I applaud the brethren and wish them well -- swindle, comrades! As for content quality, well, no accounting for taste. If you think a noir parody based on CPAC might give S.J. Perelman a run for his money, get a load:
I was surprised, though, at the differences: Young Republicans dressed in business casual with a hundred variations on the red tie, politicians in suits glad-handing the crowd, older women with Sarah Palin glasses and sweater sets, even a sprinkling of guys dressed in Continental Army attire, their tricorn hats occasionally bumping against long rifle props painted safety orange and pink. The last group looked at home near the faux colonial homes that provided space for shops and restaurants.
At least I wouldn't get copped for my gat today--an M1911 brown-handled beauty. She nestled in my trench coat's inside pocket along with her triplet of .45 ACP cartridges. The folks here understood the world was a dangerous place, and that the police were rarely within reach when you really, really needed them. There was an arsenal fit for a militia here, tucked away in purses and coat pockets and concealed bra holsters. It felt good. But, I reminded myself, at least one of those weapons had been used in the wrong way today.If you're vacillating, the dame in the tale is a popular conservative authoress named Ann, and the caper gives them a chance to say rude things about Michael Moore. Maybe some of the other stuff is better; let me know, life's too short.
UPDATE. Ha ha, commenters: "Farewell, My Homely" and "Forget it, Jake, it's Cheetotown." Thanks also for perusing the Island's other offerings. Big_Bad_Bald_Bastard finds an interesting personal essay -- "Our lives are always the eggs getting broken to make the Leftoid omelette. Why shouldn't they be the ones wondering if they'll get cracked?" -- that's a shoo-in for this year's Arthur Bremer Award.
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