Al Franken is standing up for the manhood of the Democratic Party. The task falls to him, it seems, since he is one of the last white men remaining in that collection of hypersensitive racists, outdated labor unions, infanticidal feminists and globalist socialists not named Kennedy.
Al Franken is more than a former comedian, he has now devolved into a media parasite worthy of note. His latest best-seller, “Lies and the Lying Liars Who Tell Them,” is in much the same vein as his previous book on Rush Limbaugh, showing him to be a literary mosquito dependent upon sucking blood from the efforts of others.
This is not to say that the book is entirely useless. Mr. Franken does an admirable job of exposing some of the more risible gaffes, exaggerations and, yes, lies of several current media stars. Nevertheless, like an increasing number of Americans, I’ll take the quasi-conservative blowhard O’Reilly over the moribund leftist cadavers at CNN, despite his purple pen. So, too, with regard to Sean Hannity, although his failure to grasp the proper calculation of percentage differences is almost as cringe-inducing as O’Reilly’s fiction.
But Franken’s critiques are, for the most part, irrelevant. It is particularly so with regard to the case of leftist media bias put forth by my favorite columnist, Ann Coulter. Indeed, if Franken were an exterminator, one can easily imagine the scenario proceeding thusly:
House Owner: There’s an animal in the house!
Al Franken: (steps gingerly over massive pile of steaming elephant dung) This, in the corner? That’s not a rat, it’s a dust bunny.
House Owner: Hmmm, I guess you’re right.
Al Franken: (ignoring loud trumpeting from the next room) No rat, no problem. Quod erat demonstrandum!
In this case, the rather significant point that seems to have escaped Mr. Franken is that in order to dismiss Ann Coulter’s claim that the mainstream media is run by lefties, it does not suffice to point out that Miss Coulter was incorrect with regard to the paternal lineage of Newsweek’s Evan Thomas. To prove the media is not run by lefties, it is necessary to demonstrate that the mainstream media does not repeatedly and reliably support the socialist principles expounded by Karl Marx in the “Communist Manifesto.”
Not only is this an impossible task, but it is one Mr. Franken is rather unlikely to undertake since he supports those Marxian principles himself. “National park system – really good Social Security – hottest.” Some of the other avowedly Marxian causes for which he has sympathy include: “A heavy progressive or graduated income tax” (“Lies,” p. 291) and “Abolition of all right of inheritance” (“Lies,” pp. 298-302). Mr. Franken did not explicitly elucidate his enthusiasm for “free education for all children in public schools” (“Lies,” pp. 93-94), but it is implied.
Al Franken is an intelligent man, but his education is obviously neither deep nor wide. This, in addition to his heavy reliance on the 14-man Team Franken and various friendly experts, causes him to consistently fail to see the forest for the trees. He lambastes John Ashcroft for spending $8,000 that could have gone to fighting terrorism without realizing that government fiat money is not a zero-sum game. He points to the era of Clintonian prosperity, demanding to know what, if not Bill Clinton’s budget discipline, could have brought it about, without considering the effects of the Federal Reserve’s concomitant 56.86 percent increase in M3.
It is said there is pain festering below the surface of many a funny man. In Al Franken’s case, there appears to be only seething rage. The Rich Lowry episode in chapter 38 exposes the ugly bully in him, as the genteel National Review editor’s bewildered response when challenged to a fistfight only proves him to be “a tad on the wimpy side” according to Franken, and “a wuss” according to the like-minded spawn of Franken, Joe.
Therefore, Mr. Franken, let me state that I not only believe the Democrats have feminized politics, I believe they have feminized the American male and are responsible for the evolution of the so-called metrosexual as well as the homosexualization of American culture. And I’m calling you out – fight-club rules. Any time, anywhere, although I’m amenable to waiting until you finish your book tour. After all, it’s hard to do a reading with your jaw wired shut.
I’m just kidding about the jaw, of course. Kidding on the square.