Ironically, uninformed people say mistaken things

That’s obviously (I hope) not an example of irony.

“Ironic” may be the most misunderstood and misapplied adjective in frequent use. It’s a tricky word; ironically, it can be hard to distinguish irony from its diametric opposite. But while it’s understandable and no big deal that the rank and file continually misuses the word “ironic,” one would hope that broadcast journalists in a major metropolitan area would know better, or at least that their producers would.

This morning, one of the Denver news stations ran a story about the wind-induced collapse of a stage at the Indianapolis State Fair that killed four people. The anchorwoman had something very close to this to say: “Ironically, an announcer warned the crowd of severe weather just a minute before the collapse.”

Okay, let’s break this down. Someone points out that the weather is getting nasty, and an element of that nasty weather nastily wrecks something. That’s irony? If so, then so is “Ironically, after spending eight hours in the Florida sun, Maine vacationer Charlene McGillicuddy suffered a terrible sunburn. Now, had the announcer in Indianapolis boasted that the facility had just received the “Safest Set-Up of 2011” from the American Association of Fairground Structures right before the collapse, that would have been ironic. Coincidence is not irony. Unfortunate timing, like last night’s, is not irony. In fact, I’d guess that in four out of every five instances of someone using the word “ironically,” replacing it with “not surprisingly” or “sure enough” would create a far more coherent delivery.

“Trust me — I have first-hand knowledge,” says serial liar

Whenever I develop an unhealthy desire to learn what Idiot America’s latest delusional belief system has bred, I check out Gribbit’s blog, since at all times he reliably has his clubbed and syndactylous fingers on the pulse of the feeble and fluttering heart of right-wing stupidity.

Gribbit’s posts invariably assume one of two forms. He either makes claims based on his skimming of either self-parodic “news” sources such as WorldNet Daily or mainstream articles he doesn’t understand (and often say the opposite of what he thinks they do) or he skips the sources part and flat-out makes shit up. His latest post is an example of the latter. Continue reading ““Trust me — I have first-hand knowledge,” says serial liar”

More right than I realized

Recently I made a note of the exorbitant prevalence of OCD or OCD-like behavior in copy editors, specifically those associated with a company I do a fair amount of “work” for. (It’s a content mill and nothing more, and I’ve become so disenchanted with the whole operation that I no longer write under my real name.) Since I posted that stuff — and possibly because I posted it — things have taken some amusing and spectacular turns for the worse, or better, depending on your taste for schadenfreude. Continue reading “More right than I realized”

The public cocoon

The world’s full of ignorant and constitutively unintelligent people. As the emergence of the Internet has shown, this shambling and insufferable army of halfwits is just as eager to offer opinions as those who can actually read, think, and process information above what I’d refer to as a simian level if I were fucking drunk and feeling less than charitable. Among these hominid-pundits who technically qualify as human beings are Gribbit and Ikester7579 (Andrew Richardson and Isaac Bourne respectively). If I were indeed plastered and inclined to engage in facile ways to upset these assholes, I’d write this post in a manner that would force Google to index additional evidence of the haplessness of Andrew Richardson of Dayton, Ohio (Gribbit) and Isaac Bourne of Jacksonville (Ikester 7579) and link it to their real names.

That dumbasses want to be heard just as much as others do is not at all surprising; in fact, it’s to be expected, and at some level it’s even acceptable. Before the Web, fuckheads who in a sensible world keep their delusions and misapprehensions to themselves had few options for sharing them beyond the walls of their trailers and group homes. They could disseminate their useless ideas was by writing incoherent letters to newspapers, creating illegible newsletters, and meeting in the basement of Cletus’ Snack Shack in Twat Rot, Alabama to trade insights about how to best deal with Negroes, liberals, the godless and other enemies of the trout-faced and toothless. Beyond that? Not much; functional illiterates have a hard time infiltrating higher-visibility venues such as the mainstream media, colleges, and book publishers (all of which are controlled by vindictive, godless Jew-communists anyway). Continue reading “The public cocoon”

The U.S. military needs to score a real victory now

That way the swamp-crickets of America can run around assuring everyone that Obama didn’t engineer it, the troops did, courtesy of the previous president’s legacy of savvy foreign policy.

This is one aspect of rednecks I hadn’t considered until I thought about getting hammered and writing a post like this. It’s no secret that they’re steeped in Jesus juice, extremely fond of the idea of war, staunch Obama haters, and inordinately proud to be part of the same “greatest nation on Earth” that they routinely complain about, keenly unaware that the kielbasa-choked guts protruding from beneath their Dale Earnhardt Jr. T-shirts are not places in which people with viable opinions localize their most aggressive thought processes. Continue reading “The U.S. military needs to score a real victory now”

Analogy is going to demand an assault charge after this one

“Tell them Osama’s dead without proof of a body & they celebrate. Tell them Jesus died & rose without proof of a body & they speculate.”

This was the recent Facebook status of someone a friend of mine has been close to since childhood. That this is a logical Hindenburg is self-evident, but I’ll address it anyway.

My friend is conflicted about her relationships with most the people she’s known the longest, and understandably so. One hand, she grew up flitting at all times on the edges of being a ward of the state thanks to one of those chaotic rural Southern upbringings that seems too stereotypical to be real, a life extracted from a Harry Crews novel. She has few surviving close family members, and her chief allies in life besides her husband are cousins and childhood pals who together from an unofficial united front against progressive politics, exercise, sobriety, and godlessness. It’s more a little hard to take for my friend, who graduated second in her class in a prominent law school, is a dedicated runner, despises most Republicans, and has a Facebook feed that looks like the ass end of an all-you-can-eat tent revival sponsored jointly by NASCAR and Pabst Blue Ribbon. These people have been mainstays in a tumultuous life and she would never turn her back on them, but at times she either has to mentally mute their serial cognitive recklessness or check into the Crazy Inn herself. Continue reading “Analogy is going to demand an assault charge after this one”