Late Nite FDL: Atlas Wept
Hooray for those rapscallions at Sadly, No! Such bad boys. They managed to scare up (operative word, "scare") Pam from Atlas Shrugs’s latest contribution to the brave new world of vlogging. (For some reason, embedding has been disabled. Why, Pam, why?! This is your best vlog yet!)
Oh, Pamela. What would we do without you? Whenever we need proof that right-wingers are batshit insane, you’re right there. Whenever I need someone to point to as an illustration that Pox News viewers have all the intellectual acuity of a box of (low-salt, slightly stale) Saltines, you come through! What a treasure you are! You’re the gift that keeps on giving. The only more useful idiot for our side is possibly Jeff Goldstein, and even his agonized, frantic struggles to reconcile himself to his hidden homosexual yearnings aren’t as fun as watching your wee, addled brain melt and run out of your ears when there’s a camera trained on you. It’s loads of schadenfreudian fun. For the whole family!
Tonight’s vlog entry provides us with a veritable cornucopia of malapropisms, incoherent ravings, bizarre facial contortions, and the added plus of seeing her mocked in real time by an eleven-year-old. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover with this one, kids, so get comfortable. The Princess of the Pajamas Media team has gifted us with quite a giant steaming video-turd to deconstruct. Break out your biohazard gear, a clothespin for your nose, and wade on in with me! Come on, don’t be scared! It’s okay, I’ve done this before. It’s fun.
Let’s get started!
Pam introduces this entry by telling us she’s been getting lots of letters asking for "video". And you made this, Pam? I don’t think that’s what those heavy-breathing, one-hand-typists who write to you have in mind. I think they’re thinking more along the lines of BOW-chikka-wow-wow videos, like, you making zitti in nothing but a string of pearls and a feather boa, you know what I mean?
But for our purposes, this’ll work.
Mistress Pam introduces us to her special guest today, Margot, an eleven-year-old girl whom we can only assume that Pam has included in order to get John Derbyshire’s attention. I don’t think that’s Pam’s kid (who would ever let her have kids?). Maybe a niece? A neighbor? An unsuspecting village girl lured in by Pam’s house made entirely out of gingerbread and candy?
And why bring a child who hasn’t even scraped the lower rungs of puberty into the rough and tumble world of video blogging? To talk about George Clooney, of course. (Or, as Pam says, "JAW-idge cah-LOOO-neeee".) She asks little Margot what she thinks of George Clooney talking about Darfour, but before the wee girlie has even opined beyond, "I think…", Pam interjects, "Lemme tell ya what she thinks! This is what she thinks! She thinks he’s an idiot!" and she’s off to the races!
And here’s where she descends into that peculiar form of logorrhea (look it up) and disjointed ranting that seems to be her default state. Did you know that the whole problem in Darfour is actually a result of "black on black crime"? It’s "MUZZ-lum fahndamentuh-lists killing MAH-derite MUZZ-lims". And what’s her problem with Clooney here? "He can’t say ‘jee-HAHD’, fifteen minutes with Sam Shepherd…!"
"Shepherd Smith," interjects our camera operator, who sounds like she’s about the same age as Margot.
"Sheppitt Smith, whoevah, I don’t particularly care for him," Pam says. She never quite explains why Clooney was remiss in not saying "jihad". Was he on Wheel of Fortune and trying to solve the round? Was it what the voices in her head said he should say? Was it Pee-Wee’s Secret Word of the day?
Well, ours is not to question why, right?
And then the clip starts to get really priceless. Pam begins to sing the praises of Big Oil, and how it’s good for the economy, and it appears that little Margot has about had it with the Ranting Crazy Lady. As Pam gathers steam and prepares to blast off on a one-way trip to What-the-Fuckistan, Margot begins to ape Pamela’s over-the-top gesticulations and mantis-like head movements. And this alone is Pure Vlogging Gold.
Pam, honey, even eleven-year-olds think you’re a whack-job. Take a hint, lady!
I could turn off the video and go home satisfied right there, but, being utterly shameless, and possessing all the self-awareness of a toilet-brush, Pam gives us a couple more money shots on the way out.
"WHEYAH," she demands of Congressional Republicans, "ah you-ah co-YO-nees, yeh TEST-uh-cles, yeh BAWLLS?!" Then, remembering there are children in the room, she says, "Sorry, girls.", mimes biting her nails, and decides that perhaps she’s said enough for one post.
BUT! Not before she mentions that the "ee-LEEE-gal AY-lienz" are asking the "MUSS-lims" to march with them. "Aztlan!" she cries, "Aztlan, you wanna maaahch wit’ us?"
Clearly, Margot is confused what the lion from the Narnia movie has to do with this. Her eyes are starting to glaze over.
Before the frame goes black, though, Pam has one last bit of wisdom to share with us.
"You can’t have a really evil group," she says, "unless yew-ah hatin’ the JOOOZ. What’s wit’ dat?"
"Mental illness!" she intones, answering her own question, and then gives us the biggest gift of all. Her, doing crazy-fingers at her temples (see illustration at the top of this post), and then cork-popping her finger in her mouth. Mutliple times.
"See ya!" she chirps, "Would-ent wanna BE ya!"
Oh, Pam, you don’t know how mutual that feeling is on my part. You just don’t know.