Back in 2004, in the infancy of my own running-centric blogging but more or less at the apex of my overall online rabble-rousing, I was half-jokingly, half-admiringly accused by a friend of being the Rude Pundit, who was himself then part of a new vanguard of uncivil political bloggers. The Rude One was then anonymous, so I suppose it was possible. No matter what my friend — a prominent running author himself at the time — really believed, I was honored by the comparison. I suspect that the Rude Pundit composes his posts in just the same way I used to do my “Bill Eamick” shtick on Letsrun.com: Start by writing a coherent and tactful essay, and then weave in generous amounts of gratuitous profanity and obscene metaphors. Most readers view the result of such a process either a masterful remix or an appalling abandonment of decency. I of course see these as complementary aims, and where appropriate (and often where not), I have done my best to maintain this practice.
Today’s essay by the Rude Pundit takes on a popular idea: If Donald Trump is forced to leave office before his scheduled term ends, a significant fraction of his supernaturally loyal base will rise up in literal rebellion, rampaging about the countryside in an unrestrained show of righteous rage. (The Rude One offers his best gem in his opening sentence with “America’s tallest dipshit, former FBI director James Comey.” Yes, I enjoy life’s simpler pleasures.)
While Trump’s administrative removal from office seems unlikely (the odds that he will suffocate after his flapping jaws misdirect a burger morsel into his trachea appear greater), the notion that his slavish followers would risk anything of real value — be it their very lives or their local moonshine vendor’s Netflix login credentials — to oppose this event is preposterous. Continue reading “I’ll huff and I’ll puff, and then I’ll retire to my bedroom and watch porn”