I know it’s been a while, I hope you didn’t think I’d forgotten you. But when I heard that you’d hired Ben Domanech to set up his own tumescent little outpost of wingnuttia at the post.com, I just had to give my home boy a shout out. I don’t want you to think this is that disingenous GOP "thanks, Russ Feingold" brand of appreciation that explodes with the pop of Brit Hume’s cranium. No, it’s the sincere faint-when-you-see-the-Jaguar-wrapped-in-a-bow-on-Christmas-morning kind of thanks (I know your kind like to talk about "values" so I figured I’d pick one you could relate to.)
Just as the time of reckoning approaches and the Washington Post will, like it or no, have to take responsibility for all the flagrant, credulous warmongering it did in a fit of BushCo. access rapture, you guys hire the most thick-witted, mouth breathing home schooled freak you could lay your hands on. The respectable journalists who have managed to survive the Patrick Ruffini sycophancy of John WATB Harris, the jejune truthiness of Deborah Howell and the simple fact that one of the biggest stories of last year was how the paper’s own superstar fucked you over and then wouldn’t talk to you about it are no doubt cringing in the bathroom stalls.
They must’ve really been jamming sharp objects into their eyes this morning after Domanech took them to task for their lack of Red Dawn acumen. Oh, lordy Jim. I have to tell you, if I’d been writing a send-up of a right wing blogger I could not have done a better job.
You went straight to the Red State racist woodpile and extracted a full-on jingoistic feces flinger to feature on the Post web site, an unrepentant GOP operative without a shred of journalistic credibility. Nice touch. Because he balances out what, Froomkin’s IQ? Already the hunt is on to extract every stupid thing he’s ever said, every soupçon of doltish ignorance for which he has ever claimed authorship to be collected and disseminated throughout the blogosphere and beyond.