A Wisconsin pizzeria is making news by racking up sales delivering donated food to anti-governor protesters, with orders called in from as far away as Egypt and South Korea. Which illustrates yet another difference between liberals and Kochsucker proxies: When the enlightened take to the streets, it’s good for business.
Post Category → wingnuttery
They bring a gun, you bring a falafel
It’s only two years now, but I’m starting to suspect Mrs. O kinda likes fucking with the kkkrazies. After she’s been declared a nutrition nazi, she puts not one but two sausages on the Super Bowl menu, plus cheeseburgers and deep-dish pizza and stuffed potatoes and wings and ice cream etc. You’d almost think she was a real American.
Caribou Crunch Supreme
In another example of this country’s exceptionalism, the inimitable Charlie Pierce notes that the Mubarak family has big holdings in those sportswriter favorites, Chili’s restaurants. Wingnuts’ heads will explode when they see that chain is not just moving into Moscow but is the opposite of Chick-fil-A. . .
Also, too, socialist Spudnuts
Apparently the word most Americans recalled most from the Big O’s State of the Union was salmon. Which proves it really has become the chicken of the sea. I only hope all those Villagers who think arugula is esoteric heard the adjective that made the joke: smoked. Once upon a time that would have lain there like a lox.
Did someone say “Metropolis”?
Say what you will about Martha Stewart, she did the time after getting rooked into doing the crime. Too bad the pubic justice of the Supreme Coke will never do the same — even though in not disclosing his wife’s serious income from wingnut think tanks, he appears to have violated the very same law that sent the beacon of style to the hoosegow. I do wonder why she’s slapping her name on the made-in-China crap I got for xmas (which I suspect was re-gifted, because who would keep a timer so flimsy, or a tea infuser so cheesily overwrought?) But at least that’s better than taking money through the back door of your wife. In an ideal world, the silent one would be condemned to an eternity of “singing and dancing” while baking, on a channel no one watches.
Fear the sprouts
I shouldn’t be surprised, considering how inured Americans are to ordure in their beef. But it says it all that a few people died from drinking Four Loko and the stuff was banned. Thirty thousand a year die from guns and loons are allowed to run out and buy more after a massacre. Maybe someone should mix caffeine and alcohol in Glock clips.
In the top 14
Getting the serious stuff out of the way first: It was quite telling that Giffords’ husband issued a statement advising anyone who wants to do some good as she heals to donate to the Tucson Community Food Bank (and the Red Cross). One reason my birth state has gone batshit insane — more than usual — is that it’s not exactly in prime economic health. The Chimp did a number on this country . . .
Just add red, trendy as the Cat
My consort laughs at me for wandering into the cesspool that is the WSJournal’s opinion pages, but many times it pays off. You need to know the enemy to see what’s ahead — ugly so quickly accelerates. Take the letter to the editor after a rational column advocating calming the fuck down about butter, cream and bacon. Rather than attacking the writer or the science, the Astroturfer went after a dead icon, noting that Julia Child had breast cancer at 51 and asserting that she had “chronic weight problems.” (Call this anus the jerque who mistook a 6-foot woman for Paul Prudhomme.) “Child Wasn’t a Good Health Model” is a helluva hed when you consider she lived to 91 (they could look it up) and kept her bile well contained. I’m assuming the Murdoch health insurance plan comes with very good drugs.
As the good Nestle dubs it: Agri-culture war
Thanks to Obamafoodorama, I see Mrs. O has decked the White House with boughs of cranberries and pomegranates and other edibles. I hope she’s ready for the shitstorm from the kkkrazies who’ll be upset she isn’t using Double Downs and Happy Meals and other real American food. Only traitors don’t need insulin.
Gourmettes Live
I’m way behind on my book readin’, but a couple of enticing reviews of the new Mastering the Art of Lost Correspondence did finally entice me to pick up my copy. Flipping through quickly, intending to go back and revel at leisure, I was amazed at what first caught my eye. One caption had “traveling in Province,” and another mentioned Curonsky. With so many trained wordsmiths out there, desperate for work for any fee, why would the publisher not run this past one last set of cheap eyes? Or, given the cult of the Child, solicit volunteers?
But the one letter I randomly read almost compensated — Julia ranting in 1953 about our hometown paper: “Such a horrible report of a priest’s speech, supporting McCarthy. The way they say it’s only the left-wingers who are against him. I really read those things and scream from the stomach.” Which sorta describes how the sane feel these days plowing through gushing coverage of today’s wingnuts who think tea comes only in a bag. So to speak.
Get the government out of his EBT
It’s getting so it’s impossible to count all the reasons to despair over the state of “journalism” these days, what with nine-hour spiels on the Senate floor written off as a tempest on the Twitter, and self-proclaimed valley-trash fame whores on magazine covers. But the stunt a privileged kid pulled in gaming the food stamp system for an “exposé” hit a new low. And guess what he discovered: You can buy $19-a-pound swordfish with government benefits. Math is a weak point with wingnuts, as evidenced by the mess they’ve made of the federal budget over the last decade, but you would think he would understand one extravagant shopping trip does not a month’s meals make. I’m just amazed he didn’t go down to Holy Foods in a pimp outfit.
Turkey flight from socialism
And speaking of cringing in the grave, Squanto would probably care less about attacks from wingnut blowhards than he would about Thanksgiving recipes calling for fresh corn in late November. Stick a fish in it. That harvest has been and gone.
Having your Kwanzaa cake & your condescension, too
Also, too, the crap you find on Twitter: The usually sensible Kevin Drum touted a cretinous op-ed by a wingnut who is convinced the Democrats lost (the Senate) because they look down on real Americans who prefer to throw together processed crap and call it a meal. (Or something.) That ranks right up there with the Villagers’ knowing references to “the salad bar at Applebee’s.” Never let facts get in the way, of course. First, the whole piece was built around the election of a “loser:” Andrew Cuomo, he of the questionable taste in consorts. And then there’s the little omission that said consort has, according to her main showcase, sold 3 million cookbooks. Which sounds like a lot if you want the government out of your Medicare. By contrast, Thomas Keller has sold more than half a million copies of only one title, “The French Laundry Cookbook.” Pollan’s “Food Rules” has been on the best-seller list for nearly a year. A higher-class easy-cooking book is No. 1 right now. Unfortunately, even as I looked up only those few contradictions I realized the real fatal flaw in the idiotic argument: Morans can’t read.
Candy corn at home, blackface at the bar
Back in the Chimp’s reign of error, I remember being in a restaurant in Torino where the owner asked if we were Americanos and I had to say: “No, no — New Yorkese.” Guess I’m going back to that since the Big O lost the equivalent of one of three Michelin stars and everyone’s decided he’s out of business. At least we got some amusement in this miserable campaign season: Semi-Homemade was kept as far out of sight as the Chimp himself. Apparently the big fear was having New Yorkese realize if we wanted to eat her crap we would have stayed in Iowa.
Not from the Latin for kidnapper
Finally, dragging out the soapbox here: Americans are sitting by quietly while we squander $190 million a day in Afghanistan, the same kind of misadventure that helped bring down the Soviet Union (Atrios has come up with a great unit: an MIA — one month’s spending wasted in that godforsaken country that could pay for tunnels or rail lines or multiple schools here). But let some unknown blogger get ripped off by some obscure “magazine” and the mobs are out with blazing pitchforks. (Is that really worse than writing whole columns about recipe epiphanies without crediting the recipe writer?) I’m all for armchair activism, but use it for stuff that matters. Like net neutrality. Or one day you won’t be able to post your bilious comments fast and free. Let alone your saccharine musings.