somewhere along the way a clever soul finally noticed there is no “u” in profile and boldly placed their “i” within it. copy consists of rote ad nauseum of the relationship of the perceiver to the object, an insipid exploration of a parasitic attachment to a host. the spite of the boring and bromidic has been funneled into a career in publishing and the slow decline of traditional publications corresponds to the rise of self-absorbed hacks nakedly placing themselves within the piece. print remains dead. print is dead. and we have killed it.

“L’ego my ego”

“i am the lizard king – I can do anything!”

“well we’re big rock singers
we got golden fingers
and we’re loved everywhere we go
we sing about beauty and we sing about truth
at ten thousand dollars a show…”

as the apotheosis of talentless hackery, the political pundit cum movie star is a beacon of fatuous demagoguery that the world’s citizenry are beholden to so as to ease the burden of self emanating opinions and the crushing weight of thought. nowhere on earth has the fusion of dasein and nothingness been seamlessly fused than in the good ol’ u.s of a. …and how could it not be? entertainment capital of the world and cultural exporter of vacuous trash, where else but there could bonzo’s paternal influence, cher’s lesser half, a genocidal cyborg and captain stubing’s cabin boy be elected to political office?

facticity established without a doubt and transcendence asserted, it comes as no surprise the critic has climbed onto the stage to share the limelight of the glad-handing entertainer. no longer content to critique, the fray has been joined and many dollar is to be made by the politik of shock and the assertion that i and me now speak for we so that you know who is us and what is them. that money and time has been well-spent engaging the thought of “cash in” should be expected, but its elevation to culturally relevant discord seems to suggest that the punch and judy show has been somehow overlooked for centuries as the proper stage of political debate.

alas, it is now necessary to gambol in the manner of viswanathan cum coulter and assert that we all don’t want to abolish pundits. we simply want them to reduce our minds to the size where we don’t need to drag heads into the bathroom and drown ourselves in the bathtub.

“and did we tell you the name of the game, boy?”

“see, when you take a little bit of truth and then you mix it with untruth, or your theory, that’s where you get people to believe. You know? It’s like proper noun. previous proper noun said a little bit of truth, and then he mixed in “statement of blame, fallacious causation, bigotry or nonsense” That’s where things get a little troublesome…”

in this instance, radio talk show host glenn beck chose to substitute “hitler” for the proper noun while the statement of blame, fallacious causation, bigotry or nonsense was replaced with “‘and it’s the jews’ fault’”. what’s great about this structure is that anything can be reduced to nonsense with this wonderful oversimplification of logic. try using “joseph smith” and “polygamy”, “donald rumsfeld” and “the rumsfeld doctrine”, “rush limbaugh” with “and it’s the democrat’s fault”, “michael moore” and “and its george bush’s fault”, or “jesus” and “do to others as you would have them do to you”. should you be so bold, insert beck into his own statement so that “glenn beck” mixes in “his own thoughts” and we all begin to worry about how we’re spending our time…

perhaps it was an exercise of his fifth amendment rights that prompted h.l. mencken to accuse instruction as the perpetrator of incapability rather than punditry…or maybe it was an exercise in monosyllabic phrasing for simplicity’s sake; after all, ‘opine’ may’ve twisted the tongue and the mind of his american audience. alas not a composer of quatrains, the veracity of the statement has become anachronistic being that teaching has subsequently taken its place amongst the third state of a binary relation: void. relegating itself to the inert, punditry has asserted its claim to be the deficiency de rigueur.

be it bloggery, sunday morning shleppery or student newspaper strumpets, the ‘wit’ in witticism has been replaced with ’shit’ and shitticism. scads of ‘lone voices in the woods’ are calling out ‘wolf’, filling heads and ears with none of our beeswax, which has not obstructed the siren’s song but fills one with the urge to defecate themselves. and while a world of shit is not in of itself undesirable, one in which the waste cannot fertilize is. the spite of the slave and it’s ignorance has asserted itself, a multimedia expression of submission that reinforces itself, the ouroboros that feeds on its substance-less self to nothingness. the inevitable expression of rugged individualism, rigorous conformity and willfully militant ignorance, let us all enjoy this now the american experience, lest we forget it is an inheritance:

“we enjoy the comfort of opinion without the discomfort
of thought.”