Diary of Fools Nut-Punch of the Week: July 21st-25th, 2008.

By Merton Sussex, Sesquipedalian Narcissist

It's that time again, ladies and fellows. Well, actually, it's well PAST that time once again, but your ol' pal Uncle Merton broke his ankle kicking a cluster of undesirables in their collective vitals, so I had to lay up and recoup for a stretch. I know, I know...If I spent half as much time and effort actually WRITING these things as I do making excuses for why they're absent a week or two, they'd bloody well get done. Are we done, here? Then let's get to this week's...


This Week's deserving contenders:



Steven Page

It's rare that I use this space to virtually punish those who have annoyed me personally (I usually try to nominate people who deserve the groin-trauma by thinking on a more global-impact scale), but this one I'm taking harder than most.

Steven Page is a singer/songwriter/guitarist, and is one of the primary creative forces behind the Canadian pop group Barenaked Ladies. For twenty years, these guys have been crafting catchy but well-written pop music that puts most of the rest of the genre to shame. Their albums are a great mix of bouncy, radio-friendly hits and just-as-good but perhaps more thought-provoking deep cuts that never feel like filler. They put on legendary live shows that are full of pomp and production, with the sort of rampant humor and unchecked improvisation that lets you know that they're having just as much fun as the audience. Even their music videos are entertaining. No matter what, they've been reliably bright, clever, and entertaining. Imagine the quirkiness of They Might Be Giants or Sparks mixed with Beatle-like songcraft and immediate accessibility, and you're close. Geeky, sure, and often maligned by critics, but they've got a devoted fan base who respond to their smarter-than-the-average-bear compositions. Admittedly, I'm a fan.

Still, fan or not, I'm not gonna cut him a lot of slack today. Because it's always a letdown when your heroes disappoint you. Last week, Steven Page and two female companions were arrested in New York state, and charged with cocaine possession.



D'oh.

Police stopped by Page's girlfriend's apartment when they noticed a car door open and unattended acoss the street. They ran the plate, discovered the car belonged to her, and walked over to the address on the registration. The cops knocked on the door, and when they looked in the window to see if someone was coming, they saw Page and his girlfriend throw a towel over something on the table. After getting in, they lifted the towel, and saw both cocaine, and the paraphernalia they were using to snort it. Bus. Ted. After that, they searched Page's car, and found more coke in there.

I know what you're thinking: "So?" Sure, famous musicians get arrested for drugs on a near-constant basis. It hardly even makes the news anymore. We read that Keith Richards, Steven Tyler, Scott Weiland, or last edition's lucky Nut-Punch recipient Amy Winehouse got arrested again, and we yawn. That's called Tuesday. Drugs and musicians go as far back as peanut butter and jelly, but tend to be found together slightly more often.

But Barenaked Ladies have always sort of held themselves to a different standard. For two decades, they've been as squeaky-clean as Jennifer Aniston's bleached-pink little asshole. Even in the MUSIC world, full of drugs, groupies, and all of the depravity that causes kids to pick up guitars hoping they can someday partake in the bacchinalia, these guys have stayed above it. Every one of them is a father. They're Canadian, for chrissakes. I don't know that I could have been more shocked and let down if I'd read that "Weird Al" Yankovic was pinched for running a cock-fighting ring in his basement.

The worst part? They've just released one of the better albums of their career. It's called "Snacktime!" And it's a children's record. It was a deliberate attempt on the part of the band to both give something back to their children, but also to prove to their critics that they weren't getting too old to squeeze out some more of the fun, bubbly goof-pop that defined their early career. Ooh. Timing.

Even so, as good as the record is, and it is good...They've understandably run into a bit of a promotional snag. Hard to pimp an album for kids when one of the best-known members of the band is awaiting trial on charges of narcotics possession. In fact, Barenaked Ladies were forced to cancel an upcoming appearance at the Disney Music Block Party on Long Island in order to spare the Mouse House the awkwardness of having an accused felon singing to children about their numbers and letters.

Barenaked Ladies bassist Jim Creeggan is recently on record as saying he hopes the whole mess "just goes away," but I'm torn. On the one hand, I feel that if you can't pay the fiddler, don't dance. Just because you're rich and/or famous doesn't mean the laws don't apply to you. On the other, he is essential to the continued existence of one of my favorite bands. Not to mention that, even though *I* don't use drugs, I've never really been that uptight if other people want to. That's their choice, so the fairness of the laws has always been a little squidgy to me. Still, they ARE the laws. And fair or not, they're on the books. So, obviously, there's no winning here. Even if he beats the charges, he'll still always be under a cloud. Because, given their disproportionate proclivities and backgrounds, this one drug arrest is equal to about twenty drug arrests for a used-up douchebag like, say, Pete Doherty. It just carries more weight, so it deserves harsher scrutiny. Hey, I don't MAKE the rules, pal.

Oh, and if convicted, he faces up to 5 1/2 years in prison. That's about three albums and two tours worth of lost income for the rest of the band, and just as many the fans will be robbed of. I'd be surprised if either wants to wait.




Jesse Jackson

I'm really not sure how or when Jesse Jackson got appointed the de facto figurehead leader of the entire American black community, but based on his conduct as of late, I think it's probably time for a redress of grievances.

For years, it's been the same story: Anytime the African-American community has gotten handed a large-scale shit sandwich, The Good Reverend is there (more often than not toting along his faithful lapdog Al Sharpton) to wag both finger and tongue at The Man for his conscious or subconscious oppression. If Don Imus calls a group of women's college basketball players "nappy-headed hos", or if Michael "Kramer" Richards calls a couple of hecklers "dirty niggers", Jackson takes it upon himself to be the the emissary that acts on behalf of the entire community to collect the inevitable half-assed apology; the implication being that once their representative is properly sucked up to, the entire group as a whole should apparently consider themselves appropriately placated, and subsequently let it go. Sometimes, the gripe is a legitimate one. Other times, it's just so much lip service and inappropriate playing of the race card. But either way, Jesse has pretty much been there to let all and sundry know that racism is something up with which he and his brothers and sisters will not put.

That is, until recently. Turns out, Jackson may be something of a racist himself.

A bit of background:

Since the dawn of electronic communication, politicians, celebrities, and other prominent public figures have consistently failed to understand a basic rule: If there is a microphone or a camera in your vicinity, assume it is preserving your every move for posterity, and conduct yourself accordingly. Failure to adhere to this basic maxim often results in seriously hilarious things happening, though...So I'm not complaining. Whether it's Ronald Reagan stepping up to the podium to announce the imminent destruction of the Soviet Union, or Dubya leaning over to Tony Blair during the G8 Summit to express his eloquent feelings on the nature of the relationship between Syria and Hezbollah, the result of ignorant media gaffes has largely been fodder for amusement.

Then came this little nugget:



My goodness. I simply cannot imagine what would have happened to any of the rest of us had we publicly expressed an interest in forcibly castrating a sitting Senator and Presidential candidate, but I imagine it involves a little visit from some humorless men in dark suits. Maybe a little waterboarding.

But that's not all. I'm sure you're wondering where the hot, spicy racism part comes in. Well, here ya go:



Granted, this is Faux News talking, so you have to take everything they say with a grain of salt the size of your own head...But in light of everything else, it's really not surprising.

Look, it's pretty apparent to any thinking person that most of Jackson's little outburst was probably borne of intense jealousy. After all...Jackson's the one who marched with Dr. King. He's the one who founded Rainbow/PUSH. He's the one who ran twice himself. Jesse Jackson is ultra-salty at Barack Obama because he still figures HE should have been the first black Democratic Presidential nominee, if not president outright. So, rather than take solace in the fact that he had some hand in helping to kick open a few of the doors that Obama was then able to go through, he'd rather have a little hissy fit that someone else got there first. Rather than just be happy that the civil rights he so valiantly fought for have advanced to the point that we've created a social and political climate where a black man has not only secured the nomination, but will probably also (given the rampant GOP fuckups the last eight years) secure the White House...He'd rather cross his arms and pout that it wasn't HIM. JESUS, what a fucking baby. As it turns out, he was evidently never as interested in helping black people as a whole as he was in helping himself.

The whole ugly scenario leads one to the conclusion that maybe he wouldn't be so eager to lop off Barack Obama's testicles if he'd man up and sprout a pair himself.



Laura Ingraham

Ordinarily, this tight-assed bitch would qualify just on the above picture. She's sitting there looking like nothing so much as your disapproving, stick-up-the-ass High School Guidance Counselor, wearing a Connecticut hairdo and smugly smirking down her sharp, mile-long nose in front of the Fox News logo. That and that alone ought to make any thinking person want to punch her in her stupid neck.

Me? I aim lower.

Laura Ingraham is a conservative talk-radio pundit in the same vein as your Limbaughs and Hannitys. Again, intrinsically reprehensible. She's the permanent fill-in host for Bill O'Reilly when he's too busy loofah-ing to make it to his show. But that's STILL not why she's here this week. She's "written" a handful of books decrying the horrid, horrid effects of liberalism on American culture. And that's not why I'm lining her up for the nut-knock, either.

Ingraham is here largely due to the same reason Jackson is: She neglected to assume the camera was actually rolling.

Much like her bestest buddy Bill O'Reilly (and his massive meltdown on his old show, "Inside Edition"), Ingraham isn't exactly warm and cuddly to those she works with. Video has recently surfaced of her on her defunct Fox News program "Just In" where she's shown berating her staff, openly decrying their incompetence, and generally making an absolute asshole of herself to everyone around her. Highlights include:

A) Completely ignoring her hair and makeup person even as they wield a hot curling iron.
B) Expecting the staff to read her mind about how she prefers her cues.
C) Being told that bending the facts is just "the Fox way of doing things."
D) Being more of a slave to her teleprompter than Ron Burgundy.
E) Bitching about how a "Hispanic-looking man" keeps popping up on said prompter.
F) Threatening to nail a door on the set shut if people don't stop committing the cardinal sin of opening it.
G) Insisting that nobody come in her ear. And no...I'm not making that up.

Don't believe me? Here. Watch it for yourself:



Isn't she DELIGHTFUL? I'm not sure if it's the cold, soulless shark-like eyes, the mannish jaw she could slice cheese with, or the complete and utter disregard for the feelings and well-being of every single other person in her immediate sphere, but in terms of attitude and sex appeal, she's right up there with Ann "The Man" Coulter (and her Adam's Apple) in the contest for right wing Prom Queen. Seriously...Where do the Republicans dig up these hatchet-faced cunts? At least Michelle Malkin has a wet, fuckable little mouth if you turn the sound down. Not that she'd ever shut up long enough for you to be able to properly shove your cock into it.

Ultimately, though...it matters not how off-putting she is to look at. I described Ingraham's show as "defunct" earlier because it's no longer on the air. In fact, the ratings were so laughably abysmal that "Just In" got pulled after only three weeks, after which she was forced to pack herself and her terminal radio face back to the audio-only airwaves. Apparently, there are some things even Fox won't put up with.

And the winner is:



Jesse Fucking Jackson.

Ingraham comes in dead last. Sure, she's an icy bitch who hates herself, her life, and everything around her. But she's a Conservative talk radio host. Being a heartless, detestable gasbag who makes everyone miserable is sort of the job description. And Page comes in a distant second, because regardless of how I feel about being disappointed in him, the rest of the world will just see another musician who got busted for drugs. He tarnished his reputation, sure...

But not as grandly nor as ironically as Jackson, who proved himself to be just as racist as the attitudes he's purported to fight for decades. He hasn't just been hoisted by his own petard, he's been anally impaled by it, and will no doubt be hung out to dry in front of NAACP headquarters. And rightly motherfucking so. Too bad the Good Reverend didn't remember that to people who believe as he does, pride is one of the deadlier of the seven sins. If anyone should pass on buying into the hypocritical bullshit, it's him. He has no right to hold anyone else to a higher standard than he's willing to exemplify himself. In one fell swoop, he's set his cause back twenty years.

I mean, come on. If a guy like Jesse Jackson gets caught on tape referring to an entire group of people who look up to him as "niggers," what the hell hope do the rest of us have? And for THAT, he's gonna get it in the baby-factory.

Saddle up, Jesse, 'cause this is gonna hurt. Not as much as cutting 'em OFF...But hey. I'll take what I can get.