Speaking of deadly courtesy……the US blogosphere has it’s own seasoned practitioner in General JC Christian, who with deceptively gentle acidity points out the evidence for wingnut Michael Medved’s (see Martin’s post) undoubted, red-blooded heterosexuality:
Friday, February 23, 2007
Remember, Michael Medved is 110% heterosexual
I’ve learned a couple of things about Mr. Medved since yesterday when I asked you to remind yourselves that he’s as heterosexual as Lindsey Graham. I think it’s important that I address them quickly before people get the wrong idea.First, Seattle Dan tells us he saw Mr. Medved on a mandate with former WA gubernatorial candidate John Carlson at a Seattle movie theater. According to Dan, the manly couple seemed to enjoy the film, Shrek, very much. He also reports that he did not see them holding hands, but he can’t rule it out either.
I don’t see anything wrong with a man bonding with another man by attending a children’s movie about a love affair between an ogre and a princess. It sounds like good, clean, manly, heterosexual fun to me, like watching NASCAR or punching each other in the shoulder. And inasmuch as Dan doesn’t mention any tongue action, I think we have to conclude, notwithstanding any popcorn tricks, that it wasn’t anything more than a harmless little mandate between two very special friends.
Second, on his Thursday show, Sam Seder told a story about an interview he had with Medved when Sam was promoting his book, F.U.B.A.R.. During a break, Medved asked him if his coauthor, Stephen Sherrill, was his “partner.” Seder replied that while he and Sherrill sometimes collaborated, “partner” might not be the right term. Medved responded that he meant “partner” in the sense of being lovers. Seder said, “No, I’m married,” and Medved replied with something like “but, so am I.”
Hmmmm…
Please notice that at no time did Mr. Medved invite Seder’s little soldier to go spelunking in his cave of ecstasy. I think that’s all the evidence we need. Obviously, Mr. Medved is 110% heterosexual.
Labels: Our Man Flanders
It’s tempting to go in with boots and fists flailing and I’m hardly the one to be needlessly civil when dealing with fuckwits. But sometimes the rapier is more effective, and funnier, than the club with nails in it.
