Do you read Professor Bainbridge? I happened across this elitist asshat while surfing the web instead of working. Let me quote Bainbridge and let’s see if you can figure out why I’ve decided to hate him:

That’s not pop culture. That’s rural Southern culture. Nascar. The opiate of the good ol’ boy masses. Gary Cooper. A great movie, but hardly au courant. George Strait, gawd help us.

Between Clinton and Bush 43 we’ve been ruled by Southerners for the last 4 presidential terms and Barnett wants to foist yet another good ol’ boy on us. Not that there’s anything wrong with Southerners, per se, of course. But maybe it’s time to let a Yankee city boy have a chance?

This is his response to Dean Barnett wondering what a presidential candidate that is well versed in pop culture (cringe). Not that I particularly agree or disagree with Barnett’s premise, or his idea of pop culture. The Barnett quote he uses is this:

Now imagine what a candidate could get done if he achieved fluency in pop culture. Picture a candidate who could effortlessly segue from paying homage to Dale Earnhardt’s #3 to saying how much High Noon has always meant to him. Conjure up a contender who could unashamedly admit that if owning every George Strait record makes him a square, so be it, and then quickly pivot to the many times tears welled in his eyes when sports heroes like Curt Schilling or Willis Reed rose above pain to perform in an almost super-human fashion.

While I am certainly no fan of country music or ASSCAR, it makes me blind with rage when the elitist prof suggests that because these things are southern in origin that makes them less relevant. You know, because UCLA law professors make such great contributions to the world. What is it they give us? More liars lawyers. Great, just what we needed. More left coast, elitist, asshat lawyers.

That notwithstanding, I may have been able to give the pudgy dweeb a break, but this is what made the blood shoot out of my eyesockets:

In fact, as long as we’re on the subject of useless Presidential criteria, here’s some more things I’d like to see in the next President:

* Knows which wine to match with the foie gras-stuffed quail being served at a state dinner
* Won’t wink at the Queen
* Doesn’t hunt, fish, or go with girls who do
* Smokes cigars
* Is sometimes accused of having a metrosexual streak
* Only drinks beer with foods that would score at least 10,000 on the Scoville scale
* Can credibly debate the relative claims of The Matrix, Star Wars, Bladerunner, and Star Trek II to be the greatest science fiction movie of all time
* Can credibly debate the relative claims of The Who and Bruce Springsteen & The E Street Band to be the world’s greatest rock and roll band
* Came from a state that didn’t secede
* Can recite at least one Monty Python skit from memory
* Can credibly debate the relative claims of Blazing Saddles, The Producers, and Young Frankenstein to be Mel Brook’s best movie, while explaining why Spaceballs is a candidate for the worst movie ever
* Has never sat through an entire Woody Allen movie, an entire Nascar race, or an entire Dixie Chicks concert
* Wouldn’t camp out 5 days to get Garth Brooks tickets even if s/he was camping at the time
* Went to Germany on vacation because s/he couldn’t find a highway with high enough speed limits in the US
* Prefers football to basketball to baseball to soccer
* Doesn’t play golf
* Doesn’t bowl
* Has no kids to foist subsequent generations of politicians on us
* Has a spouse with no political ambitions
* Lives with at least one golden retriever

Great, the prof is a wine-snob and a geek, and thinks our next president should be a pretentious douche just like him. We’ll do this his way, with the good ole unordered list:

• knowing what foie-gras isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but bragging that you know what it is and what wine goes with it makes you an asshole.
• I want a president that would not only wink at the queen, but would shun her sexual advances leaving her all hot bothered for the plane ride back. Sheesh, I’d feel sorry for whatever Royal Marine she uses as a boy-toy
• What’s wrong with hunting and fishing? Just because you’re a pussy doesn’t mean the president should be
• You want a president that smokes cigars? I thought pretentious west coast asshats like you were trying to ban smoking for our own good.
• A President with a metrosexual streak? Yeah, another Breck Girl. Great. Whoopee. A president that will blow off getting blown by an intern to watch Gray’s Anatomy.
• There are foods that score less than 10,000 SHU?
• Is it also required that they can name all the Uncanny X-Men, and speak in Klingon? Maybe they should sing a few Weird Al songs on the floor of the UN too. I guess next you’ll want a President that plays Magic: The Nerdening!
• Bruce Springstein is not Rock and Roll, and Elvis Presley is going to come out of the witness protection program to whoop your ass for even suggesting such blasphemy. May the Ghost of Darrell Abbott haunt you in your sleep for eternity, and Ronnie Van Zant’s ghost tea bag you for breakfast lunch and dinner for the rest of your life.
• And you yankee pukes claim the south needs to get over the War for Southern Independence
• Okay, I concede the Monty Python/Dixie Chicks/Woody Allen/ASSCAR/Garth Brooks thing
• Couldn’t find a high enough speed limit? Since when does a President give a flying fuck about speed limits? What? Is Smokey gonna write him a ticket?
• Can’t argue with the football thing either
• You want a president that doesn’t play golf, or bowl? How about we get one that likes to go antiquing, or scrapbooking? I know, maybe we’ll have a president that does Decoupage! Yay!
• Why do you hate The Cheeeeldren™ so?
• By the end of this list, I would have expected you to request a President that was a shut-in with a hundred and fifty cats.

See, slick, it’s pretentious asshats like you that keep the Confederate Battle Flags flying.

I’d settle for a President that isn’t a pretentious snob that looks down his nose at those that aren’t as effeminate as him. Hell, if you had your way, the President of the US would address foreign dignitaries with a laurel and hearty “live long and prosper”.

Not that there’s anything wrong with pretentious, elitist, asshats, per se…

Hey, if you want to read some lawyerly writing, check this out. Thanks KC!

**

Humor-Blogs.com honors the memory of Darrell Abbott and KNOWS that Spaceballs kicked ass!

How dare FIAR ban himself for disagreeing with himself? What, just because he said faggot he’s less of a human being? To be honest, I don’t care for the term faggot, I prefer to use the terms ass-spelunker, or pole-smoker when referring to the heterosexually challenged.

That being said, I respect FIAR’s right to say inflammatory things. How can the debate truly be open and elightening if he shuts his own mouth out of a desire to force class on himself? If he wants to say totally objectionable, and classless things he shouldn’t censor himself out of some misguided attempt to win favor with the “highly-enlightened” and somewhat elitist PC commie contingent.

FIAR has gone too far this time in censoring himself. IF he doesn’t allow himself to continue blogging then he should resign. I am taking this opportunity to distance myself from FIAR’s totalitarian, wanna-be commie, censoring ass. I strongly denounce his “thoughtpolice” policy in this attempt to silence himself. I told you he was a Sanctimonius Son Of A Bitch. Oh, the humanity!!!!

I know some of you may be mad at my good comrade, FIAR, for his new editorial policy. I must say I hold no ill will towards my long-time comrade. I don’t think I have ever agreed with someone as much as I have with my comrade. Comrade FIAR and I almost share a brain, but we don’t agree on everything.

Sure, we both hate hippies. We hate liberals. We hate leftists. We hate Hillary Clinton and Barrack Obama. I even understand where my comrade is coming from. When there is sand, one must draw a line in it. That is the way of things. While some of us “front page” bloggers want to use the whole beach for our amusement, comrade FIAR has decided that he doesn’t want Radioactive Liberty associated with the farthest reaches of the beach. After all, it is dark and scary over there, and who wants to be associated with dark and scary. Well, I do. But I can’t speak for this blog.

I mean, this is FIAR’s hotdog, I’m just the mustard. He’s banging this chicken, I’m just holding the tail. He’s made Radioactive Liberty the blogospheric force it is, and I am thankful to comrade FIAR for allowing me to benefit from it.

Alas, it now appears we’re going in two different directions. Comrade FIAR decided he would go here and no further, and demanded his co-bloggers stand with him. I wasn’t satisfied. I went further, and violated comrade FIAR’s manifesto. Well, now I’m just rambling. Let me end with this thought: I have no idea where this post was going, but Victoria Beckham sure is hot.