Friday, May 08, 2009


Don't flatter yourself. You haven't "hit a nerve" with your obsessive harping on Dijon mustard.

What you are is a lunatic who's spectacularly wrong at the top of your lungs and who takes nourishment from ridicule. In other words, you're the Fred Phelps of condiments. "GOD HATES SPICY MUSTARD" is what it says on your sign. Or maybe "REAGAN HATES SPICY MUSTARD."

And no, I don't care about your many, many clarifications, in which you say you weren't really mocking Obama for liking spicy mustard, you were mocking the media for covering it up. See, it's called editing, William. Stories that did not include the damning Dijon detail didn't include it because it was correctly assumed that sensible members of the public don't give a damn.

Let me put it another way: You stepped out in public wearing a clown suit. You now think that the vast number of looks you've gotten from passersby demonstrate the superiority of the clown suit as everyday wear, and also prove a sinister conspiracy by an evil liberal cabal to suppress the self-evident fact that circus wear is actually tasteful and appropriate in public.

But hey, be my guest -- keep grabbing your nose-bulb and honking.

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