HUGH AND CRY

It's funny in a just-caught-the-neighbor-banging-his-sister kind of way to watch Godidiot extraordinaire Hugh Hewitt bitch and moan about the L.A. Times' coverage of the search for a new old pope. He whines at impressive length in the course of his sentence-by-sentence critique, but here's the money passage:

"The very first sentence: 'Cardinals gathering to choose the next pope like to say they are guided by the Holy Spirit.' Get it? We all know that 'Holy Spirit' stuff is just a cover. Nobody can believe that nonsense in 2005."

Object lesson: When dealing with idiots -- especially religious idiots -- always be on the alert for sarcasm or rhetorical questions, because idiots use these devices to plug gaping holes in their arguments. Therefore, with only a jot of critical examination of such dreck, you can quickly shred an idiot's entire complaint.

In this case, we have Hewitt stipulating that the press is misguided in implying that the God concept is a joke. Guess what, Hugh: They're right. Complain all you wish, but until you or someone can explain exactly why it's not ludicrous for 116 cardinals (whats?) to be scampering around the Vatican and meeting in conclave for the purpose of choosing the Catholic Church's next envoy to the supernatural, you're on the bottom of the pigpile. Show us the Holy Spirit or explain where we can find it. While you're at it, tell us just what it is and what it does. If you can't, feel free to table your strident bellyaching.

If you don't think Hewitt is a moron, understand that he, like far too many Americans, cannot distinguish a mechanized corpse from a human being: "...the entire world watched the cruel death of Terri Schiavo against the backdrop of her family's suffering and the pitiless march of the ideology of anti-humanism."

Object lesson: Grandiloquence, no matter how pronounced, cannot impart utility or truth to words expelled wetly and sloppily from a moron's tightly puckered anus. The extent to which religious goofballs have co-opted and dramatized the death of someone whose expiration was the furthest thing from either a surprise or an injustice is just mind-blowing...well, no it isn't. Not only were the Jesus freaks out in full force during the Schiavo affair, but every politician and political columnist in the world wanted to turn a family ordeal into a Republican-versus-Democrat circus-war. Assholes like judge-strong-arming bumpkin-trash lobbyist whore Tom DeLay gave the media even more reason than usual to behave as it did, but the basic and exceedingly relevant medical aspects of the Schiavo case were largely ignored, because people had ensconced themselves in one of two opposing camps: dingbats wandering around with homemade crucifixes held between crossed eyes and secular humanists intently following and fomenting the legal proceedings culminating in the permanent removal of Ms. Schiavo's feeding tube. The latter group essentially hoped she'd just get on with it and die so that the Christian dolts clinging to the scene like moist dingleberries would finally dry up and fall away: Score one for the left.

No one gave a rip about Terri Schiavo's life -- the one she once had, not the existing she did for the past 15 years. Hewitt, who uses her for his typically nauseating and pious grandstanding, exemplifies the crass invocation of her name for rhetorical purposes, the stumbly-fuck conflating of her death and 皜he pope's in a lame effort to reveal some sort of cosmic significance in their dying so close together. Schiavo, simply put, served as a great pawn in others' public posturing games. Hell, even übercrank Paul Campos at least mentioned her long-ago eating disorder, so we know at least a little bit about how she lived back in the day. Ever-steady John Leo almost rises above the fray with his analysis of things, but even he's probably part of the problem. So am I, or would be if more than a handful of people visited this blog.

I could take a step back and acknowledge that both politicians and the media have only been doing what's expected of them in having a field day with this issue, but what fun would that be?

Anyway, there's an upside to religion and the people who squander their lives pursuing every nook and cranny of their faith: Every time I think I'm wasting time on some pointless endeavor (such as blogging), I can take solace in knowing that in my bumbling and fumbling I at least concern myself with extant issues. How pitiful to spend one's life in the service of God only to unknowingly wind up worm food alongside the heathens and the ordinary folk like Terri Schiavo.*

*Obvious pimping of zeitgeist and defenseless deceased person
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