Via Stacy McCain comes news of my mention, along with Jeff, happyfeet and Darleen at Wolly’s blog:
That kerosene piss-off between Protein Wisdom’s Jeff Goldstein and Patterico?
Totally my instigation. Using a series of aliases, pseudonyms, CIA cut-outs, and identity thefts as I moved from cybercafe to cybercafe, leaving an untraceable trail, I fomented a feud between these two whose circle of hostility widened as other bloggers felt compelled to take sides. It was so simple, really. Using one of my alter egos, I would slip into the comments section of Patterico’s blog and talk some smack about Jeff Goldstein, then tiptoe into the comments section of Goldstein’s Protein Wisdom and go, “I can’t believe the annamosity [deliberate* misspelled to make my online voice sound more ‘authentic’] against Jeff over at Patterico’s pizza joint that he’s like totally letting his lackies [ditto, see above] get away with.”
At which point Dan Collins, Darleen, happyfeet, and the rest of the Protein Wisdom’s fife and drums corps would pile into Patterico’s comments sections and raise their usual stockyard stink, defending Jeff and accusing the pharisees of not appreciating “intentionalism” in all its rich bouquet. Back and forth it would go, with me chipping in little incitements to escalate the skirmishing, then sliding to the exits to stir up merde between Robert Stacy McCain and Rick Moran. So far this latter dispute has maintained a civilized tone, but I intend to draw a third party into it that will lead to a fissured rupture or a ruptured fissure in the right blogosphere, I haven’t decided yet which.
See, but the double-secret ventriloquist shtick was invented, I believe, and exploited gloriously and hilariously by a certain Brian O’Nolan, aka Flann O’Brien and Myles na gCopaleen in the Cruiskeen Lawn column of The Irish Times. Let’s just say that Myles (for that is the name under which he wrote most of the newspaper stuff) doesn’t suffer by the comparison.
I didn’t spend much time defending Jeff over at Pat’s unless people were outright lying about what he’d written, and happyfeet was conciliatory, but let’s leave that aside, because honestly I don’t care–when it’s a matter of providing a pretext for the sort of brilliant fabulist that they employ over at Vanity Fair. Whomever that may be.
Stereoscopic vision is a wonderful evolutionary gift to humankind, but on the upper left of the column you’ll be assailed by the image of Wolly’s roundly cartooned mug balanced atop an angular torso pedestal, in order to suggest, despite the evidence of one’s eyes, that there is an edginess here. All well and good. In the right-hand column, though, you’ll see photographic images of beautiful women, seductively posed. Viewing the page binocularly and holistically thus creates a vertiginous riot of contradictory sensations in the heterosexual male brain, particularly because Wolly says we should keep an eye peeled for him at tea party protests, seeing as we know what he looks like.
I don’t wish to be mean about it, but it’s a little nauseating.
*Yes, yes. It’s a typo. That’s no excuse to be a fatuous prig, when you can focus on the substance or lack thereof.
UPDATE: Wolly seems to think we’re Republicans, or maybe ought to be Republicans. Honestly, I think that’s Rick’s opinion, too. Good old Wolly. Good old TBogg.
What a bunch of dicks. If I were like TBogg, I’d be yammering about how this phenomenon explains Wolly’s writing. But I’m not going to do that. Do you know why? Because I gots class, see?
REUPDATE: Some people think that it’s important to remember, when speaking of Wolly, that he dropped out of Frostburg State before heading to the Big Apple and a literary career, because of the pretentiousness. But once again I have to say that I don’t care, given that such intellectual colossi as the TOTUS and Meghan McCain graduated from Columbia U, and Goat-Boy Geithner went to my alma mater. Did you, perhaps, go to some obscure liberal arts college in the Midwest? Good for you, if you acquired the tools and the impulse to continue your education by your own efforts.
Just what special skills or inside information Wolly brings to the table when he’s permitted to write about politics, I don’t know. Maybe he’s done something worthwhile in this vein. I don’t read the mag, so really I can’t say. But on the other hand, maybe he’s just an attitudinizing pundit wanker who never did do anything resembling investigative journalism. Not that I myself am on the phone with the, how do you say it in Austrian? movers and shakers, before I offer my commentary, but on occasion I can be moved to add something a little more substantive, even if I’m not paid to do.
I’m not saying that it’s earth-shaking, but I hope that by highlighting the efforts of the guys who run the Who Murdered Robert Wone? blog, we can help to find some justice for him and for his widow.
Reading between the lines … Protein Wisdom is Wolcott’s muse.
Why LURK, James?
Fife!
No fife, I just marched in front of the band with a baton.
I’ll bet he drinks daiquiris.
Fife!
Barney, I was thinking.
Ok, stink!
do you twirl
and toss
Those ignorant of the existence of James Wolcott — everyone in the literary world, for instance) — might get a kick out of reading the first page of his novel, Fat Men With Cats.
Certainly takes the sting out of his limp-wristed putdown, doesn’t it?
Amazon.com Sales Rank: #1,537,853 in Books
Which is surprising. I’m positive there are at least 2 million better books currently in print.
But he makes it up in self-esteem, blowhard. One assumes.
This is another lie just like how Charles lied about Bush and the Saudi royal whore what he did not bow to and how Biden lied about Bush and the smack what he did not for real talk and how Baracky Soros lied about everything especially how his budget would represent a net spending cut and how Brenda Morris lied about the Alaska guy what almost sent an innocent man to prison.
I think they lie a lot, these ones. More than is generally appreciated.
And binge-eating one would assume, JHoward.
I don’t believe it. How’d he fine time to do that and still fuck a half-dozen swordfish ?
(fine = annamosity, you see)
By Miller’s Crossing logic, interestingly as it were, akin to Rush Limbaugh’s when it’s convenient, “twist a pig’s ear [and] watch him squeal.”
So now Jeff’s elevated.
Cool.
Just to put Wolcott’s epic failure as a novelist into perspective, Written on the Body, a piece of experimental feminist/lesbian fiction written fifteen years ago, still outranks him by around 1,500,000 books.
Epic. Fail. And it’s still snickered about in New York.
Hi, Wolcott, hope you’re reading this!
hey dan, thanks for the thinspo bb.
also, i’m not in the fife and whatevs, i’m with the fife and whatevs. IYKWIMAITYD…
He’s won bhard if your hope, in any respect, depends upon him.
Duh.
What Wolcott covet’s blows hard, and seek and ye shall find.
12
Just to find out if everyone here was right I went over and activated my 4 year account at LGF and disputed something there about the bowing crap. I was banned in 5 minutes.
Why does Captain Combover fetishize Protein Wisdom, anyway?
Did he comment here at one point and have his ass handed to him?
Me I go days and days without helping advance the dirty socialist agenda. No idea what Charles’ problem is.
If you’ve still got those white boots you could march in front of us and we’d follow you anywhere!
Assclown has outed himself.
don’t be dissing lance armstrong. mr. bicycle is very firm on that matter
Well in his defense I did use profanity in the 2 replies I got in before my banning. It was easy to tell I was going against the popular grain when 3 people immediatly started cussing me out and posting links within 2 seconds to my first profanity free comment. None of them got banned. Ah well I stopped going there anyway cause the comment section resembled an intellectual circle jerk.
I am proudly banned from Patterico. I said I would refrain bringing the subject up, then Patterico himself brought it up again, just as Darleen put up her final Patterico post. I commented that I may be an asshole, but Patterico was a piece of shit for how he treated Darleen…and bang! I was banned.
But it was always Stacey McCain.
ok you brung it up again and for reals there is peace in this here valley and lions what got lambs resting their little lamb heads on assorted lion parts and also it’s Good Friday
there’s weird people on the intertubes. can’t even joke about painty waist bicyclists.
Why talk about all that when we can talk about how Michigan’s Porcupine Mountains Wilderness State Park, a fascinating book, presumably about Michigan’s Porcupine Mountains Wilderness State Park, sits 350,000 slots above James Wolcott’s novel?
To me the main problem is not the bow, it is the lie that he did not bow.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9WlqW6UCeaY
I have no idea if I’m banned from Pat’s place or not. I won’t go there anymore. Pat made it clear that his sense of “honor” is more important than facts and is SO important than sexist, classist remarks are a-ok when leveled against those he imagines have besmirched his “honor.”
Charles just devolved into a puddle of authoritarian goo.
I defy the uninitiated to decode this intramural squabble.
Says Wolly, linking to the My Beef with Jesus post.
Intramural squabble? It was just the regulars sparring with Corky.
Rather stylishly, I might add. Where else can you go from Rick Moran on a cross to dynamiting fish while taking stops at chiseling lapidary pieces, taking herd behavior lectures from wildebeest, Caroline Glick, and savoring irony on toast with some rhubarb chutney.
Wolly only wishes he were this clever. Hence the fixation.
I did not know that Wolcott could type and pet his ocelot at the same time.
I’ve been to “Michigan’s Porcupine Mountains Wilderness State Park,” and it is much more interesting than all of Vanity Fair combined much less Wolcott alone.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GW3L8qon7hg
It was PC before PC.
Or not.
Oh, but Jerry was rascist and fuck nuance.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xcu0aDy_mtY
Wouldn’t surprise me if Wolly’s ass was in your hands right now.
Don’t miss Michael Malone’s A Commenter Bestiary and its accompanying thread. He attempts to catalog all of the Web’s commenter types.
I do have a gripe with one:
Speaking as an inveterate Parser, I can assure Mr. Malone that we very much do understand the dashed-off nature of the Web. It’s that correcting someone’s grammar or spelling—especially in an indignant Parser post—is a form of easy pwnage.
You don’t correct your compadres, just people you want to humiliate.
can i still call it a table
if i’m passed-out under it?
tweets megs
Wouldn’t surprise me if Wolly’s ass was in your hands right now.
I’m sure you’re masturbating to that fantasy as we speak, thor.
Got any hot stock tips for us tonight?
Heh.
Wolly only wishes he were this clever. Hence the fixation.
I think you’ve nailed it, dicentra. As I observed before, working for a jumped-up version of People magazine must be humiliating for a man with his literary pretensions.
You didn’t follow the one’s I gave you, broke dick, or you’d have a car by now.
Snicker.
working[ha]
in any mainstream publication
must be a dogfight..
to be a fly on the wall…
i hope they settle the female firings
with markee post rules
pillow fights and ticklin’
Wolcott doesn’t even realize he’s one of those republicans himself.
Perhaps one day he could turn his great literary mind to determining how many times democracy, or democrat, or democratic appears in the Constitution. Of course in doing so he might actually note that republican really does appear in the Constitution.
You didn’t follow the one’s I gave you, broke dick, or you’d have a car by now.
“One’s” what? (h/t: dicentra).
Yeah, I’m kicking myself for not buying GM right before it cratered.
i’m ‘fraid to kick my
government tires…
shod foot y’all
As I observed before, working for a jumped-up version of People magazine must be humiliating for a man with his literary pretensions.
Eh. For a Frostburg State grad he’s a $350 million Powerball winner already. Ordinarily it takes someone with a Frank Rich pedigree to exude such insularity and to raise furrowed brow meme-whoring to the level of unintended high comedy. I wouldn’t underestimate how vigorously this arriviste treads water just to maintain his modest place.
humiliations got nuttin’ to do with
it-…hey moe…nyuck nyuck nyuck
watch me watch bullwinkle
pull a rabbit outta his hat
u think i’m loco?
it’s easy esse
won’t someone please think of the ocicats!
octicact momma
head in a laundry bin
africa calls
laun-duh- ry
sorry/ sylabble joke
what did the cali fornian say when he was drownin’?
“like…help”
blowhard: get a kick out of reading the first page of his novel, Fat Men With Cats.
Let’s have a look, shall we?
At first I thought it was a human cry
“Damn! That hooker I left trussed up in the closet hasn’t died yet?”
As the elevator stuttered open at my floor,
Stuttered? The elevator stuttered? What, it was playing Mel Tillis rather than the standard Muzak?
I heard a baby wailing behind a neighbor’s door, like a tiny captive.
Because his neighbors run a black-market organ transplant operation using stolen infants as raw material? Because he imagined his neighbor’s wife might have gone through a full-term pregnancy, delivered a demon-seed hellspawn, and confined it in a protective pentagram while he was out of town for the weekend? Tell us more, Wolly!
Then I realized the sound was coming from inside my apartment, growing louder and more plaintive the closer I got.
THE CRIES ARE COMING FROM INSIDE THE APARTMENT! RUN, WOLLY, RUN!
I set my travel bag down on the faded patch of carpet where the welcome mat used to be before it got stolen.
Uh…Wolly… when a patch of carpet is protected by a mat, it’s the surrounding, unprotected area that fades. Them’s some first-rate observational skillz you be havin’ there, hoss.
Bored now.
Honestly, Wolcott looks like he’s 93 so it just shocks me this old fag has nothing better to do than obsess over Jeff Goldstein. Is it that Jeff would never in a hundred years suck Wolly’s cock even if he were gay? Well, one thing is evident, Wolly dearly wishes Jeff would suck it. It’s the only things explains why Wolly has become a one subject wonder. He’s so sickly creepy. He’s like a male Deb F.
how many allman brothers
grankids does it take to
fondle a lightbulb?
Actually, it’s like Wolly is a female Deb F – my bad.
as opposed to his stay-at-home-with-tissue-boxes-on-his-feet bag?
Shit. I’ve always failed to consider that Wolcott might read something I type here. Just in case, this is for you, Jimmy — and I say this as your professional superior (reputationally):
You sound fat.
let’s talk issues
not feet oppressed tissues
no justice/ no feets
i’m orginizing a march around my coffee table
byob [bring your own bob-apple]
The Scott McClellan / Bush fallout? That was me, with a series of impersonated voices on the phone. Didn’t quite work out the way I planned.
Bay of Pigs? Series of forged letters, much fun was had by all.
Archduke Franz Ferdinand? Rumor started in a bar.
Jesus and Judas Iscariot? Not as easy as you might think, and, in retrospect, probably not worth the fallout.
Cain and Abel? You never forget the first time, do you?
HAH —
Oh my, he’s married!! to a person that looks like his twin brother. NO WONDER HE SPENDS ALL HIS TIME READING JEFF!
#56/58, I think you were right the first time … BECAUSE OF THE DRAGUIDITY!!111!
Wait, somebody writes commentary in Vanity Fair? I thought it was all about the half-naked chicks and makeup ads. Guess I’ll have to pay more attention.
vanity fair makes my other mail stink
why oh why
when i try to make ur mail stink
u call the coppas?
“PW’s Fife and Drum Core”?
Really? Is Wolly actually such a flaccid, leftist cartoon as to think we are stung by being called symbols of American patriotism?
I get to carry the Flag, ok guys?
I bet you kick yourself for a lot reasons. And what’s with the pycho-bender you’ve been on since I made the comment that I’d bet a buck that a stock would trade up at the open? Not exactly a recommendation “to buy,” now is it, ya panty-waisted lunatic? You didn’t even take the dollar bet, couldn’t afford that heavy a stake, probably.
You’re a liar. You’re a fraud. You’re a loony.
A big run-up before a three-day weekend, you bet I flattened my positions. That’s what experienced persons do. There’s two positions I didn’t flatten because they’re so insignificant, and funny. Lazy-boy (LZB) and DAN. It’s funnier still because it’s true.
No, I’d rather not read you hopped out your office window without your umbrella and splattered the pigeons ten-stories below with troll splatter upon watching some your stock open to the downside after the opening bell. Wouldn’t want that.
LZB, Lazy-Boy. There you go, homo, the right stock for you to idly watch. If you buy some now you’ll own it at a higher price than I do, and we can’t have that, now can we. I think it’ll trade up from here, eventually. DAN, I don’t know. It’s so volatile and unpredictable. Buy yourself a couple hundred and maybe old DAN will get some TARP money yum-yum and survive the auto industry bailout. I own a paltry round thou, if you care.
I just remembered. Wolcott must be Warren Bonesteel. The man behind every scene, pulling the levers of influence.
To me the main problem is not the bow, it is the lie that he did not bow.
The bow is the problem for me, and it must be for Barackolypse also. Else why would he have Chunky Tweety lie about it.
Gibbs should have said “You’re goddammed right he bowed! He bowed with the bow of hope and change. It was a bow that said, ‘I bow to you oh King, and as I bow America bows and we offer our bow as a sign of our willingness to bow to you. Please accept my bow'”.
You’re a liar. You’re a fraud. You’re a loony.
Talking to yourself again, I see.
Hey, I figured you’d be in Chicago this weekend.
What happened, tough guy? Couldn’t fit it into your busy schedule?
Comment by Spies, Brigands, and Pirates on 4/11 @ 6:17 am #
Please ignore the puling lackwit.
Thank you.
Charles, are we not men?
#69- He doesn’t look like he could pull off the hippy killing, however.
[…] merely sets the record straight about his own participation (or lack thereof) in the Wars Over Intentionalism, and then confuses […]
Oy.
I didn’t look in the QUOTED TEXT from Jimmy for that asterisk! Thanks for solving the mystery.
Meghan McCain did not just graduate from Columbia she received a coveted art history degree from them. Cause of she is the smartest one. You should correct your post because there are many people what think she is a fat whore what is pimping her coward loser daddy’s name. I have tried and tried to help people understand but I need help to get the word out.
Isn’t art history the class you take in college to get an easy A in a GenEd requirement?
It’s exactly that kind of bigotry I’m fighting against, Mr. Pink.
70
Yeah I got a problem with the bow too but nothing pisses me off more than someone lieing to me. I doubt his supporters care he lies but I sure do. Can people on the left just elect one person that won’t lie I would appreciate it.
80
You have your work cut out for you happy.
A lot indefatigable am I, Mr. Pink. Truth is my lodestar and Justice my sole endeavor and though it behoove the dirty socialist cause I will defend to the last Meghan’s principled lack of honour, for it is that lack of honour what is her birthright. Besides her amazingly large ass I mean.
The question of the day.
http://politicaldemotivation.files.wordpress.com/2008/04/meghan_mccain.jpg
Has anyone (here or anywhere) actually read Fat Men with Cats?
From the snippits available on Google Books it appears to be a Wolly Sue sort of thing — there’s a protagonist who’s amazingly similar to Wolcott (has a cat, e.g.), only better (is handsome enough to appear in TV commercials and isn’t losing his hair, e.g. He makes quite a point of mentioning the tenacity of Wolly Sue’s hair, you’ll note).
I also detect the tell-tale stench of thinly-veiled autobiography in the poorly-chosen girlfriend who fails to feed his cat while he’s out of town. She sounds like a typical “progressive” narcissist to me, Wolly. A classic liberal would’ve carried out the duty she’d contracted to perform, even if she’d decided to dump your lame ass afterward.
Not to worry! Under Obama (PBUH) there’ll be government-paid cat-minders to take care these things. And it’ll be FREE! No more will America be ashamed that some of its citizens can’t afford cat care. No more will we be forced to rely on the kindness of strangers, neighbors, or former fuck partners who’ve decided that there are bigger swordfish to be had to perform this vital duty.
I have to admit that I’m curious to see how long it takes before Nicole files a restraining order against Johnny, but not curious enough to buy the book.
Has anyone (here or anywhere) actually read Fat Men with Cats?
From the snippits available on Google Books it appears to be a Wolly Sue sort of thing —
You could say the same of his blog or any of his other scribblings. His entire life, for that matter.
Well just so I do not feel left out I was put in one of this douchebags pieces too.
http://www.vanityfair.com/online/wolcott/2008/08/jeff-goldstein-of-protein-wisdom.html
I assume someone at HarperCollins drew the short straw and was forced to lightly skim it at least once.
I don’t think this review helped much with his target audience:
fwiw, Ace reviewing Wolcott’s book, circa 2008
http://ace.mu.nu/archives/179712.php
good stuff.
Thanks for the reviews, guys.
Okay, here’s a hypothetical that will never be resolved, as no one will actually read either book: Which novel would hurt the most to read, Wolcott’s Fat Men with Cats or Ana Marie Cox’s Dog Days?
*Gasp* Patterico mentioned on PW again?! Jeez Happyfeet, I guess everyone doesn’t know about condoms and keyboards…
Is this the Wolcott we are talking about?
http://www.nsopw.gov/Core/ResultDetails.aspx?index=4&x=DF685585-B1E6-4BE5-B0AD-C08F28C7C1B2
Blowhard: I’ll put that on my research agenda, right after recording the subjective perceptual sequelae of applying an Epilady to the nutsack, using myself as an experimental subject.
Lol, SBP.
I’d rather re-read Wodehouse’s ‘The Cat-Nappers’ than Wolcott’s work.
“Outside of a dog, a book is man’s best friend. Inside of a dog it’s too dark to read.”
— Groucho Marx
I did not know that Wolcott could type and pet his ocelot at the same time.
Will Wolcott’s ocelot be accompanying him on his Tea Party infiltrations? If so, how might it be disguised?
Mike – It will be hidden in Andrew Sullivan’s gerbil-cave.
I vouchsafe we can all sleep easy, now that Wolly is consumed by the blogovendettas. He so wants to play. This, from a man who is the only person to ever confess to having had sex with Boxcar Willie.
Fight the good fight, Danno!
Sigh. I feel like I haven’t really “made it” as a commenter since Wolly never mentioned me. You know what, though? I’m not going to get depressed. I’m just doing to try harder. LIttle engine that could.
Feh. Don’t waste your time reading that drivel. If you’re looking for an entertaining and insightful read, pick up a copy of Ask Papa Jack: Wisdom of the World’s Oldest CEO. Jack Weil was a delightful old gentleman, sharp as a tack when I chatted with him a few months before he died, at the age of 107.
I suspect if he’d run across an ocicat he’d have known what to do with it — make a hat band!
Okay, sorry for pimping a book, but Jack Weil was the real deal. They don’t make ’em like that any more.
“This, from a man who is the only person to ever confess to having had sex with Boxcar Willie.”
Nothing to add. Just wanted to read it again.
[…] x2: Welcome Wolcott readers, both of you. One post perpetrated by Wolly that somehow wasn’t linked, you may find here. Yes, he says that he’s decided not to attend a Tea Party rally on the basis of direct […]