I must hate myself.
Some people abuse themselves on a daily basis. It could be something as horrific as self mutilation... an eating disorder... an abusive relationship... spending time as Britney Spears' "manny".
There are all kinds of ways to torture yourself both physically and mentally.
And here I am joining the ranks.
Care to guess how?
Well, in an attempt to have as well-rounded an argument against her very being as possible, I am reading Ann Coulter's How to Talk to a Liberal (If You Must).
Don't worry, I contributed no money to her self-serving cause by buying the book. I checked it out of the library. There is no way that bitch is getting my money. But I will have some fun at her expense.
As much as I wanted my first true experience with Coulter to be her Godless: The Church of Liberalism, that one is on the library's hot-read list because of how new it is. That means there's a wait on it and a max check-out time of a week. This one is a couple years old now, but still new enough that her ideas shouldn't have dated themselves too horribly. Not that they were ever truly relevant.
But I digress.
This book is a collection of the articles she has written for publication in, what she calls, "the rare brave newspapers that carry my column."
Perhaps there's a reason for that.
Anyway, you know how they say the sign of a good read is that an author can capture your attention in the first paragraph? Well, try this one on for size...
Historically, the best way to convert liberals is to have them move out of their parents' home, get a job, and start paying taxes. But if this doesn't work, you might have to actually argue with a liberal. This is not for the faint of heart. It is important to remember that when arguing with liberals, you are always within inches of the "Arab street." Liberals traffic in shouting and demagogy. In a public setting, they will work themselves into a dervish-like trance and start incanting inanities: "Bush lied, kids died!" "Racist!" "Fascist!" "Fire Rumsfeld!" "Halliburton!" Fortunately, the street performers usually punch themselves out eventually and are taken back to their parents' house.
Zimmerman flew, Tyler knew!
Wait, sorry, that last bit was Turk 182! I'm getting my rally cries mixed up.
I digress yet again.
That first paragraph really got me hooked. Not likely in the way that she or her editors intended.
No, I take that back. This is exactly what they hoped for, isn't it?
But I should be okay considering that I'm neither liberal nor conservative. I ride the fence and have beliefs that allow me to visit both sides for a spell. The one thing I do know for sure, though, is that she is a raving fucking lunatic.
Now to keep myself from laughing long enough to finish the book.
Wish me luck... I'm going in!
