Wednesday, August 6, 2008

Robert Novak, Karma is a Royal Bitch, Isn't It?

In deference to those more even-tempered than myself, I should warn that profanity will ensue.

I've been wrestling with any number of reasons to take the moral high ground more often than I have. This isn't to say that I'm not a good person, but as some have pointed out, I'm not a nice person. I can live with that. I'm trying to be good, and as a vegan, I can appreciate the sanskrit belief of ahmisa, or the avoidance of violence. It is central to Vegan philosophy in that no animal or animal product be used. That means no meat, no leather, and nothing else obtained from an animal by violent means. It's a wonderful belief, but there's more than plenty of cases to press my adherence to Ahmisa.

There aren't enough ways for me to think about how I'd love to pound Michael Vick into a simpering little bitch, and that would be after I neuter him with the repeated trauma of having his genitals shot with a shotgun.

Loaded with Taser XREP ammo.

Thankfully there's a very short list of people I want to exact this sort of punishment on, but Robert Novak just made it to the top of the list. I grew up in Bethesda, Maryland. One of the things I had to endure was "The McLaughlin Group," a locally-produced political affairs roundtable tv show moderated by a pompous gasbag named John McLaughlin. I thought that it would go no farther than any other of DC's assclowns like Marion Barry, but "The McLauughlin Group" was nationally syndicated by PBS (Thanks, motherfuckers. Thanks a lot for that). The tragedy is that many if not all of the commentators who have ever sat on the Mclaughlin Group thought they possessed rapier-like wit worthy of Dorothy Parker, H.L. Mencken, and the rest of the Algonquin Roundtable when in reality, even the most even-tempered of McLaughlin Group Alumni had the charisma of a dried-up Coney Island Whitefish. It was one of the first soapboxes upon which Robert Novak revealed himself to being a bitter, angry, Napoleonic Cunt. Then again, if I looked like one of the residents of Innsmouth from H.P. Lovecraft's brilliant short story The Shadow Over Innsmouth, I'd be angry at the world too.

This little motherfucker had been guilty of spewing his venomous bile to one and all no matter who was his employer. He was used as a selling point much in the same way that people wanted to know what kind of scandalous shit Howard Stern would do. On top of that, Robert Novak outed Valerie Plame, a deep cover CIA operative whose own husband (a US Ambassador!) had no idea what she did. If you call Lindsey Lohan a cokewhore who would felch a drug mule for an eightball, big deal. But if you arrogantly fuck up US foreign policy and disrupt national security, and oh yeah - PUT A CIA OPERATIVE'S LIFE AT RISK, isn't that treason?

Aside from the other bullshit he's pulled like attempting to foster intercine warfare between Sens. Clinton & Obama's campaign offices, he's guilty of hitting an 86-year old pedestrian while the self-described "Prince of Darkness" was driving his black Corvette convertible. A bicyclist who saw this go down chased Novak down and prevented him from zipping away until the cops came.

It would be easy enough to hate this little greasy queef just on those two aspects alone, but he's also gone on record as saying that while in Puerto Rico in 2002, he attended a cockfight, and he relished it tremendously.  He's also gone on record in avid support of dogfights and other forms of animal fighting.




While he relishes in public scorn of him, he is far from being the self-described "Prince of Darkness," and yet if he is precious little more than the annoyance of letting rip a a loud thunderous fart in a museum, it is easy to wish upon him so criminally violent  a fate that it would require a thoroughly sadistic and psychotic surgeon to pull it off.  He has profited greatly from his grossly unethical behavior, and he has shown no remorse for putting national security at risk for the supreme goal of preserving the visibility of his byline.  

He recently revealed that he has a pretty serious brain tumor occupying his head.  My first reaction to this was that the diagnosis was impossible, because that would require that he have a fucking brain to begin with.  I guess this is where we're supposed to feel sympathy for a craven little shit who's dying painfully instead of hoping that someone who not only ran into a pedestrian but fled the scene of a crime get prosecuted.  I wish his last few days were even more painful, and I'd want his wife, his son, and his daughter to watch his withered genitals be removed with a Dremel and force fed to them.