Our favorite local liar, Alex from Martini Republic, recently portrayed a post of mine in this way:
At eleven o’clock last night, waiting for a man to die, dimbulb wingnut extraordinaire Patterico gets the lube and Kleenex out:
Luckily, in real life, we’re going to get our happy ending . . . in less than an hour.
Yes, he actually said “happy ending.” And Tbogg thought Malkin was getting overly excited at the prospect of a man’s death.
Here’s my actual post, from last night:
iowahawk has found one of Tookie’s children’s stories:
Once upon a time, down a bright sunny alley behind a magical cottage in a faraway kingdom called Compton, lived a little quacky ducky named Tookie. Tookie was brave and strong and all of the other duckies knew to respect him, because otherwise Tookie and his friend Sammy Sawed-Off would mess you up bad, understand?
It goes on like that. One problem: the story doesn’t have a happy ending. Tookie lives.
Luckily, in real life, we’re going to get our happy ending for once, in less than an hour. (Actually, it’s not really “happy” — but it’s as close as you can get in a situation like this.) And that ending will teach children more about morality than two dozen children’s books from Tookie.
I have bolded one sentence to emphasize what was left out by our lying friend Alex. Yes, I actually said “happy ending.” And I also actually said it wasn’t really happy. Alex doesn’t mention that. Nor does he mention the context of the “happy ending” phrase: a post about the irony of children’s books being authored by an unrepentant murderer who laughed about the gurgling sounds one of his victims made.
Of course, honesty has never been Alex’s strong suit, and a dishonest post by Alex is as unremarkable as a sunny day in southern California. What is remarkable about Alex’s post is his eager association of the concept of an execution with the concept of . . . masturbation. It makes you wonder what’s going on in that head of his. Note to Alex: I don’t want to know. Really.
Then you have his moron twin Joseph, who has attempted to make a name for himself by hurling off-the-wall and completely baseless accusations of racism at Kevin Roderick. Joseph continues the trend in a comment to Alex’s post, suggesting that my post criticizing a murderer is somehow racist. Defense attorneys, this genius suggests, could have me removed from any case involving a black defendant. All they have to do is print out my post — which is, recall, critical of a murderer, and says not one word about the murderer’s race — and give it to the judge.
A little fixated on race, are we, Joseph? What’s going on here? Some kind of overcompensation?
If I criticize a murderer, Joseph, I am criticizing a murderer. If you hear “black man” instead of “murderer,” that’s your problem, not mine. As I told another misguided commenter today, I don’t like murderers. The fact that you equate that with not liking black people says more about you than it does about me.
The psychologists would have a field day with these two and the word association book:
Psychologist: Um, yes. [Turns page.] “Murderer.”
Joseph: Black man!
And these guys wonder why nobody really takes them seriously.
UPDATE: Jeralyn Merritt of TalkLeft, who has some honesty issues of her own, joins the party with a comment confirming that yes, I do indeed prosecute felonies. Does Jeralyn support moron Joseph’s scheme to try to “embarrass” me in real life by exposing my — gasp! — distaste for murderers? The placement of her comment on the moron brothers’ site suggests that she does.
I’ll say this for Jeralyn and Joseph, though: at least they have the guts to attach their actual names to their criticisms, however ridiculous they may be. You can’t say the same for Alex.
UPDATE x2: Joseph swings and misses again, trying to prove my “racism” by linking to this post — which, he fails to inform his readers, wasn’t written by me, but rather by guest poster See Dubya. (The post doesn’t prove that See Dubya is a racist, either; Joseph completely missed the point there as well.)
UPDATE x3: A good friend writes to ask why I would even acknowledge these idiots’ existence. They just want a reaction; why am I giving them one? He may have a point.