It’s been awhile since we’ve posted about low-rent pundit Kyle-Anne Shiver, mostly because her once flavorful wingnuttery seemed to lose a few of its seven secret herbs and spices after she unsuccessfully played chicken with her employers. For those who may have missed or forgotten about it — it’s been a year — here is Kyle-Anne’s own America’s Most Wanted-style recreation of the crime:
I noticed that Creators Syndicate, with whom I was under contract for a weekly column, was allowing its liberal columnists to use the homosexual slang, “tea baggers” and “tea bagging,” in clear reference to American citizens protesting unconstitutional overreach and out-of-control spending of taxpayers’ hard-earned money. I lodged a formal complaint with the top editors and demanded that the practice stop. I said that I would disengage with the Syndicate if the practice continued.
The eagerness with which her editors snatched the proffered resignation out of her hand suggests they may have regarded it less as an act of brinksmanship, and more as an early Christmas present.
When the editors refused to even entertain a discussion on the merits of my complaint, and instead showed me the door, I apologized for my hastiness and tried to save the prestigious contract.
When they wouldn’t let her take back her ultimatum, she wrote another letter declaring that she’d been right the first time, and they should suck it. Since then, though, she has seemed to lose that keen and keening edge of crazy certitude which once distinguished her opinionizing, until now, her afflatus just seems deflated.
Nevertheless, Kyle-Anne is still capable of cranking out a decent column in her area of expertise: practical and applied stupidity.
California Wins Dumbest State Award in Landslide
It’s the proverbial morning after and with votes counted, California has won the Dumbest State Award in a historic landslide of monstrous proportions.
We’ve elected Arnold Schwarzenegger Governor twice, and you’re only now realizing that we’re stupid? I take it you’ve also just noticed our fondness for Wallabees, mood rings, and Dixieland Jazz?
All Californians can now see Greece from their bedroom windows. No need to even go to the backyards and crane their little necks.
To “crane their little necks,” refers, of course, to our practice of using penny arcade claw machines to harvest clams.
In the coming years, the unions, who have been bilking Californians in a protection-racket type scheme, will be taking to the streets in massive, destructive temper tantrums just like those out-in-the-cold workers in other failed socialist states across the big pond. It won’t be pretty.
Yes, it’ll be exactly like the way those blue collar thugs took to the streets in 1934 to avenge Upton Sinclair’s loss in the gubernatorial race — thousands of working class goons shutting down the docks and the factories, chanting “No Whitman, No Peace!”
All the while Californians have been lining the greedy pockets of union masters, they’ve also saddled their economy with the greenest of the green anti-pollution laws, which they’ve just voted overwhelmingly to keep in place. At the very same time, they’ve neglected their infrastructure to the degree that whole cities will probably be condemned shortly as uninhabitable by anything higher on the evolutionary scale than rats.
So remember California, by trying to protect the environment, you’re actually turning it into a barren, mutant-infested hellscape.
California’s sanctuary cities openly flout federal immigration laws with impunity now, but if they keep it up they’re going to face a loud demand from the other 49 for their statehood and immediate, irreversible secession by force.
Oh oh, you mean Mississippi and Oklahoma won’t let us subsidize their diabetes and oil spill damage anymore? Shucks! This is worse than a lesbian separatist being thrown out of the He-Man Women Hater’s Club.
Let’s start with the election of Governor Moonbeam. As I’m thinking of Jerry Brown’s reincarnated governorship, I’m already visualizing his mouth covered in duct tape for four years.
You’re in luck, Kyle-Anne, as there are several sites on the Internet which cater to this, and similar fantasies.
Honestly, I’ll be the first to admit that Meg Whitman, although a brilliant businesswoman, was not the most spectacular political candidate. But really, have Californians been so brainwashed that they mistake a forked silver tongue for actual abilities in the budget-balancing realm?
Granted a lot of people don’t have terribly clear memories of the 70s, but come on, Kyle, you couldn’t even open up Wikipedia? ”Upon taking office, Brown gained a reputation as a fiscalconservative. The American Conservative later noted he was ‘much more of a fiscal conservative than Governor Reagan.’ His fiscal restraint resulted in one of the biggest budget surpluses in state history, roughly $5 billion.”
Or $1 billion more than Meg Whitman lost when she bought Skype.
It’s enough to make bright citizens in the other 49 run for the barf bags. Never has a generation so disgraced their ingenuous, hard-working, self-reliant ancestors.
Most of my ancestors were douchebags, so who cares, but I have to admit that “ingenuous, hard-working, self-reliant,” perfectly describes my grandfather — or, as he’s better known to some, “that guy who voted for Jerry Brown in 1974.” And I still haven’t lived down the disgrace. Won’t someone please think of the descendants?
Nancy Pelosi’s disgraceful tenure as House speaker got the national drubbing she had been begging for since she first pranced around with the big gavel and unethically (illegally, probably) started her own foreign policy in the Middle East.
I disagreed with Speaker Pelosi’s decision to invade Iran, and in retrospect I probably should have spoken up, but I was afraid she would hit me with her giant gavel.
This woman has so disgraced America, her state, her gender, her Catholic faith, and the Democrat Party that she couldn’t have won election as dog catcher in any of the other 49 states.
It’s like the opening to Branded, with the other 49 states ripping off her brass buttons, epaulettes, and crucifix, and breaking her vagina over their knee.
And now to the cake-taker in California’s miserable showing yesterday. In a statewide race that had the entire country holding its collective breath, Californians decided to reelect “Call me Senator” Boxer, whose intelligence is so questionable
…that she actually thinks it’s pronounced “Democratic Party.”
To put icing on this purely poisonous cake, Madame Boxer was running against a candidate – Carly Fiorina – who had the rest of us in the other 49 drooling in envy.
It might not be envy. Drooling and foaming at the mouth is a sign that the cake may be poisoned with phencyclidine, cadmium, mercury, or rhododendron.
But what did Californians do with this golden-beyond-golden opportunity that the rest of us would have killed for? They blew it.
Even when news broke last week that Ms. Boxer had illegally implored California’s public school teachers to send their students to work for her campaign, the dumb-beyond-dumb citizens of California…
…who should just give it up and retire to On Golden-Beyond-Golden Pond.
…just rolled their eyes, donned their valley-girl ninny suits, and marched right in to vote for the Hollywood candidate. As those of us in the other 49 well remember, Senator Boxer is the brainy equivalent of a slug.
So, with no further ado, let me bestow upon California the 2010 award for the dumbest state in the entire union.
The awards banquet will be held Friday, December 3rd, at the Shrine Auditorium at 8 PM. Cocktail attire for the ladies, Ninny Suit and Tie for the gentlemen.
You Californians made your bed yesterday. Now sleep in it and don’t come crying to the rest of us when your lights go out, your water turns off, and your illegal-alien servants head back south.
We’re calling it “The Nanny Apocalypse,” or “The Day of the Day Laborer.” Cormac McCarthy is hard at work on the novelization.