July 22, 2011

Bill O'Reilly

Bill O'Reilly

Pro-choice activists like to drum out the old, “But what if she was raped by her father? Should she have to keep the baby?” This is similar to gay-marriage advocates who keep saying, “But what if she’s in a car accident and her wife wants to see her? Should she be kept in the waiting room?” Both take something that never happens and try to scare you into changing your views. The problem with the right is they won’t allow abortion under much more reasonable circumstances. What if she missed two periods and couldn’t possibly provide for the baby? No problem. It’s a fucking bean at that point. After nine weeks it’s a person and no, you may not have an abortion after that. I’ll force the pro-choicers to accept that if the right can bend and allow abortionists two months of wielding the old Womb Broom.

There’s nothing I hate more than hearing Bill O’Reilly bitch about rap and how great black music was back in his day. All that doo-wop crap sounds like a well-trained minstrel show to me. When Curtis Mayfield dared to stop crooning “It’s All Right” and started singing about “Miss Black America,” white people didn’t like blacks being honest and singing about their lives. You see the same outrage today. Southern rap is crude and sexist and materialistic and juvenile but it’s pop culture, fools. And it’s honest. And it sells. What—just because it’s some fat, tatted-out black guy with gold chains and man-boobs talking about big-booty girls licking whipped cream off his nuts, suddenly you’re against the free market?

I was in a debate in Montreal about prostitution on local TV. It was two anti-legalization nerds against me and some other guy who had paid for sex in the past and figured that was just fine. Not that I found it particularly enjoyable. I want women to be gagging for my cock, not to find it so disgusting, they need $100 to touch it, and even then only if it’s wrapped in latex. The argument was going along all right, but I got the feeling the anti-prostitution side had never really looked up from their books. “Have any of you ever actually slept with a prostitute?” I asked. They said no and when I went further by asking, “Have you ever even met one?” the answer was still no. My third question was, “Well, then, why are we even here?” Stats are great, but you need to round out your argument with at least a squirt of personal experience. You can’t defend the helpless streetwalker when you’ve never even spoken to one. Prostitution is a pretty good job if you’re dumb, horny, attractive, and in a relatively safe city like Montreal.

Heroin is an evil drug that takes away your fear of death and leads you down a dark corridor and pushes you into the abyss. However, if you’re going to talk about the drug war and tell us about the dangers of all these opiates, you should probably have at least one notch in your bedpost. You can’t snort dismissively at people who want to legalize pot when you have no idea how funny it makes your friends and how scary it makes horror movies. The downsides of drugs are well-known to anyone with a computer, but to see the whole picture you need to get really, really high. Youth may be wasted on the young, but never really being wasted at all is just as bad.

Every adult male should know how to fight, fuck, and—yes—dance. You can’t accuse the right of not being able to fight. Pat Buchanan used to destroy anyone who made fun of his slow brother when he was a kid, and you’re not going to find a lot of all-American types who can’t throw fists. That’s why they enjoy football so much. I’m willing to wager they’re not great at fucking because to watch them dance is to watch an old man die. What are they doing with their arms? They look like straight guys trying to become gay. Nobody’s saying you have to go out and take salsa lessons, but you can’t be a well-rounded individual worth listening to if you haven’t experienced life, and if you can’t dance it means you haven’t partied enough. That’s my biggest problem with the right—their gaping lack of partying credentials. You’ve gotta fight for your right to party on the right!


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