Google+
Close
Pia Journal Entry #7;(Lawyers’ Warning: Inappropriate Humor Zone)


Text  


Jonah Goldberg

PIA JOURNAL ENTRY #7
It’s the first day of winter in post-Impeachment America. Have you noticed there are no pigeons anymore? They must have been eaten. Can’t blame people. If I had the last pigeon in the world right now, I’d eat it. I’m so hungry…. Almost got scooped up by the Congressional Army today. General Gingrich has announced a general amnesty, but no one believes him. He just needs more shock troops…. Besides if Colonel DeLay found out I’d kissed a girl outside of wedlock…!

Advertisement
I hear the Maxine Waters cell of the resistance is looking for able-bodied men for an assault. If only we had listened to her! If we had stopped the coup d’etat before it happened then I wouldn’t be here drinking pond water like some sort of Carvillian parasite. I should have listened! I was distracted by the fact she can’t spell coup d’etat, as if that were some sort of excuse. But she’d never take me into her ranks now. Not after I helped bring down our “greatest President.” My mother and I that is. How wrong we were to think America could handle impeachment. Oh, Mother, what did we do?! How naïve we were, how stupid! Well, you paid your debt, Mother. Blumenthal of the Black Robe (nobody dares call him Sid Vicious now, even in Congressional territory) may have been strict with the whip, but merciful in the end… well, the very end. I mean right at the very, very, end.

I hear Jesse the General Ventura is recruiting too in Partisan-Free America, but that’s so far away and it’s so cold, so, very, very, cold…. Gosh, it seems so long ago, that on the first day of winter people would be going to the malls to buy gifts (Malls! What a strange world that was!), writing Christmas cards, eating goose, or turkey, or ham, hhhhhhmmmmm ham. Here pidgey, pidgey, I won’t hurt you pidgey….

The New York Times has a fascinating article today by Monte Williams. It turns out that reporters and editors who cover the rap and hip hop music beat are getting beaten up by “artists” who don’t agree with their coverage. The editor-in-chief of Blaze was stomped in the face and beaten with chairs by four men. Two of the men were rap producers. In the latest Ice Cube video, the “titan” of gangsta rap stalks his prey through a dusty animal range. His prey is a rap journalist. At the end of the video Ice Cube (Cube to his friends) mounts the ink-stained wretch’s head on the wall like a moose.

There is an interesting aspect to the story that is not fully explored. Apparently all of the “retail censorship” that’s going on is black on black. “These guys would never attack a white journalist,” Cheo Hodari Coker, a writer who was assaulted by the Wu-Tang Clan, told the Times. “They’re ignorant but they’re not stupid. They know they would go to jail, straight to jail.” Mr. Coker also explains this is not about white racism, but black refusal to cooperate with the criminal justice system. White reporters would call the cops right away. Blacks who rat out blacks in the rap community are ostracized, even if the beatings are brutal and fatal attacks are threatened.

It seems to me to be an interesting revelation of two competing themes in the black community. On the one hand, the African-American community’s reliance on solving its own problems (fueled in no small part by real and perceived police racism) is understandable, and often laudable. On the other hand, it seems that the encouragement of the idea that violence is a “black thing” is something to be fought a little more forcefully. The rule of law is supposed to work the same way for everybody.

(LAWYERS’ WARNING: INAPPROPRIATE HUMOR ZONE)
And in that spirit, I think we should be more homogenous in our views. Now we all deplore violence. Violence is never the answer; it’s always part of the problem. Increase the Peace! All that stuff…yada yada.

BUT, you have to admit there is some potential here. I mean it’s no secret that “urban” fads and trends eventually seep into middle America. The biggest consumers of rap music are white suburban kids. Already, hipster Alec Baldwin thinks we should stone Henry Hyde and his family to death and Toni Morrison says that Bill Clinton “displays almost every trope of blackness” and that he is our “first black President.” In short, it seems to me, any trend that is ubiquitous in the rap community should be accepted in Bill Clinton’s America.

So, I should be able to open up a can of whup-ass on the various editors and writers who have taken pot shots at my mother or me! Let’s go Greta! You and me, and don’t bring none of your Scientologist goons with you! Even better, does Bob Livingston get to send Larry Flynt down a nice spiral staircase? (Please spare me your concern for this bag-of-filth-on-wheels. If he is “differently-abled” then he will be able to find a different way down the stairs). Sally Quinn versus Hillary Clinton!

Oh, you thought MTV’s claymation Celebrity Death Match was good, just wait til CNN’s Reliable Sources is shot in a steel cage! White House spokespinner Joe Lockhart has announced it is not the President’s place to call off James Carville or his Dorian Gray, Larry Flynt.

Indeed Lockhart called Hustler a “newsmagazine” until the White House press corps nearly gagged up a lung. He retracted, and called Hustler merely a “magazine.” There is so much here that you can be assured of further treatment in future files. But, a cursory review of the hypocrisy is required.

James Carville said on Meet the Press over the summer that he is the President’s man and will do what he tells him. He was talking about who Carville would support for the Democratic nomination, but the precedent was well-elucidated that Carville did his boss’s bidding in things political.

During the summer, Mr. Lockhart’s predecessor, Mike McMcurry (who now doubts whether Clinton is fit for office), said it was out of the President’s power to stop Carville’s craven and disgusting attacks on Ken Starr. Mr. Clinton, apparently, still believes this. Because even though he has, all of his life, deplored the politics of personal destruction, he can’t bring himself to call on the one person HE ACTUALLY HAS INFLUENCE OVER and ask him to stop.

He can make sweeping wholesale statements on national television but he can’t be bothered to work retail when he might be successful. How is it not the President’s place? Explain that to me! It’s okay to be sanctimonious to millions, but inappropriate to make a phone call to an employee and old friend?

Now, as for Larry Flynt, Hollywood and the know-nothing cultural elite made Flynt a hero in the movie The People vs. Larry Flynt. The film tapped into the prevailing notion that sexual depravity is a civil right, even though Hustler is casual about depicting rape and various other things the Left is supposed to stand against. Indeed, the one place the Christian Right and the neo-prude feminists can agree is that Hustler is disgusting. The film — with a small role for none other than James Carville — didn’t have the guts to portray what the real magazine is like. Instead, the movie suggested that Hustler is Playboy with a more risqué sense of humor. Hustler is no Playboy, it ain’t even Jugs. And Larry Flynt ain’t no Hugh Heffner. The President, again, thinks it is inappropriate to disassociate himself from Hustler by condemning what its publisher is doing. So much for a brave stand against sexual McCarthyism. So much for Bill Clinton’s lifelong commitment to denouncing the politics of personal destruction.

NOTE TO READERS
This will be the last Goldberg File this week. The next one will be on Monday, December 28th. Happy Holidays.



Text