41 Suckholes

41 hacks (comfort the afflicted, afflict the comfortable) are outraged over questioning the Messiah. They are:

Spencer “Don’t call me Spence” Ackerman, The Washington Independent
Eric “Salty Nuts” Alterman, City University of New York
Dean “Just call me Dino” Baker, The American Prospect Online
Steven “That’s just my penis” Benen, The Carpetbagger Report
Julie “That’s just my vagina” Bergman Sender, Balcony Films
Ari “I’m not bitter, you are” Berman, The Nation
Brian “I’d totally disinter Stalin and blow her” Beutler, The Media Consortium
Michael “Accute not grave, fuckface” Bérubé, Crooked Timber, The Pennsylvania State University
Joel “You don’t censor me, I censor you!” Bleifuss, In These Times
Sam “My questions for Obama would be warm and soft upon his countenance” Boyd, The American Prospect
Lakshmi “Fuck your culture of freedom” Chaudry, In These Times
Joe “But hon, the male-female sex act is preferred by Republicans...” Conason, Journalist and Author
Brad “Grasping my sexual organs with both hands” DeLong, Brad DeLong's Semi-Daily Journal and UC Berkeley
Kevin “When did Kevin become a gay name?” Drum, The Washington Monthly
Henry “When did Henry become a serial killer’s name?” Farrell, Crooked Timber, George Washington University
James “Work the family name like a rented mule” Galbraith, University of Texas at Austin
Todd “The Git” Gitlin, Columbia University, TPM Cafe
Merrill “You don’t fire me, I fire you” Goozner (formerly Chicago Tribune)
Ilan “202-289-5999” Goldenberg, The National Security Network
Robert “The Git signed on? I’m in!” Greenwald, Brave New Films
Christopher “Christopher” Hayes, The Nation
Don “I share your hate” Hazen, Alternet
Michael “That’s no vagina, that’s my stewhole” Kazin, Georgetown University
Ed “I prefer cheese-eating grin” Kilgore, The Democratic Strategist
Richard “I love dick” Kim, The Nation
Ezra “Obama came to me in a dream and said he loves me and I believe him” Klein, The American Prospect
Mark “That’s just my vagina” Kleiman, UCLA/The Reality Based Community
Scott “These are not the children you’re looking for” McLemee, Inside Higher Ed
Ari “Nonpartisan” Melber, The Nation
Rick “” Perlstein, Campaign for America's Future
Katha “Christ, how many Nation hacks signed this?” Pollitt, The Nation
David “If the Earth could sodomize me, I’d let it” Roberts, Grist
Thomas “That’s from the chocolate bar I dropped in my underwear!!!!” Schaller, Columnist, The Baltimore Sun
Mark “Treats in the rec room, kids” Schmitt, The New America Foundation
Adele “I’m tellin’ ya, I’m no Jew!” Stan, The Media Consortium
Jonathan “Love me, Obama, love meeeeeeee” Stein, Mother Jones Magazine
Mark “I call it comedy” Thoma, The Economist's View
Michael “” Tomasky, The Guardian
Cenk “Listen to my show on Air America. Er, never mind.” Uygur, The Young Turks
Tracy “I would have asked Obama his position on impregnating editors” Van Slyke, The Media Consortium
Kai “The myth of individual triumph” Wright, The Root

By the Beard of Bonier

Future investigators may be able to clone another Saddam from the dried DNA in Bonier's facial hair.

MakeWeight.com

An online site of alter egos. Check it out. They’ve earned a spot on the Knuckles links list.

How To Ban Smoking At Home

First ban smoking in the workplace.

When smoking rises away from work, ban smoking in bars and restaurants.

This automatically leads to smoking more at home.

Sometime in the next year, expect a poll-driven headline:

Study: Unexpected Rise of Smoking in Homes

Advocates Call For Extending Ban to Protect ‘The Most Vulnerable’

So get ready. (Either to accept it, to fight it, or just bitch and moan like usual.)

BTW: The above Times Online article refers to pub owners as Publicans. Johnny likes that as a political label and will hereinafter refer to himself as a such.

Air Force Artists

The Society of Illustrators in New York City is exhibiting original works created by members from first-hand experiences on Air Force installations worldwide.

Sept. 6–Sept. 23, 2006
Free Admission

Directions, hours, etc.

Two Americans Kidnapped: Liberals Celebrate

Just don’t question their patriotism.

“Huffington Post started as a hoax.”

Johnny Knuckles Exclusive Report

Two years ago, an idealistic Jenny Trenton accepted an internship at The Onion, self-described as “America’s Finest News Source.”

Young Jenny has the charm and confident manner of an ex-cheerleader and journo-school graduate. “You have to understand,” she said carefully wiping a drop of vodka from her glistening lower lip. “The Onion is all about parody and satire and other comedy. Amusing and funny. And not always ha-ha funny. Sometimes it was some-schmoe-living-with-his-aunt funny.”

“For us interns it was super competitive. We all tried catching the attention of the editors during the story meetings. I worked so hard but the editors just didn’t take any of my ideas.”

A little over a year ago, a discouraged Jenny was at the brink of giving up her dream of becoming a comedic content provider. That’s when she took one last shot at impressing her Onion bosses.

“I had an idea that I though was funny as hell. I'd start a hoax site where I’d write fictitious articles under the name of dim-witted celebrities about the most important issues of our age… or the very least important issues. Brilliant, huh? What could go wrong?”

Using nothing but her pluck and ability to write inanities in the name of others, Jenny started the Huffington Post.

“I named it after this dopey foreigner I caught on a cable talk show.”

Jenny’s plan was simple. “I was going to start it up and then show it off on my iBook during one of the zany roundtable discussions at the Onion. Applause and laughs. Hugs from the editors and drinks afterwards. What could go wrong?”

For young Jenny, just about everything went wrong when The Huffington Post was taken seriously by legions of readers. Soon the celebrities themselves agreed to contribute more articles—at no charge.

“It was still very funny. But since the comedy came from the real life Laurie David, Richard Bradley, and Deepac Chopra, who would credit little ol’ me?”

Multi-millionaire Arianna Huffington (who spoiled the plot to the Sixth Sense in her syndicated column before its DVD release) successfully sued Jenny for control of the site that now generates millions in ad revenues.

Between weak punches to her own leg, Jenny fought valiantly against the tears. This reporter kindly refreshed her glass of premium Polish vodka. As he waited patiently for brave Jenny to collect her thoughts, he carefully studied Jenny’s legs for self-inflicted bruising. Then he studied her tanned thighs and exposed mid-rift for biker-boyfriend bruising. None, thankfully.

“What really hurts,” Jenny continued after the impromptu examination ended, “is that now the Onion editors will never think I could ever write anything funny. Intentionally, I mean”