thoughts from an empty head

DISCLAIMER: This post might end up a bit profane, so if that sort of thing bothers you, feel free to skip ahead. I don’t use profanity much, as I feel that it is the sign of an underdeveloped mind, but sometimes, it’s called for. And believe me, for this subject, it’s called for.

Lately, I’ve been shying away from getting all ranty about the stupidity that is endemic with following political pundits. I mean, what’s the point? Douchebag X says something that’s offensive to anyone with half-a-brain, I and others like me get mad about it, blog about their asshattery, and wait for the next round of stupidity to commence. Sure, outfits like Media Matters are necessary evils for keeping up with all the muck – after all, when some clueless person asks why I wouldn’t listen to Douchebag X even after they came down from Mount Sinai with two hand-carved stone tablets, I can whip out a handy list of reasons why any sensible person would question Douchebag’s sanity – but for someone like me, I can think of better ways to spend my time.

The Bush years were a good time for such asshattery, too. I couldn’t turn on the tube or sit down at my keyboard without being verbally pied in the face by some Douchebag. And there certainly were a plethora to choose from: Hannity with his chest-thumping mealy-mouthed bravado, Coulter with her beady-eyed viciousness, O’Reilly with his loud-drunk-and-groping act, Beck with his commentary style so reminiscent of a 13-year-old kid lighting his farts on fire, Malkin with her screechy self-hatred – the list goes on and on. And for invading my mind and laying their foul eggs of stupidity, I could gladly relegate them to oblivion and never speak of them again for all eternity, content in the knowledge that their repugnant ways will never again darken my personal space.

But one dickhead stands alone among all dickheads. One pathetic worm of a demagogue can always be counted on for statements even more egregious than the last mental farts he provided. He’s been around for what seems like an interminable length of time, spewing his bile, and were he not more proficient in his craft, I might also relegate him to the pile of slain undead wingnuts who shall be named nevermore.

Rush Limbaugh, however, is a special case.

Rush is not the first demagogue to make use of the mass media cesspool that is AM radio. Look back further into the history of this country, and learn the name of Charles Edward Coughlin, should you wish to see just how far back the blight of mass skullfuckery runs in these good ol’ United States of America. He is, however, one of the most effective. In my brief life, I can’t remember a time when Rush wasn’t spewing his repugnant bile, whether on his short-lived TV show or hearing his bloated, self-important tones on a coworker’s radio. I even sat through a few of shows from start to finish to ensure that my initial reaction was correct; sadly, I was only too correct in my impression of this fatuous gasbag.

Recently, I’ve posted a few items in my new second home, FriendFeed, concerning Rush Limbaugh, none of them flattering. Doing such a thing almost always guarantees that a few will come out of the woodwork to comment negatively on my commentaries and views on their hero, and in this venue, such was also the case. Invariably, the question always returns to why such people would use the demented ravings of a divorced drug-addict for moral stability. Many theories are given. Some believe that he is sincere, which, if this is the case, speaks more to the notion of collective dementia than is comfortable to think about. Some believe Rush to be a comedian, usually in the context of “he can’t be serious” or “he tries to be funny”, but after seeing Rush and Ann Coulter on the late, unlamented Half-Hour News Hour, … well, see for yourself.

Mind you, that was supposed to be funny.

I have my own theory as to the secret of Rush Limbaugh’s longevity. I think I know the reason why such a horrible scrap of a person still is held up as the beacon of truth in a dark world. And it says more about us than we feel comfortable admitting, but it needs to be said.

Rush is not an entertainer. He is not a comedian. He is not a font of wisdom or truth.

Rush Limbaugh is a master at making you feel good about being an asshole.

Look, everyone has asshole tendencies, regardless of your political stripe. That little rush you feel when you cut someone off in traffic? Asshole. That little bit of glee you get when you manage to pull one over on the boss? Asshole. That small bit of joy that envelops you when you get more than you paid for, usually at the expense of someone else? Ass. Hole. For the most part, we tend to justify our asshole tendencies to small matters, figuring, “Hey, everyone does it, right? Might as well get mine.”

That’s what Rush Limbaugh provides, three hours a day, five days a week – the right to feel good about being an asshole, especially in big things. Hate black people? Well, those welfare queens and pimps deserve it. Hate Mexicans? Well, they need to stay in their own country. Hate lippy women? Stupid feminazis need to learn their place and realize that sometimes a little grab-ass is fun. Universal health care? Civil rights for everyone? Clean water and food that doesn’t cause health problems? What are you, some kind of hippie? After all, why should your good tax money support THOSE PEOPLE? Why can’t they just get a job?

And Rush doesn’t just stop at telling his masses who is to blame, either. He gives them the Bizarro logic they need to push back at the ones who call them on their bullshit. Just parrot back these easy-to-understand talking points and you’ll shut those stupid moonbats up, but good. Just tell ‘em Rush sent you, and watch their little heads explode. After all, why think about all the bad things that happen around you? Just let good ol’ Rush tell you who’s to blame for today’s mess, and you’ll never figure out that the guys who use people like Limbaugh to keep you from asking hard questions have been gaming you all along.

And so, millions of Americans, their backs broken by the shithouse they’ve let this country, and this world, become before their eyes, take their cues from a four-time-divorced, pill-popping, draft-dodging, dead-president-worshipping, bottle-of-Viagara-in-the-Dominican-Republic-not-his asshole. Over and over, day after day, the pusherman gives the unwashed masses the benediction they feel they are due. After all, aren’t they the princes of the universe? Aren’t they REAL Americans? MY COUNTRY, LOVE IT OR LEAVE IT. And every day, their world contracts more and more upon itself – unemployment, bad food, no security, war without end.

And they love him for it. Irony, thy name is Limbaugh.

So, no, I don’t feel one ounce of sorrow or regret at exposing this asshole for what he is. He has been a bane upon the collective intellect of this country for as long as I can remember. And maybe, just maybe, enough people will realize the truth about this clown and come around to a similar conclusion, thus pushing Limbaugh into the early retirement and banishment to oblivion he so richly deserves.

One less asshole to worry about.