Yeah, wingnuts have a hard time with the concept of "consent."  And with having to go through airport security like regular folks.

And here's more hilarious Gitmo humor from the previous week's column, "Losing their heads over Gitmo.'

Martinez explained his nonsensical call for the closing of Guantanamo by asking: "Is it serving all the purposes you thought it would serve when initially you began it, or can this be done some other way a little better?"

There are Arabs locked up at Guantanamo, no? Admittedly, not enough. (And not under what any frequent flier would describe as "harsh conditions.") Still and all, Arabs are locked up there. That is what we call a "purpose."

Locking up Arabs -- what better purpose could any (innocent) building serve?

This was the piece that featured the memorable conclusion:

Dinner on an America West flight from New York to Las Vegas consists of one small bag of peanuts. Meanwhile, one recent menu for suspected terrorists at Guantanamo consisted of orange-glazed chicken, fresh fruit crepe, steamed peas and mushrooms, and rice pilaf.

Poor Ann just can't get over the thoughts of that orange-glazed chicken and rice pilaf.

Maybe that's why she made the following claim while guesting on Fox's "Dayside."

They [liberals]  had a president getting oral sex from an intern on Easter Sunday in the Oval Office, and what they have on DeLay is which account a campaign contribution went into. [...] This is just going -- they want it to be against the law to be a Republican, and they would like us in Guantánamo.

Ann desperately wants liberals to lock her up in Guantanamo and feed her.  And then force her to do her Karen Finley act.

 

Here are a few other good Ann moments from 2005:

* In February, while discussing the Eason Jordan story on "Kudlow & Cramer," she quipped, "Would that it were so! ... That the American military were targeting journalists."

* In October she claimed on John Gibson's show that she had "never heard of Scooter Libby until 10 minutes ago"

* In a December column she compared John Murtha's actions (calling for an eventual pull-out of the troops) with those of Oliver North (falsifying and destroying documents, obstructing Congress, and accepting an illegal gratuity) and Randy Cunningham (tax evasion, conspiracy to commit bribery and fraud).  And then she went on to suggest that Murtha wasn't entitled to his Purple Heart.

I've never heard a single liberal preface attacks on Oliver North with a recitation of North's magnificent service as a Marine. And unlike Murtha, who refuses to release his medical records showing he was entitled to his two Purple Hearts, we know what North did. (These Democrat military veterans are hardly shrinking violets when it comes to citing their medals, but they get awfully squeamish when pressed for details.)

At least she didn't accuse him of blowing himself up with his own hand grenade while drinking with his buddies, like she did Max Cleland.

And many more! 

But I think you get the picture.  And if you like your wingnuts to push the envelope when it comes to vile comments about others (but to be pretty sensitive when it comes to people tossing pies or distorting photos of HER), then Ann is your Ultimate Wingnut.

 

 

#2.  Pastor J. Grant Swank, Jr.

 

It's been a busy year for Pastor Swank, since he's written approximately 17,000 columns in the last 12 months.

While time and space (and the integrity of the time-space continuum) don't permit us to mention even a fraction of his greatest hits, here are a few of our favorites:

From Saturday, there's "I’M COMFORTED: MUSLIM SITES SEARCHED."

Islamic killers international setting up schemes in every corner of the planet. Islamic suicide enthusiasts wiping themselves out to have eternal orgies with playboy bunnies.

[...]

Now with all that going on would there be any reason for the US federal government searching Muslim areas for possible malcontents? I would think so.

Yeah, they were searching private property with radiation detectors (not Midge Decters) because they were looking for possible malcontents who like Playboy bunnies.  

(And while we prefer "Murderers Global" to "Islamic Killers International," the phrase does show the patented Swank touch.)

Here's a snippet from a column from a couple of weeks ago: "CHRISTMAS WITCH: THE DEVIL IN ‘SILENT NIGHT’." 

How low can one stoop? A school has boys and girls singing the revered Christmas hymn, "Silent Night," as a secular song in their holiday program this December.

This is blasphemy. This is absolutely intolerable. This politically correct to the devilish degree. This just can’t be tolerated. America, all America, regardless of faith, should rise up to declare the Ridgeway Elementary School deported to Castro’s Cuba. Or better yet, the heart of China

Yeah, send those elementary school kids to China -- that will teach them to be in an operetta that put different words to the music from "Silent Night"!

Then there's "We Were All Once an Embryonic Cell."

Embryonic stem cell research is the same as murder.  

There's no beating around the bush from Pastor Swank!  (We were going to follow that comment with a pun concerning the Pastor's tendency to arouse himself by writing about President Bush, but we realized that it would be wrong.) 

But here's one of his "Bush / freedom spread" columns: "RESEARCH: FREEDOM SPREAD GOING FORWARD."

But in other geographies, freedom spread is becoming a contagion. That is most encouraging to those who breathe liberty breezes daily. Therefore, all the more that the free countries support such efforts as those exhibited by the US President George W. Bush and colleagues. His administration has spent the first and second terms primarily seeking human liberties expanded.

Trust him.  Bush is all about human liberties expanded.

And there was the column about Hurricane Katrina: "NEW ORLEANS’ SIN BROUGHT DEVASTATION: ‘REPENT AMERICA.’"

"Southern Decadence" was set for New Orleans soon. It was to be a yearly hoopla celebrating practicing homosexuality as a legitimate, giddy lifestyle.

Thousands upon thousands were going to crawl all over New Orleans "to celebrate their sexuality," according to Methodist lay preacher Gary Hopkins of Ekklesia.co.uk.

[...]

As far as Repent America is concerned, divine judgment has come upon a metropolis that was bent on making its environs open to hell’s demons. Therefore, God intervened. There will be no "Southern Decadence" skipping the light fantastic. Over and out. Done. Gone. Under water.

Pastor Swank believes in a vengeful God who will smite you silly if you look at Him wrong (or open your city to demons by letting homosexuals vacation there).

 

And you have to admire titles like:

"HOMO EPISCOPAL BISHOP GROWS SEVERAL EVIL HEADS"

"CHRISTMAS: CELEBRATE BY KILLING WOMB BABIES"

"COMBAT MURDERERS WITH FREEDOM: BUSH"

Not to mention the classic "''Onward, Christian Soldiers!' : Another State Nixes Homo Nups."

 

But some people (such as Brad) prefer the "I Believe in Miracles" series.  Brad retells some of these faith-promoting tales in "Pastor Swank's Story Hour" and "Carolyn, No (Pastor Swank's Story Hour)." 

My favorite in the series (next to the great "I BELIEVE IN MIRACLES: FAITH SURVIVED," which features the demons crawling on the church walls and the parishioners who are mean to the Swanks and then die and/or have children who are unchurched) is probably "I Believe in Miracles: The Suitcase."  It's the one about how the Pastor thinks his son is going to kill him, and so the Pastor prepares a suitcase so he can skip town, leaving his wife behind to die.

But I want to mention a lesser-known column from the series, "I BELIEVE IN MIRACLES: THE SCAR," which is about how his hernia scar saved the Pastor from a child molester at Christian camp.

Each bunkhouse had its own counselor — a male, usually a young fellow or a preacher from one of the churches. It was a glorious way to spend a week each summer. I would not have missed it for the world.

My counselor each summer was always Paul.

[...]

One day he and I were walking by some of the pup tents that the older boys slept in. We stopped, walked into a pup tent and then sat down on one of the cots. He sided up close to me. Then I felt him touch me. He gently touched my lower stomach. And then there flashed across my thoughts an uncomfortable interlude.

There was a scar that I wore just beneath my middle. It was from a hernia operation I had had when 4 years old. I was not really embarrassed by that scar but on the other hand I didn’t know what to do with it. No one had really seen it except my parents and myself. It always tucked itself conveniently beneath my waistband, even when I wore swimming trunks.

Therefore, when Paul kept his hand near that part of my stomach, I thought of the hernia scar, well healed over, but nevertheless still there. And with that, I stood up and walked out of the pup tent.

[...]

In some strange way I actually believe that that small scar, well healed, was a kind of miracle stroke across my skin.

The other boys who lacked such miraculous scars might have other memories of Bible camp.

Anyway, if you like your wingnuts really nutty (and enjoy really creative uses of the English language), then Pastor Swank's your man!

 

 

#1.  Dr. Mike S. Adams, Ph.D.

Dr. Mike with LaShawn Barber

Dr. Mike has has a full year as well, since he's almost as prolific as Pastor Swank.  (Okay, Dr. Mike writes up to three columns a week, while Swank writes up to six a day, but Dr. Mike gets paid for his.)

Here are a few you might remember:

First, from February: "My new disability claim."

I, too, am now suffering from erectile dysfunction, or ED.

Worse than the discovery that I am now suffering from ED was the subsequent realization that I have been suffering from it for several years. Ever the empiricist, I decided to record the approximate dates of my previous, shall we say, difficulties in an effort to find the root causes of my medical condition. A brief summary follows:

In 2001, I was jogging on campus when I passed a group of feminists marching in the annual "Take back the night" event. After they marched by me shaking their fists and screaming, I first experienced ED. They certainly took back that night!

In 2002, I read the book "Intimate Reading" by a feminist professor in the English Department at UNC-Wilmington. After I read the section about her losing her virginity at age 16 (told in graphic detail), I again experienced ED.
In 2003 (February), when campus feminists marched around stage chanting "vagina, vagina" during the Vagina Monologues, I experienced ED again. Even worse, it happened to me on Valentine's Day (which, by the way, is not known as VD)!

Yeah, I think we've found the cause of Dr. Mike's sexual dysfunction: anything having to do with women and sex turns him off. 

Obviously, one does not have to be a college professor to see the common theme in all of these instances of ED. Put simply; they were all induced by feminist rage.

Oh, right, it's feminists that make him go limp, not vaginas.

And speaking of feminists (which Dr. Mike always is), there's this piece from March 24, 2005 : "A letter before Dawn."  It's one of those columns where Dr. Mike answers one of his purported correspondents, this one being a female student who has written to tell him about a poster for "The Vagina Monologue" that she found offensive. 

Dr. Mike gives her some advice:

I want you and your friends to dress like the angry feminists you criticize.

Wear your oldest pair of blue jeans, preferably without washing them for at least one month. Then, put on a white "wife beater" tank top. Do not shave your arm pits for several weeks (this one is optional) and under no circumstances are any of you to wear a bra (not optional). Use black magic markers to put slogans like "F--- Bush" and "F--- men" on your tank tops. Then get some "Vagina friendly" buttons from the Women's Resource Center and place them on your outer garments. Wear no make-up except for thick mascara. Top it all off with a black leather-studded dog collar from the local pet store. Fit it tightly around your neck. Then, you should be ready to go.

Because that's what feminists look like in Dr. Mike's world.  They also have teeth "down there" which can bite off a man's hoo-hah dilly.

In April he tried to raise funds for Townhall by telling his readers that the evil feminists of Canada were mocking him and his Letter Before Dawn.

Hi there! It's Mike Adams - the guy you were just talking about in your Canadian feminist chat room. I thought we had the angriest feminists here in the States until I read the following, which was sent to me from within the ranks of my "supposed readership":

"What can you do to fight such a thing? Townhall's Doctor Professor Mike Adams, PhD is an inveterate liar who has been accused of making up correspondence from his supposed readership to advance his patently women-hating views (...there is some scuttle-butt going around that he's in fact a self-hating homosexual who goes on 'hunting' trips with another suspected closet case and former-drug-dealer-turned-anti-feminist-mall-preacher/whacko Doug Giles)."

Well, now that you are reading the full text of your remarks - remarks you never expected to see broadcast in an internationally-read column - you are becoming painfully aware of the fact that I am not guilty of "making up correspondence" from a fictitious readership. Since anti-male feminist whackos really exist, there's no need for fabrication.

As we noted at the time:




  • John Cole awards Minnesota's own John Hindraker the Golden Wingnut Award:

    ...but after being staggeringly wrong on so many issues across such a wide spectrum, you would think the PowerLine folks would take just a moment for self-reflection. That would be only human.

    And some vintage "Hindrocket", via Balloon Juice:

    It must be depressing to be Paul Krugman. No matter how well the economy performs, Krugman’s bitter vendetta against the Bush administration requires him to hunt for the black lining in a sky full of silvery clouds. With the economy now booming, what can Krugman possibly have to complain about? In today’s column, titled That Hissing Sound, Krugman says there is a housing bubble, and it’s about to burst…

    There are, of course, obvious differences between houses and stocks. Most people own only one house at a time, and transaction costs make it impractical to buy and sell houses the way you buy and sell stocks. Krugman thinks the fact that James Glassman doesn’t buy the bubble theory is evidence in its favor, but if you read Glassman’s article on the subject, you’ll see that he actually makes some of the same points that Krugman does. But he argues, persuasively in my view, that there is little reason to fear a catastrophic collapse in home prices.

    Krugman will have to come up with something much better, I think, to cause many others to share his pessimism.

    Congrats also to Prof. Krugman, who won the Nobel Prize for Economics today.