What kind of a Sunday is it when a man wakes up unfocused and disgruntled? No, not because it’s Sunday, but because it precedes Monday. Wallowing in a sea of sheets, and then sooner-than-later there is that lovely click. There’s a deep, dense cloud-layer spreading out from the mesolimbic corridor of the brain heading off toward the farther reaches of the frontal and temporal areas, firing off neurotransmissions of dopamine down the narrow corridors of gray matter that happily lap up the stuff. The stuff that demands a body’s attention. Feed me. Let me in on some…euphoria. Happy Sunday-Funday indeed, it’s ‘the day off.’
So, hey, let’s talk about something we all tend to avoid. It is a taboo subject; hidden, and unmentionable, mainly because nobody recognizes it for what it is. What’s that you say, “What the hell is FS talking about?” How the fuck should I know what you want to hear? I am talking about the conceit of mankind and, reduced to its simplest nut, the piece I like to believe is ‘the kernel of truth’ about it.
Basically, I refer to the concept of ‘arrogance’ which, according to the Oxford dictionary is the quality of a person to reveal an exaggerated sense of his own importance or abilities. We’ll leave S-I-C on the sidelines for this one; he’s way too overstated an example for where this harangue is headed, and we need only look at lesser politicians/celebs/consultants/wannabees who have tacked crookedly as they sail misguidedly around the larger bodies that make up the intriguing constellations of our wretched political universe. OK, I am talking about two men in particular. One guy’s very name defines the body part with which he is morbidly fascinated, and the other is a more recent tool who has now been marked for marching to the same drummer.
Anthony ‘the wiener’ LNU. Say what? This guy’s surname is not unknown? It is Weiner? Wow, live and learn. That’s why boys and girls, I cannot emphasize the importance of consuming your RDA of Thiamin. Who knew a guy named ‘Weiner’ was actually a successful politician who won his Congressional District seat 9 times; that he was married to an attractive political star in her own right, actually co-starred in Sharknado 3, has a child, and would rise to a level of arrogance which was founded on his having sent dick-pics to many adoring fans, including an underage girl? Not I. Not FS. So, you sit in US Congress for over a decade, never having received less than 59% of your District’s vote and you seemingly have it made, but, hey you’re a Weiner and it is decreed you cannot keep your wiener in your goddamed pants. And, let’s enhance the definition and take a selfie of that monster and send it out to children. Scree… career, wife, liberty gone in a flash, because arrogance, as we know, is a potentiator, an ignitor.
And, if that is not arrogance personified we turn to Eric Bolling, representing any number of self-righteous douche-bags that took a mark as easy as Weiner, and through their craft, drove the bandwagon of vilification. Who, you ask, is Eric Bolling? Now, you’re talking. Eric, eric, eri…if you were told once, you were told 15 times never, never, never rub another man’s rhubarb. How did we come to this Eric? Oh, OK, not talking…yet. I will tell you. Eric Bolling is a neo-con journalisto/politico/consultant/wannabee shmuck who decided to stick it to Weiner. What did this egotistically smug, sonofabitch do? I suppose you can sum it all up with the knowledge that his employer – Fox News – has suspended ‘wiener II’ for…for…oh fuck, I can’t say it; this easy layup with a foul for a spiffy 3-pointer basically states that this longtime defender of S-I-C is getting his ass suspended indefinitely for, well, basically sending pics of his very own wiener to co-workers. That’s right folks, this very same sanctimonious, holier-than-thou, author of The Swamp, himself a husband and father, actually had the balls – er, arrogance – to consistently bash Weiner on the air and in print and go out of his way to denounce his doppelganger as pathological and, as the Huff Post reported him saying, “a sick human being.”
Oh, Anthony…Eric, we hardly knew ye. And, in the closing words of an old Oscar Mayer commercial: ‘coz if I was a [your name here] wiener, everyone would be in love with me.’ Yes, indeed.