, playing doctor, as it were. Just ask Jimmy Kimmel. Can’t say as I’ve ever played doctor, and certainly wouldn’t have considered my sisters as the willing patient, although I’m not sure a one year-old would be able to consent in any way. The story always went something like two pre-pubescent’s, alone on a secluded corner of the playground swapping peeks into each other’s Garanimals, trying to understand the stark differences in their physical appearance. Show me yours, I’ll show you mine. Oh hell, who am I kidding; we always tried to get the girls wearing dresses to hang upside down on the monkey bars. So of course, that makes Ms. Dunham’s treasure hunt into her one year-old sister’s vagina okay. Her words, not mine;

““Do we all have uteruses?” I asked my mother when I was seven.

“Yes,” she told me. “We’re born with them, and with all our eggs, but they start out very small. And they aren’t ready to make babies until we’re older.”

I looked at my sister, now a slim, tough one-year-old, and at her tiny belly. I imagined her eggs inside her, like the sack of spider eggs in Charlotte’s Web, and her uterus, the size of a thimble.

“Does her vagina look like mine?”

“I guess so,” my mother said. “Just smaller.”

One day, as I sat in our driveway in Long Island playing with blocks and buckets, my curiosity got the best of me. Grace was sitting up, babbling and smiling, and I leaned down between her legs and carefully spread open her vagina. She didn’t resist, and when I saw what was inside I shrieked. “My mother came running. “Mama, Mama! Grace has something in there!”

My mother didn’t bother asking why I had opened Grace’s vagina. This was within the spectrum of things that I did. She just got on her knees and looked for herself. It quickly became apparent that Grace had stuffed six or seven pebbles in there. My mother removed them patiently while Grace cackled, thrilled that her prank had been such a success.”

Please read that again. Go ahead, one more time. She wants you to; it’s in her friggin’ book. It is after all, well within the “spectrum of things she did.” To a one year-old. To her baby sister. Couple of questions here; When my daughters were one, they had a helluva a time with their dexterity, chubby little fingers dropping the over-sized Duplos and wooden blocks. And everything went into their mouths. How does a one year old manage to pick up a handful of pebbles, push aside her pampers and deposit the secret treasure neatly into her vagina? Or even better, why would she do that? At a time when the greatest fear of every parent, reinforced by warnings from pediatricians everywhere, is to keep small items out of reach of your child because they have a tendency to put everything in their mouth, Ms. Dunham’s little sister has a go at jamming items well up inside her vagina? Let that sink in for a minute. I’ve had to reach deep into a drooling mouth many a time searching for buttons, loose coins, heads of dolls, keys, you name it. Never once had either of my daughters decided it would be a great time to play hide-and-go-pervert with daddy’s car keys. Someone neatly placed those pebbles there or the child had ample grooming that helped her develop the fine motor skills beyond her age that enabled her to do so. Perhaps in the Dunham home, this was well within the spectrum of things they did.

So Ms. Dunham is once again in a spiral, this time threatening to sue the conservative website “Truth Revolt” for what amounts to printing exactly what she wrote in her book. It should make for a great show trial. She’ll probably have to go after all the other outlets, including National review who excerpted her book as well. She has canceled her book tour, originally outraged at being described as a sexual predator, now claiming she’s ill. Yes dear, you are ill. And so are those who defined your actions as purely innocent “playing doctor”, seeking to give a pass on behavior that would surely have scarred a one year old, behavior that continued until you, Ms. Dunham, were seventeen and presumably well beyond “playing”.

Ms. Dunham has been lionized for being edgy, out there, speaking her mind unabashedly. She is now lashing out at anyone who read her own words with disgust, surprised and hurt that her “edginess” has not been accepted as the new normal behavior she would like you to believe it is. Sorry dear, I don’t know who you are, never really cared to find out and don’t plan on getting HBO anytime soon. But your own words have come back to haunt you and I’d take great pleasure at seeing you move this forward into a court of law. Maybe you can find guys like Mr. Kimmel to sit at the plaintiffs’ table with you.

Oh and by the way; yeah, it’s pretty sick.

Haven’t taken a week off in years. I’m  a “long weekend” kind of guy. But this last week was planned in advance to visit colleges in the area as I prepare to send my eldest off to her future. They call it the “Goldilocks” tour. Visit some too big, some too small hopefully to find some that are just right. Oddly enough, even though it’s relatively close, Brandeis University wasn’t on our list. Serendipity I guess. It’s a friggin’ shithole anyway.


What can we learn from this woman if we demand she be silenced?

Not to sound too harsh, but what the hell is going on at Brandeis? I’m sure there are probably a lot of good decent people there, but their silence and acquiescence tells a whole ‘nother story. Example; a supporter of Israel came under verbal fire recently by a member of the University’s “J-Street”, an organization that claims to be pro-Israel and pro-peace. Of course, like any good liberal, radical campus group, J- Street insists that it is committed to “improving the campus dialogue around the Israeli-Palestinian issue.” As you would expect from any liberal organization, that means that they’re right and you’re wrong. Dialogue over. J-Street campus leader Talia Lepson demonstrated the proper liberal technique on dialogue by verbally accosting pro-Israel activist Daniel Mael, calling him a “shit bag” and letting him know that “Jews hate you.” Well, that’s settles it then; we now know who speaks for all Jews. Ah, the tolerance of the left on full display. Apparently, Mael is supporting a film that openly describes J-Street’s disinformation about Israel. Even Alan Dershowitz believes that J-Street is being dishonest about its positions on Israel. He had offered to attend J-Street events and have an open debate but he was denied the opportunity. Dialogue-shmialogue. Concerning the confrontation between Mael and Lepson, Brandeis informed inquiring press that the department does not speak to the press on weekends and recommended the reporter “call back later.” What the hell does that mean? It means we’re right; you’re wrong, na-na-na-na-na-na. Just the kind of response you were expecting from an institution of higher learning?

Maybe it’s an Islam thingy. Don’t know for sure, but as much as they hyperventilate about Israel, they’re pretty dammed silent on the plight of the two hundred school-aged girls in Nigeria who were kidnapped by Boko Haram, an Islamist terrorist organization. Why so quiet? Of course, the same question applies to the left-leaning media as well. It’s that tricky little adjective, terrorist organization. One man’s terrorist is another man’s freedom fighter you see. Odd, if you look at Brandeis’ courses under Women’s studies, you’ll find a course offered on “Diversity of Muslim Women’s Experience.” One wonders, does a young school girl being kidnapped as a cook and sex slave qualify for this type of diversity?

Interestingly enough, as we got home late Friday I sat down to read the news and lo and behold, Brandeis offered another look at its diversity, tolerance and support of women in general. It has decided to withdraw an honorary degree from Ayaan Hirsi Ali, a vocal critic of Islam and its treatment of women. Their reasoning? Apparently she has said some not-so-nice things about Islam, like, “Once it’s defeated, it can mutate into something peaceful. It’s very difficult to even talk about peace now. They’re not interested in peace. I think that we are at war with Islam. And there’s no middle ground in wars.” Oh the horror. She pissed off CAIR who made the call to Brandeis and Brandeis folded, principles of women’s equality, diversity and tolerance be damned.

Sweet. Was Ali’s biggest crime talking about Islam in a negative way, or was it the compelling story of her life, surviving beatings, genital mutilation and an arranged marriage? Or maybe it was because she renounced her religion? What was the last straw for this bastion of higher learning, free speech and thought? Anyone’s guess.

I’m not sure what I find the most disturbing about this. I’m equally torn by the fact that university President Frederick Lawrence has been cowed by CAIR, and that 85 professors supported his move as did thousands of students. Thousands of students who have decided that her story must be silenced. They have been educated well indeed. Or indoctrinated, take your pick.

What kind of education do I want for my daughter? Not this kind. Let’s see, she can go to her “sexuality and queer studies” class and afterwards, stop by the student health center for her monthly contraceptive stipend. Then she can walk across campus and protest for on demand, tax-payer funded abortions on her way to signing the petition to withdraw the degree from Ms. Ali. Heaven forbid she learns about the kidnapping of hundreds of young girls or hears the story of a woman who had her clitoris scraped from her body, all in the name of the religion of peace. Good god no, that would make them as bad as the “Little Sisters of the Poor” or Hobby Lobby for crying out loud.

I thought that president Lawrence was an idiot, but that didn’t quite cover it. Maybe a hypocrite? Too friggin’ obvious. No, he’s something much more dreadful, more dangerous. He has the minds of young impressionable students in his hands. Coward? Again, obvious.

No, he’s an enabler. As are the eighty-five professors who gleefully followed his lead diminishing the voice of a woman who has gone through more trials in her lifetime then they ever will collectively. And in their wake, they have left over a thousand young minds numb to the reality that there are women suffering horrifically at the hands of an ideology that they embrace and protect from scrutiny. To them, battling for justice and diversity for women means struggling to stay awake in their warm, comfortable desks, listening as their learned professors of enablement drone on about “Feminist theories in Historical and Cross Cultural Perspective.”


Gee, ol’ Marty just did every one at MSNBC a big fat favor; he spared them from having to discipline a soldier in their own war on women.  Yup, the network with the president who once described it as “The place to go for progressives” found yet another knuckle dragging closet tea-partier in it’s midst just weeks after having Alec Baldwin reveal his secret identity as a card-carrying homophobe.  Such a shame.  Shortly after Martin Bashir announced he was “resigning” from MSNBC, his heartbroken mentor President Phil Griffin lamented that Bashir “is a good man and respected colleague- we wish him only the best.”  Translation; boy, the company New Years party is really going to suck this year.

tarnishing the MSNBC brand?  shit no...

tarnishing the MSNBC brand? shit no…

Alec can’t be totally pleased about this though; he and MSNBC “mutually parted ways” almost immediately after his Freudian slip while Bashir was allowed to linger much longer.  Being the media shy person he truly is, Alec whined over the injustice just days after Bashir revealed his own twisted fetish, pointing out that Bashir made his comments live; on air and totally scripted.  Given the number of people it takes to produce, edit and air any type of talk show, certainly Dung-boy isn’t the only person who probably needed to have his mouth washed out with…soap.  Don’t expect old Phil to step into it any deeper though; Alec insulted GLAAD.  Martin insulted no one who was watching.  Certainly not NOW.  Or Ms. Maddow for that matter.   Hey, it was just that “other” type of woman. No need to be that tolerant.

Nope, the suits at MSNBC and the COMCAST boys are all just ducky with their own brand of hate and wouldn’t want it too obvious by having to step up to the plate and do the right, decent thing.  That would require principles.  Principles don’t quite cut it when you’re carrying water for the extreme liberal left.   They would have held on to dung-boy for as long as they could, seeing as how he hates the same people the same way they do. He picked the right target; he just didn’t have his shit together, as it were.

We wish you only the best Martin.  We’ll put in a good word for you at CNN.

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