What? Another Re-Run?

Yup, 'fraid so.  From right around this time three years ago, give or take four days or so.  I dunno if Dear Arianna is still flogging hybrids, but I strongly suspect that might be the case.  Anyhoo... I was sufficiently amused/incensed/outraged to pen this...

Pious. No, Excuse Me! I Meant Prius...

I fell asleep last evening as I usually do: watching the Tee Vee. I had never allowed a television in my sleeping quarters, ever, until I moved into El Casa Móvil De Pennington. As a matter of fact, there was an extended period in my life, from around 1973 until 1980, when I didn’t own a Tee Vee at all, let alone have one in the bedroom. But that was then, this is now. Now you know one of my more embarrassing little secrets. And I digress, of course.

The Tee Vee was tuned to C-SPAN2 last evening and I fell asleep watching some nerdy type give a dissertation on the brilliance of General Sherman’s Civil War strategy. A dose of Ambien or Lunesta couldn’t have put me to sleep faster. But there’s a downside to falling asleep with the Tee Vee on: you wake up with the damned thing on, too. And sometimes you wake up —this is especially true when watching C-SPAN2 on the weekends— to raving freakin’ moonbats. And such was the case this morning. A woman by the name of Eve Ensler was going on about the wonderfulness of her life-long journey of self-discovery and the most-important lessons that all the rest of us, especially if we happen to be womyn, should learn from her experience. I immediately changed the channel and set about making the coffee and doing all that other stuff I do upon awakening.

I sat down at my desk as the coffee was brewing and absentmindedly thought “Who is Eve Ensler, anyway? The name sounds familiar…I should know her.” So I googled her. Oh, yeah. That Eve Ensler, she of “Vagina Monologues” fame. Founder of V-Day, and blogger at HuffPo. Suspicions confirmed: Moonbat, First Degree. I followed one of the google links to her HuffPo blog and saw the little pic above. I clicked it, being as how it looked more interesting than Ensler’s ravings. And I laughed, coz here’s what I saw…

First, there’s Arianna herownself, going on about how it’s patriotic to drive a Japanese car, with no sense of irony at all.

Then there’s Nora Ephron and Bill (ptui!) Maher, the former who says she doesn’t really need a car (she lives on Manhattan's Upper West Side, after all) yet she bought one, anyway; and the latter who informs us in only 20 words that driving a Toyota is all about self-preservation.

And finally, Larry David makes the only honest statement on the page, although I’m certain it’s an attempt at humor:

Or a tip o’ the hat to that wonderful South Park episode on the subject: Smug Alert.

At any rate, it’s just all too, too precious, ain’t it? The whole “limousine liberal” meme is pretty tired, and most everything that should have been said on the subject has already been said at least a hundred times. Still and even, it just makes me laugh. If I were in the same financial boat as Arianna or Maher, I’d own one of these:

A rompin’, stompin’ 500-hp M5. Screw a whole bunch of Priuses Piouses.

The last sentence is still true three years on (the link above is dead... but this one works).  We tend to practice what we preach here... or we would, if we had the wherewithal... even though we drive a Japanese car.  No smart-ass remarks, please.  (insert big-ass grin here)