Tag Archives: Rick Santorum

Ricky Retardo

BAKER STREET

by Eric J Baker

I was all excited to review the new Ashley Judd primetime drama, Missing, until I realized I’d actually have to watch it. Because how can a show about an ex-CIA agent turned MILF tracking down her kidnapped son possibly work? If she finds her son, the show ends. If she doesn’t find her son, she looks like an idiot.

Judd slipping up. Literally.

I still love me some Ashley Judd (I watched Twisted in the theater, for Christ’s sake). In fact, she’s the most appealing Judd in the entertainment business, and that includes Jud from Oklahoma, the world’s most boring musical. But I just can’t get enthused for a TV series with plot inertia built into the premise. Maybe you should review it and let me do the reading for once. Could you be more selfish and lazy?

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The Santorum Sanitarium

THE WEEK FROM MY VIEW

by James Killough

When the compassionately irreverent sex-advice columnist Dan Savage proclaims in a Tweet on March 13, after the big upset in Dixie, “Santorum… officially not funny any more,” maybe we should consider taking Rick’s own Cirque du Ridicule seriously.  After all, it is Savage who hammered a sizable dent in the Republican candidate’s reputation when he created the wildly popular neologism that Santorum means “the frothy mixture of lube and fecal matter that is sometimes the byproduct of anal sex.”

Even after her success with the royal wedding, Burton is killing with her own brand of McQueen.

While I understand Savage’s alarm, the situation is actually funnier than ever, especially if you follow it with enough detachment not to get sucked up into any sort of panic.  True, there are various scenarios wherein the inmates could take over the asylum, but they are unlikely enough that we shouldn’t live in fear of them ever transpiring.

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Happy Birthday, Mr. Prophet

KILLOUGH CHRONICLES | THE INDIA FILES

by @James_Killough

I cannot imagine what it must be like for twenty-three-year-old Hamza Kashgari right now.  It’s one thing to be Salman Rushdie, already a Booker Prize-winning novelist when the fatwa was issued against him by the ayatollahs in Iran after he willfully went against everyone’s advice and published The Satanic Verses, but quite another to tweet a series of messages addressed to Mohammed on his birthday that the Prophet himself might have approved of.

One man's devil is another man's god.

There is no existing iconography of Mohammed—or there shouldn’t be— because he explicitly forbade it.  He didn’t want to be worshipped and deplored any form of idolatry.  As we in the West often imagine what Christ would think if he came back and saw the sorry state of what his teachings have wrought over two thousand years, the same would apply to Mohammed.

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Quit While You’re Behind

THE KILLOUGH CHRONICLES | MAKING HATTER

by James Killough

I keep telling Baker and Tuttle that we’re moving away from this whole Marcus “Marcia” Bachmann gay thing, but then something pops up to keep it current, like my buddy Shawn Riegsecker sending me this wonderful YouTube vid yesterday:

I don't even know where Minnesota is exactly, but God I wish I'd been there for this.

If you are too lazy to watch the video (just click on the image above; I didn’t embed the video), it shows a bunch of gay neo-barbarians “glittering” Marcia’s ex-gay clinic in Minnesota.  For those who aren’t up to date on this, Marcia uses government money to try to brainwash Gheys via scalding enemas of self-hatred and magical thinking (a.k.a. religion) into denying who they really are.  What she is doing is so beyond outrageously offensive and borderline criminal that it needs to be hosed down with serious humor and satire, the only effective antidotes to the poison of evil intentions.

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