Their response — snapping each other’s thongs

Their response — snapping each other’s thongs — indicated that my allusion was lost on these Paris and

Nicole wannabes. Despite the bimbos‘ ignorance, the Kool-Aid discussion nonetheless reinforces my current read

on political discourse; these days, it seems everyone has drank some toxic brew, causing them to lose their

minds and babble on about Islamofascists or the International Jewish Conspiracy as the Present Danger that must

be obliterated yesterday. All of which is nothing but the old familiar codewords for the converted and

misinformation for marks."

Is it me, or does this long and patently unnecessary introduction make absolutely no sense? What is the point –

I asked myself, as I read it – except to pad and exceedingly short and content-free column? Undeterred, and

desperately hoping he’d somehow tie it all together, I pressed on:

"Which brings me to Michael Moore. [Ed. Note: At last!] I was in high school when Roger and Me came out, and

watched it dutifully, thinking that the movie was interesting despite its viscerally repellent narrator. Later

on, I caught episodes of Moore’s short-lived Fox series TV Nation, but my mind didn’t change about Moore. Even

if I found myself agreeing with something he said, I found myself rejecting him as the messenger. He seemed too

contrived. Yet I was unable to crystallize that criticism into anything more concrete even as Bowling for

Columbine, his flick about gun violence, drove me straight into the arms of the NRA."