Media mean girl
The patron saint of Despicable Jerks is Alice Roosevelt Longworth – Teddy’s daughter – who famously said, “If you haven’t got anything nice to say about anybody, come sit next to me.” Alice would have loved Britt McHenry, the ESPN reporter suspended for a week for insulting a tow truck clerk. If Britt could join Alice for tea today she might have opened the conversation by saying, “lose some weight baby girl.” Perhaps Britt would find the restaurant serving the tea to be wanting and say to the waitress, “I’m in the news, sweetheart. I will fucking sue this place.” Instead of leaving a tip, Britt might offer this advice to the waitress: “I have a degree and you don’t. I wouldn’t work at a scumbag place like this. Makes my skin crawl even being here. Maybe if I was missing some teeth they would hire me, huh?” One might have hoped that sometime during Britt’s career at ESPN she had discovered something John Wooden said. “Sports don’t build character. They reveal it.”
From comedy to farce
Like the Keystone Cops of the silent film comedies, the United States Secret Service has at long last become a “Laff-Riot.” First there was the whore employment scandal in Columbia. Then came the incidents of maniacs jumping the White House fence, with one jumper making it to the unlocked front door and inside the mansion for a special face-on-the-floor tour of the East Room. And who can forget the night two hard-drinking agents nudged a barrier aside with their SUV to enter a crime scene near the White House – apparently to lend some boozy expertise. Now comes Tax Day, April 15th 2015, and a nut case mailman from Tampa Bay, Florida, who flew his gyrocopter through some of the (theoretically) most protected airspace in the world to land on the lawn of the Capitol Building with a fist full of protest letters. The guy even talked to the Tampa Bay Times about his trip and the paper called the Secret Service to report the crazy mailman. But the warning was apparently ignored or shelved by Chief Inspector Doofus. It’s a good thing the gyrocopter jockey was a fairly benign crank. The next guy might not be nice enough to call the local daily and might deliver something more troubling than photo-copied complaints about campaign financing.
Tea Party enthusiasts and crazy people have lately been singing “I wish I was in the land of cotton,” to express their fanatical support for the equally fanatical behavior of the new junior senator from Arkansas. Tom Cotton embodies the spirit of old Dixie in that line from the de facto anthem of the confederacy as he promises to blast away all things Federal, like the Affordable Care Act, the new farm bill, and every other program designed to enhance the health and education of Americans. At the same time, he wants the Feds to spend a whole lot more on military hardware than even the most strident old hawks think is in line with both National security and Conservative spending ideals. Then, of course, there is Senator Cotton’s attempt to conduct his own foreign policy by threatening the leaders of Iran during sensitive nuclear negotiations with the U.S. State Department. Independent Senator Angus King of Maine says it’s like Congress sending a letter about the Cuban missile crisis to the Soviet Union in 1962 saying, “Don’t worry about that guy Kennedy. He doesn’t speak for the country.” History will decide if Cotton is a traitor as some have said, but he certainly qualifies as a jerk.
Nothing says “love” like a shakedown.
You’d think the symbol of two people falling in love would be as cherubic as the usual illustrations. Unfortunately, Cupid’s influential twin is an evil, greedy jerk who equates love with money. If you don’t go to the poor house for the costly flowers, candy, restaurant tabs and crotchless panties being pushed every February 14th, you’re not really expressing true love. It’s time to shoot this rapacious Cupid in the ass with his own arrows, write a love poem with a ballpoint pen on a plain white sheet of paper, fall out of love with commercial Valentine’s Day excesses and into love with simple pleasures like hitting the sack with your sweet pattoo.
“Despicable Jerks”…I give it 5 skulls. “The Interview” only gets 3.
As an entertainment critic, Kim Jong-un makes a very good public enemy and vile dictator – just like most entertainment critics. That’s usually high praise for a critic, unless you happen to be running the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea and starving your citizens of more than good theater and torturing them with tools more severe than a pen. That is why Kim is a despicable jerk. He appears here for one very good reason. If he ever finds this page he will shut it down and threaten us, so it is time for every good American to sign up in this website to receive notices every time a new jerk is published. All right-thinking patriots should rush to their favorite online bookseller and order “The Modern Compendium of Despicable Jerks” before Kim corners the market on this insanely witty and colorful work. God Bless America!
Word has it that coal mines throughout the globe have been working 24/7 to keep up with demand for anthracite. It seems there will be more than a few stockings with the stuff.
Just remember, even Scrooge got a “get out of jail free” card at the 11th hour. Just sayin’.
There’s “Naughty” and “Nice”, then there’s JERKS!