Friday, March 14, 2008


Note to people like the repellent, pumpkin-headed Tim Russert and the inanely simple-minded Thomas "Mustache Rides for Flatlanders" Friedman:

If you pull down a six- or seven-figure salary working in a cushy media job, and especially if you spend time in a makeup chair before putting on your gossipy news “show”, you forfeit the right to speak for the “working class”, or anybody who has a real job, ever again. If your made-up face on your catty chat show is beamed down to normal people from far-out satellites, you are basically a Mick Ronson riff away from being Ziggy Stardust, and should probably work on coming to grips with that, rather than imagining that you are somehow the authentic proletariat. You’re a freaky moonage rich person in spaced-out freaky daydreamland, man. Deal with it.

Via The Poor Man who has yet to be substantially wrong.

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