I see over at Wolcott’s place that Michael Fumento is raging against the machine, well not exactly the machine since Michael loves the machine, so let’s just say that he feels like he is being persecuted like Jesus of Monsanto:
“The witch hunt has been ongoing, but my eventual involvement began when Doug Bandow lost his column after acknowledging to Business Week that heâ€™d written pieces for pay for notorious lobbyist Jack Abramoff. Bandow was long a critic of environmental activists, and when he went down a light bulb lit up over their heads.”
Or was it a burning torch?
“They realized they might eliminate more of their critics by simply accusing them of being paid corporate shills, and then siccing the media on them to see what they could dig up. They assembled an ‘enemies list,’ giving it to reporters at publications including the New York Times and Business Week. I have locked horns with green groups for the past 15 years and earned a spot on that list.”
A spot he’s proud of, and will defend to the last cup of Sanka, morphing in the last graf of his Townhall column from a Salem witch wrongly accused to Robert Stack swashing his buckle in John Paul Jones.
“If all this sounds insane [no comment necessary], remember there really was a time when harmless old biddies went up in flames simply because a neighbor wanted their land or livestock. But Iâ€™m no ash heap. The environmentalist[s] THINK theyâ€™ve shut me up. Wrong. I have not yet begun to write.”
Now if you’ve never heard of Fumento, well, join the club. He’s a D-list pundit on the order of Gerard Van der Leun, but with a penis (a vestigal one, but they still count) who was hired by the braintrust at Monsanto to “make them look gooder” or at least make us all forget that City of the Future exibit they used to have at Disneyland with the big blinking eye looking down upon you like a disapproving God. Or Walt Disney – same thing. The fact that Monsanto chose someone whose influence is positively bathyspheric is one of the great mysteries in life along with te popularity of Enya, but I guess they spend at least $60,000 a year on urinal cakes alone, so why not Fumento?
But you have to admire his personal John Paul Jones (the sailor not the bass player) pose whereas I would have gone with Joe Keller.
But that’s just me…