For whatever reason, “Retardo Montalban” of Sadly, No! just can’t seem to quit me—as he makes clear by way of frequent invocations in a post about how he’s going to change his internet handle. So that, you know—he can be taken seriously as a thinker.
What I find so amusing about “Retardo” is that he’s a guy who, at various times, has called himself “Penius” and “Ebeneezer Spooge”—along with several other references to the flip side of the joy coin (“hemiSPHINCTER,” eg)—yet still he pretends to be alternately outraged and bemused by my supposedly “obsessive” use of “cock.”
Actually, I don’t find it all that amusing, come to think of it. In fact, there seems to be quite a bit of projection to all this—though the sycophantic gasbubbles that burble up like wet beansquirt through the comments at Sadly, No! would never dare suggest as much, for fear of being ostracized by a community of mostly like-minded internet nerds who, to this day, are trying to avenge themselves on a world that was once so cruel to them (which, sorry, but that tends to happen when you spend study hall time playing Magick and wearing a fucking cape). Because really, who among them wants to go back to those anxious weekend nights hoping the pimple cream will take so that they can just blend in.
Perhaps “Retardo” should perform an “Adlerian analysis” on his own output. Or perhaps somebody here who owns a pair of industrial-grade hipwaders would like to.
Anyway, “Retardo” can change his internet name to whatever he wants. But me, I’ll always think of him as “KleptoBismol”—the name he uses on his MySpace page. Which, too bad he couldn’t have taken that site private before I gained access to screencaps of ol’ “Retardo” trying to pull off his Bucky Covington homage.
And that poetry! Jesus, J*sh/”Retardo”/”Penius”/”Klepto”/”Spooge”—it’s like reading something so dense and jagged that it literally forced a faultline rupture to the id of some seventeen-year old Cure groupie who’d read too many philosophy books he didn’t understand, and who’d just gotten his pinky bent back in rebuke after reaching above his class for Harvest Queen Betty Sue’s breasts during the senior-class hay ride.
Such misogynistic undertones! Such bitterness! Is Amanda Marcotte aware of this, I wonder?—or does she forgive you because you’re on her “side,” politically?
To wit:
My anger was the cattle prod
You didn’t feel
My cock was the demi-god
You didn’t kneel-AND-
rockstar cockstar
limelight whores
belly dancer necromancer
musical scoresI fucked her til her juices ran clear
“eating pussy until the mind runs clearâ€Â
like a cattle brand good sex is to
the mind a permanent searcuntjunkies dickaddicts
just more of humanity to evict
people pick slivers of behaviour
to condemn and proscript*pornicopia
cornicopulate-AND-
In other lives they might
have recieved a blowjob
or Isotoners on this holiday
— or maybe reborn or all or
none
A gift from a Magi
Seems somebody’s got himself a wee bit of a crotchfilet fixation. Like I said, projection.
Christ, for someone who likes to pretend he doesn’t take himself too seriously, “Retardo” sure knows how to spread on the literary pretense like it’s so much turned apple butter.
I’m curious: how many more times, do you think, will “Retardo” (or one of his toadies) link to his “expose” of my “character”—the one in which he details my strange fascination with the cock? Or is it safe to say he’s hit his artistic highpoint, and that the rest of his days will be spent reliving those frantic, breathless few weeks where he culled and edited, pasted and consulted his Psych 101 books—only to come up with one of the most transparent hit pieces disguised as analysis ever to hit the web?
Personally, I think “Retardo” should write a book about the experience. Maybe Al Franken will clap him on the back and bring him on as an intern. After all, it’s not like those grande decaf lattes are going to fetch themselves. And screw Rathergate, or the fauxtography scandals—any hack can dig up that stuff. But it takes a special determination to pore through years of comments to try to smear someone who you constantly insist is not only an extraordinary idiot (and a talentless hack whose output can’t even match your own verbal doodles), but a marginal or unimportant one, at that. Still, let’s not take anything away from the work he did on his mangy opus. “Retardo” is clearly the internet’s Woodward and Bernstein— all wrapped up into one skinny little package of preening contempt, a pseudo-hip backwoods still-dog who it seems will go to any lengths to prove, rather desperately, that he is not just some poor Arkansas cracker with a library card.
My advice? Just be yourself, “Retardo.” Hell, I like Marshall Tucker as well as the next guy. No need to hide who you are, brother!
EMBRACE YOUR INNER OVER-REACHING HILLBILLY, [INSERT NEW SOBRIQUET HERE]!
HTML MENCKEN
(thanks to Dan Collins for bringing this latest bit of obsession to my attention)
Man, that was like you took a rant laxative. Entertaining, though.
I think it was Bumperstickerist who once posted some of “Retardo’s” poetic output here. If anybody can find the link, I’d appreciate it.
And the wit, so cutting-edge. “Elementropy”. Deep, nearly bottomless.
I’ve been toying with changing mine to the Dog, since the current owner won’t need it for a couple of years if his legal situation doesn’t change. Also it comes with it’s own theme song.
That or nasty mclongdong. Either one.
He thinks his handle is the problem?
He thinks changing his blogonym is going to make people take him seriously?
Lordy, lordy. Is there a dictionary entry under “unclear on the concept” where his picture can go?
In an earlier age, he’d have had a Molly Hatchet T-shirt.
I’m not sure, but I think that’s the guy whose civics textbook I would steal and then beat him over the head with until he wet himself.
This happened about 4 times a week, but still, it was a long time ago, so I’m a little fuzzy on the details.
I’d hate to think that had anything to do with his becoming a filthy communist.
More like his “blew” period.
Is it just me, or does Sploogy really not understand the concept of “entropy”?
Freakin’ lib arts majors.
Wow & I thought only his political ideology was stuck thirty in the past…
He looks like the hippy from one of the best Simpson’s episode “Homer the Vigilante.”
Radiant cool, Crazy nightmares
Zen New Jersey nowhere
How now brown bureaucrat?”
Sorry should read “30 years in the past”
Het Retard, Joe Dirt called & he wants his sweeeet image back
Only one word flashed through my weasel skull upon seeing that picture.
EMO!!
I wonder if you can put Nair in a supersoaker…
Makes me wonder if he’s straight(16).
This ought to bring them out of the woodwork again. I’m putting on my hip waders to prepare.
I think it’s great how he mentions you in his post Jeff, but when you respond then YOU are the stalker. A gifted thinker that one.
Bring them out again? Hell, I imagine there were tense times around the Sadly, No! bunker while I was gone.
We all need our boogeyman, right? For us bloodthirsty neocons its the silly construct of “radical islamists” who are merely a phantasm constructed to keep the country in fear.
Whereas for the Sadly, No! folks it is true evil: a blogger who spits on “Retardo’s” labors of love, the ridiculous posts he continues to write about me.
Yeah, I’m the stalker. He and Dr Souse should get together and share a lawyer when they come after me.
Retardo’s poetry is here.
Found it here.
This ought to bring them out of the woodwork again. I’m putting on my hip waders to prepare.
Posted by cranky-d | permalink
on 01/24 at 01:53 PM
Hush … you’ll give away the plan.
He can’t help it that he loves you, Jeff. The heart wants what the heart wants. Who are you to judge? Who are we all to judge?
Even if the love that dare not speak its name can’t shut the fuck up once in a while, is it not genuine? Does the sheep of his heart not bleat when the ram of love mounts its quarry?
I feel a Klepto-Bismol-inspired poem coming on …
Guilty as charged.
Scroll down – it’s in the comments
There certainly was a marked increase when you started posting big pieces again, but I remember times when the infestation was much worse. Or perhaps my aging memory is failing.
In their own weird way, they’re very glad to have you back.
Thank youThank youThank youThank youThank you…
for that image.
Ohhh, I feel some photoshop goodness welling up inside…
Thanks John and BumperStickerist.
I’m saving those to a separate document in case the artist gets to feeling a bit self-conscious about his work.
btw – Thom schooled me but good in his comment.
but good.
Hey Goldstein!
Playing Magick during lunch doesn’t make a guy a loser. I mean…hypothetically playing Magick during lunch. Yeah, that’s it.
Oh, nevermind.
A couple days ago during the Goldstein lovefest thread, I made a point that some folks may be taking the blogosphere, and the internet in general, a bit too seriously.
Little did I know that I would soon be able to match a face to the point I was making.
Vinyl
I’m slouching
down low
in sticky vinyl
a droopy cigarette hangs
down low
from my mouth
like James Dean
as he hung his head
down low
and out
the window of a Mercury
and this highway hugs
down low
to the earth
like a a pale gray pummeled drummer
grooved
down low
in a sloppy beat
Actually, the picture makes sense.
I expect folks with his level of BDS to look like… him. Call it stereotyping but I think he’d blend in fine with a group of anarchists tossing parking meters through a San Francisco Armed Forces recruiting office.
Brilliant Jeff!!
Now that is why I come here. My mind is spinning…Those guys seem to obsess a little don’t they?
Saved by the downy patch!
Her thighs
I’d kiss
to prep my palatte
for the main course
I’d eat
until I was soaked
and my tongue was numbed
and my mind was blank
cunnilingus as
transcendental meditation
my mantra
was never a concrete word
no linguistics
could articulate the
Gaia Twin Counterpart
Mother Daughter
Goddess Whore
WIFE
concept
Nothing
–until, gush
Thighs whet
and wet is the feast
This is the communion
of Femininity—The only Christ who ever had a chance
of saving me
God the comments are even funnier than the poetry in a response about his poetry, aptly entitled “Too Funny” Mr. Retardo begins to explainhis “collage”…
Actually, that pic looks to me like he imagines himself as the “pretty” Tom Petty.
Cracked…it’s got that “get it?” ring to it. Genius.
I grew a beard that bad, once. It’s why I shave every day or three. On the upside, it tends to decrease the odds that he’ll reproduce.
Feh! Kids and your “Magic the Gathering”! When I was a teenager, all we had was Advanced Dungeons and Dragons. And we LIKED IT!
“writing in nebulaic fashion allows the reader a personal interpretation, something bluntness combats.”
Man. Put on your pith helmets, boys. It’s time to mine for comedy gold!
Jeff we may have not only found the reason behind his fixation of you, but have definitely ascertained a clear pattern regarding the methods of his “expose.â€Â
THAT guy, dig rockabilly and Moon Pies? Sheeit. Rockabilly is too male-aggro, boozed up, and brawl-ready, and Moon Pies are just FULL of animal fats and other unwholesome, non-vegan chemicals.
No way, man. No way.
Maybe if you didn’t dress so provocatively, Jeff, you wouldn’t keep getting blog-lested.
So those little refrigerator magnets with the words on them were the height of poetic excellence, but only if you leave them in the box?
C’mon, you owned some didn’t you?
Doesn’t he mean nebulous?
I never considered ‘nebulous’ to be a complement, but what do I know–I’m an engineer….
TW: No! No! Leave the plastic on! See the words in there? It’s deep85 and nebulaic…
Compl-i-ment! Gotta spell good if yer gonna bust on literary types…
Forget it I am never going to get any work done now. Here is a final quote, from Mr. Retardo about his poetry & alluding to the purpose of his writing altogether.
I am beginning to detect the faint residue of a pre-9/11 “trutherâ€Â! I can’t decide what would be more embarassing writing this drivel, publishing it on the Internet or having someone else know that I wrote it.
I FORGOT TO ADD PROTEIN WISDOM TO MY BLOGROLL!!!!!!!
If he’s looking for a name change, ROCKSTAR COCKSTAR seems like it might do…
His words, not mine.
Retardo as Internet Warrior
http://www.despair.com – DIY Poster Generator
–
BS —
Where does Thom school you?
Oh, dear God, that’s funny.
Thanks, Jeff. I needed that.
In the comments immediately after I post Retardo’s prose.
Thom takes me to task for not agreeing with his assertions regarding l’affair Catch.Com.
btw – I was aiming for irony with my ‘but good’ comment, but may have missed and hit sardony instead.
.
It just doesn’t get any better than that.
Man, BumperStickerist, Thom’s being so full of himself sure kept that thread going a while. It took more than 45 minutes to re-read that whole thread.
Apparently Thommy Boy was a bit of a masochist and liked getting kicked around.
Here’s the De-motivational poster that sums up Retardo-Bismal’s existence for me.
“It’s ‘Bismol’, you dumbshit stalker.”
Hey, guys. What did I miss?
Who’s the weird-looking dude?
How come all the fun happens when I’ve got to teach?
BS —
You note in that earlier thread, in response to Thom, that “I posted the research into the original Goldstein “Cockslapping†meme.” Where did you post that? Do you still have it?
Because I’d like to simply use this post as a quick reference guide for when the next giddy internet newbie posts the Sadly, No! piece here like I’ve never seen it before.
I’ve never known JG to stalk anyone, especially dumbshits.
Jeff, everyone:
I give you…
Retardoman!
Applause, Phinn.
That’s great, marcus!
The Tick would kick his ass.
Oy. I so want to skip a meeting this evening to see how this turns out.
Carin, I have the feeling it might be turning out for a while. Any nomination for the sobriquet (manages to combine SOB and briquet) contest?
Jeff, remind me not to piss you off.
I was just enjoying a nice glass of Talisker when I was struck by the subtlety of this:
I fucked her til her juices ran clear
“eating pussy until the mind runs clearâ€Â
like a cattle brand good sex is to
the mind a permanent sear
cuntjunkies dickaddicts
just more of humanity to evict
people pick slivers of behaviour
to condemn and proscript
****
It’s like Beck does Cinemax Late Night.
Thanks, Dan.
Everyone feel free to download it and add your own touches.
I regard the writing of abysmally shitty poetry as an unequivocable sign of immaturity. The last time I fel the need to write poetry I was no older than 18.
The downside is that if you want to be a real poet, you have to pass through some dreadful years of demonstrationg that you aren’t just another overgrown teenager.
Posted at Patterico’s on a thread that he put out as an early exhibit in the Gleen Greenwald, Douchebag: gallery
found by googling “cock kevin bumperstickerist”
which is just so stupid that I’m going to go drink heavily awhile.
Retardo reminds me of Peter Tork if he stood too close to a thermonuclear detonation.
Marcus: Genius! We need to put out an action figure (as long as it doesn’t speak.)
Dammit marcus, now I have full throttle out my nose from that damned picture. I bow before your 733t skills with the photoshop.
Dan Collins rats out Retardo Montalban. Heh, good work.
Retardo’s mission in life is to …. well, that’s not very clear. He does have delusions of intelligence and aspires to literary sub-mediocrity, and falls short. Retardo likes to throw poop at people.
Retardo is nuked by Jeff Goldstein. Anything for fifteen minutes of fame. Maybe Retardo will morph into Retardo Cockbreath? Who knows with some bongwater bozo like this.
Welcome back, Jeff, I’m still laughing at your treatment of Retardo. I hope you are not becoming a moonbat magnet
As an aside? Remind me not to piss you off.
Jeepers. You are good with the scalpel AND the flail, and with such wit directing the effort that no prisoners are left to take. Bring out the squeegees and the hazmat bags.
Whoa, baby. Fun to watch, tho.
Transmit the message, to the receiver,
hope for an answer some day
I got three passports, a couple of visas,
you don’t even know my real name
High on a hillside, the trucks are loading,
everything’s ready to roll
I sleep in the daytime, I work in the nightime,
I might not ever get home.
Sorry, but that was a bit nebulaic for my tastes, happyfeet.
The “murder them; etc.” is a keeper I think.
I think retardo should go with a name that refects his writing style, like Anal Seepage …anyone?
You and Retardo are two sides of the same coin (and not a shiny new one either). You need each other – embrace, guys!
Great album, happyfeet.
Mark:
Too late.
Also, I guess you could say I ratted him out, but I prefer to think of it as having fingered him. With a cluebat.
He’s ba-ack.
I cut down trees, I skip and jump,
I like to press wild flowers.
I put on women’s clothing,
And hang around in bars.
Mounties: He cuts down trees, he skips and jumps,
He likes to press wild flowers.
He puts on women’s clothing
And hangs around…. In bars???????
I chop down trees, I wear high heels,
Suspendies and a bra.
I wish I’d been a girlie
Just like my dear papa.
Mounties: He cuts down trees, he wears high heels
Suspendies?? and a …. a Bra????
(spoken, raggedly) What’s this? Wants to be a *girlie*? Oh, My!
And I thought you were so rugged! Poofter!
CHORUS
All: He’s a lumberjack, and he’s okaaaaaaayyy…..
I think Anal Dilation works better.
“Sonny’s Blues” is one of my favorite short stories, just behind “Where are you going, where have you been?” and “Perfect Day for a Bananfish”.
There’s always this one:
you heard how the South is said to be graceful
white mansions, live oaks and velvet lawns
the ladies and the gentlemen dress most tasteful
‘course it jest depends into whose hands you was born
they call me white trash ‘cause my hair hangs long
my ragged pants got no buttons on
my teeth are black and my shoulders sag
but I fly – the Confederate flag
I bin told there’s a war that’s about to begin
it’s going’ to get meaner than a Texas high wind
so come on Caleb, you’re a man to join in
when you’re fighting Yankees – a redneck’s a man’s best friend
(SLIDE GUITAR SOLO)
well, I drink lots of corn and I know where to find my sugar
but I guess I’ll volunteer for the war against the blue
‘cause there ain’t nothing down here to do that’s much better
I’ll break some blue belly bones before this thing is through
they call me white trash but I’m a fighting man
I’ll sure do the best I can
I may be bad and have a foul mouth
but I’m ready – to defend the South
(spoken)
I’ll show ‘em what white trash is
come and get it
come on and get it
I said come and get yours
come on
come and get yours now
I believe this White Mansions album song goes through John Kery and Charlie Rangel’s heads every time they see a Marine.
Note to self: Do not make an enemy of Mr. Goldstein.
Tardo seems to have the typical delusions of grandeur. “I attacked their leader, so they’ll KILL ME! OH NOES!”
The wisest piece of poetry I’ve ever read was on a Mac’s Steak in the Rough in Albuquerque, NM:
CHIX QUESADILLA
OR
BROWNIE DELIGHT
YOUR CHOICE
99c
Indeed….
Yeah, there’s not a wasted word or a false note in “Sonny’s Blues,” which is technically impossible in a piece of that size. So, if you’ve read it, you’ve read the impossible. I admire Bananafish, too.
Hey Jeff, just for the record, have you slapped anyone in the face with your cock lately (apart from the missus of course)?
P.S. Apparently Andy Sullivan has been looking for you. Something about wanting a bit more colour in his cheeks.
World’s Oldest Person Dies at Age 115
I’m telling ya!
T_C:
Have you stopped beating your wife, yet?
Jeff –
Why do I get the feeling that this “Retardo” is pissing you off?
Fuck him. He can make fun of you, but I get upset when he makes fun of me. You are the best thing on the “Net”, and “Pantload” is just extremely jealous, and second rate.
We can all disagree, but why do these idiots want to flay the skin off of people who disagree with them?
I mean, could you imagine having sex with Nancy Pelosi? YUCK! I certainly can’t. and now I have to clean up the vomit on my knees…
The “Despair” posters are nice. marcus’s Photoshop is nicer.
Rockabilly? I don’t think so. I’m seeing more, hmmm, RenFaire and “folk” music.
But that’s just me.
I’m enjoying the hell out of the thread that BS posted. The beatdown Thom endured on that thread was epic.
Wow.
T_C, representing the tolerant left, crams so much homophobia into a two line comment that, left to its own devices, the thing would surely spring off the page and tack Matthew Sheppard to a fence post by its own self!
Congrats, T_C! Go back to Sadly, No! and tell them you made reference to cockslapping! You will be hailed a conquering hero!
Not that I predicted any such thing would happen. In this very thread.
OK, people, a couple of ground rules:
1. No making fun of Molly Hatchet, whose late lead singer Danny Joe Brown could yell “Hell YEAH!!!” better than anyone in history.
2. Ditto bashing we liberal arts grads. We did not all turn out thinking we were Lord Byron crossed with Greg Allman. (Now there’s an image.)
Having said that: Jeff, you see, it’s not only we loyalists who need you around–it’s also our dark side counterparts. Or perhaps that’s just silly side counterparts. Otherwise, poor Retardo and his lame attempts to appear artsy to the chicks would have–all together now: “NOWHERE ELSE TO GO!!!”
I am conflicted.
Are we all really as stoopid as the lefties say we are?
My vote is NO!
Not that it actually means anything.
How could I possibly be that stupid when i graduated high school in 1966? That was before the “lick my butt” people took over the education system. No matter how stupid I am, I can’t hold a candle to anyone who has been educated after 1970.
Thank you, God. Or whoever (or whatever) you are…
Once again – not my best day…
FREEBIRD!
Please don’t make fun of Peter Tork. He was the only good Monkey…
I just can’t flare my nostrils like that when I photograph myself, because I start laughing.
That’s Monkee.
Thanks, Jeff. Now I have to cue it up. When someone yells “Freebird!” I am compelled, Cartman-like, to finish the song. I hate you.
Repo Man was pretty good.
I think I have that graphic novel.
Repo Man, that is. Not I Can’t Seem to Stop Obsessing Over Jeff Goldstein and His Meat of Thunder—now available at Cafe Press.
Yes, but I get that on a coffee mug or is it limited to just the baby doll t?
A mug with Retardo’s picture and that slogan. That’s what the world needs.
I prefer Banana Daiquiris.