The jejune charm of the blogoisie
We seem to have ruffled the easily-ruffled feathers of Ann Althouse who plays the
This morning I see that this character, apparently a somewhat popular blogger, spent the entire evening simulblogging my simulblogging. His motivation seems to have been that he had me pegged as a conservative, the sort of person he despises, so he was going to wait around and jump on me for jumping on Hollywood for being liberal. In classic lefty form, he makes plainly sexist remarks without seeming to think it counts against him! And his commenters fail to call him on it. His long post mostly consists of my statements, copied. To this he adds his repeated assertions that I’m boring and boys won’t like me because I’m mean and his generic comments that mostly just express antagonism toward a crude right-wing stereotype that has little to do with me (including imputations of racism based on utterly nothing that appears in my post). What a shameful display! He does append a meager apology at the end, when it seems to finally dawn on him that he’d been off in some fantasy world of his own all night, ideating about me. What the very idea of a woman with opinions does to a man’s… mind!
If Ms. Althouse were a card-carrying member of the National Pedestrian Party or the American Society for the Terminally Banal, I would cop to a partisan slam but la Althouse’s real crime is being dull. Dull, dull, dull. Cream of wheat on white bread in a pool of unsalted milk gravy dull. That has nothing to do with being a woman, a conservative (“His motivation seems to have been that he had me pegged as a conservative, the sort of person he despises, so he was going to wait around and jump on me for jumping on Hollywood for being liberal. In classic lefty form,”), or a pecksniff. It has to do with attempting to play the reluctant cultural critic when you can barely work up the energy to wipe the drool from your chin.
“And I relied heavily on TiVo, so, really, it was a snap compared to just sitting around watching in real time. I skipped nearly all of the speeches, all of the commercials, all of the walking to the the stage, and (the best part) all of the singing.”
You know if you skip everything in a Michael Bay movie except for the explosions… he’s pretty fucking talented.
(Note): I modified one of the links above to take you to Althouse’s second post…in fairness to her. Because I’m a gentleman and shit like that.