10 March 2012

A Jewel in the Head of the Toad Party


Dear Dr. Bones,

Party Neocomrade (seventh grade) R. X. Shibley is only another pajama-draped discontinuity in the atmosphere, though of course you should put the name in dossier #318(b) all the same. Just in case.

What matters here, though, is the Freelord Prof. Doc. of Landsburg, who -- alone among recorded wingnutettes an’ wingnuts -- has "defended in economic terms Limbaugh’s (obviously joking) suggestion."

The critical nullity of the PNC7-RXS mechanism is proclaimed by how one cannot be absolutely sure after any finite number of rereadings that it does not suppose that *any* account of the economic consequences of Dr. Limbaugh would be obvious jokin’. Or that Von Landsburg himself was only jokin’, as if the seminar rooms of an imported-from-Prussia graduate school admitted of levity.

Very properly, his freelordship reserves all his more cheerful thoughts for the trailer-trash modern medium of das Blogtum, which, as we know, is invariably a locus of "therapy, not journalism." Since Von Landsburg can’t be cheerful in School, he maybe goes overboard a bit at recesss, what with those freelordly an’ kiddiemagisterial "contraceptive sponges."

But reflect carefully please, O Bones, about what is due from us to


Fairembalance, the Fox Godess
(( Fairembalance, the Fox Godess ))

in cases like this. Paddy McTammany, for one, cannot pretend with a straight face either (A) that "contraceptive sponges" is not a rigorously inferrable economic-rhetorical consequence of Dr. Limbaugh [1], or (B) that Perfesser Von Landsburg blogs in pretty much Paddy’s own blithe and autotherapeutic spirit. [2]


Happy days.

___
[1] A supposer could, I guess, suppose that it is not so much a ‘consequence’ as a sort of loner or wildcard CliffsNote™ -- not a new "Variation on a Theme by the Witch Doctor of Democracy," but only, as it were, a transposition from Rush Minor into some other key. (At Rio Limbaugh/Port Ste. Lucie, neosolmization must undoubtedly run somethin’ like "Dough, Rush, ¡ME!, ¿Fa?, ¿Sol?, ¿La?, Tee, Putty." To which I respond, _¡Sancte Iohannes!_

[2] His perfesserial freelordship conceives self-bloggin’ is so Paddy-like a spirit that one might even raise small points of technique. For example, HFL clearly shares our own notion that BLOCKQUOTE is far from adequate to set off one’s swipes from the rest of one’s baloney.

The Landsburger bologna is not worthy of its frame, though: I mean, it is pretty silly to announce (above the box) "the worst imaginable argument" an’ then (below the box) get reduced to the feebleness of evaluatin’ this incomparably awful no harsher than "might be true ... but [¿]so what?" Perhaps his freelordship ought to take Miss Alice’s sage advice an’ try to imagine six worst arguments every mornin’ before sittin’ down to his _Wurst und Speck und_ cornflakes.

Still, I believe Firstlord Dr. Limbaugh pretty much said "It is cheaper to foot the bill for contraception than to to foot the bill for childbirth." Certainly Himself informed us--far, far too many times for this keyboard’s taste--that pregnancy is a disease. Indeed, unless Dr. Alzheimer is at it again, Himself formulated the contents of the _boîte landburgesque_ far better than the perfesser does, pointin’ out that contaception/babykillin’ spares the sponges not merely "the bill for childbirth" here an’ now, but the tuition bills from Wingsdale College or Wombschool Normal University fifteen or twenty years hence. ¡Talk about a "gift that keeps on giving"!

But I see I had better examine the horse’s own anatomy a little. ... Hmmm...

Rush Limbaugh’s website, RushLimbaugh.com, reportedly no longer contains transcripts of his misogynistic attacks on Georgetown University Law school student Sandra Fluke -- comments that have been widely condemned and that are now causing companies to exclude their advertising from his show. Politico reported that Limbaugh’s website "seems to have been scrubbed clean of some of his notorious comments."

Reportedly--observedly, actually, 03/10/2012 05:36--his firstlordship’s hired hands have jimmied the search engine so that anythin’ with a fluke or a sandra in it matches all manner of hirephantical drool an’ Peruna way back into February that is nothin’ to the point.

Though nifty in a nerdish way, this plan strikes Paddy as "Baroque Reactionary" programming style: instead of just quitely shuttin’ the barn door now that the mare has got out, Ms. O’Gyny orders a maze built in the barnyard to distract attention. Not for the first time WhightGuard behavior puts Paddy in mind of the Fowler brothers’ marvelous machine for converting clean knives into dirty one.

Nearer the center of the ever-immortal Herrnstein-Murray ©u®ve™, the one for common sense, nobooby would think of usin’ a lead balloon to cover up an outstandin’ sore thumb.

Sang the learnèd bard,

Wheresoe’er I turn my view,
All is shiny neo-new.
Endless labour on the site,
¡Endless labour to look whight!
Phrases Rush hath squirrel’d away
To put Libs in disarray,
Tricked by camouflage an’ nutty
Wads of Limbaugh-Lipton Putty (®).



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