Steve Sailer wrote July 24, 2005: “Mickey Kaus called Luke the “human Echelon Project, for the prodigious amount of interviewing and transcribing he does of who’s saying what around LA. Luke even interviewed me. But the bonus reason for reading Luke’s blog is so you can then read the libelously hilarious “Luke Ford Fan Blog.”
From the Luke Ford Fan Blog archives:
March 14, 2005:
I’m the sensitive-type, which is something of a mixed blessing. It’s good in that, unlike a lot of men, I have real emotions, including empathy. It’s not so good in that I’m sad a lot of the time. Not sad as in weepy or anything (I haven’t cried since junior high school) — more contemplative melancholia. For example, this afternoon I put on a flannel shirt and drove my Zamboni down to the beach as I listened to Gordon Lightfoot. I’d just read Matt Labash’s column in the Weekly Standard on left-wing Americans who want to emigrate to the Great White Waste of Time, and I wanted to make sure that no Michael Moore-types were trying to illegally sneak into my forward-thinking country. I have a horrible reoccurring vision of Alec Baldwin swimming to Canada and claiming refugee status. If this should ever really happen, I want to be down at the beach to greet him by screaming: “YANKEE GO HOME!”
Well, I didn’t see tubby Alec in his swimming trunks (thank God!), which, along with the blue sky, brilliant sunshine, unseasonably warm weather (low 60s), trees, sand, and waves, made me happy. But as I was communing with Nature, I got to thinking about a story I saw on the BBC news a couple of nights ago. A family out for a walk along a beach on the northeast coast of England was tragically swept out to sea by a freak wave. The mother and her 11 year-old son’s bodies have been found, but the 13 year-old daughter is still missing. (The “boyfriend” survived.) So I started to feel sad: family goes to the beach AND GETS SWEPT OUT TO SEA! Why?
Maybe My Moral Leader knows the answer?
April 1, 2005:
I caught Cathy Seipp on the Dennis Miller Show for the first time last night. She looked lovely in a red top, but I have to admit Cathy is no twenty-nine year old! I was a bit off on that. Sorry. No, she’s obviously about, oh, thirty-two! According to Cecile, the “varsity panel” was well-balanced with a liberal, a conservative and a libertarian, but what struck me was poor Dennis Miller having to defend Terri Schiavo against three pull the tube partisans, one of whom was Nick Gillespie of Playboy, er, Reason Magazine.
I’m surprised that Mr Gillespie is prepared to show his face in public so soon after having been bested by Luke Ford in a meeting of the minds a couple of weeks ago. Should not an embarrassed Mr Gillespie have retreated from public view for a long period of self-examination and repentance?
Apparently not because he was pontificating and sounding all authoritative last night. Unfortunately, I couldn’t follow his argument that the Schiavo case has nothing to do with the “culture of life,” because he kept waving his left hand in front of the camera. This was no nervous tick. Mr Gillespie was showing off to the television audience that he’s available and a libertarian. And we all know what that means.
For one thing, it means that I’m annoyed. I don’t like the idea that there are people out there having way more fun than me. It especially annoys me that these people are smart enough to concoct an entire ideology to justify their swinging lifestyle. Andrew Sullivan is a classic example of someone whose political philosophy is simply an extension of his voracious sexual appetite. At least Mr Sullivan got his comeuppance when his personal ad asking for large black men to play “top” to his “bottom” was plastered all over the Internet.
Okay that’s a bit harsh, but I do want to think that these sexual libertines are struggling with religious guilt. I don’t get that impression from Mr Gillespie. He obviously isn’t living his life in accord with Biblical values, since he can’t grasp “culture of life” arguments against the intentional killing of Terri Schiavo. So where was Luke Ford to set him straight? Why doesn’t Mr Ford get invited onto these shows to lecture the morally confused? It certainly isn’t because Luke is too unattractive for television. He looks a like a rolly polly version of Brad Pitt. Stick him behind a (large) desk and he’d be perfectly presentable.
I recall reading that Wonkette has to post (at least) ten items per day on her blog. Of course, she’s a professional and has her very own research assistant (of the opposite sex) to help, but still that’s impressive. I don’t have ten interesting thoughts in a year, let alone in one day. And if I had a research assistant (of the opposite sex) I’d hardly be spending my time blogging.
I wonder, though, could an amateur such as myself, someone who flunked English 101 in college, a non-writer lacking a research assistant (of the opposite sex) that I could boss around and make lewd comments to, could I possibly post ten items for my stupid blog in one day?
Why yes I think I can! I mean, really, how hard can it be?
Two
Why am I blogging again?
Good question. Okay maybe it’s not such a good question, but it’s about me and I find me interesting. So in my little universe it’s a good enough question.
Answer: a) I want to see if I can post ten items in one day (see above); and b) I’m being harassed by an Internet stalker and I need to blog for self-protection (see below). It’s all very scary, especially for a sensitive person, such as myself, who frightens very easily. Let me explain.
One night a couple of weeks ago, I couldn’t get to sleep. I tossed. I turned. I fantasised about my favourite blogger babes. But no luck. So I decided to grab my, er, laptop and check out Michelle Malkin’s blog – or, more accurately, the new picture of Michelle Malkin on her site. I love Michelle Malkin! She’s sooooooo pretty!
But I still couldn’t get to sleep. Probably because Michelle Malkin refuses to answer my charming emails or reciprocate my love in any way. She’s very strange. Very pretty. But very strange.
If looking at Michelle Malkin’s picture wasn’t going to do the trick, I thought, why not try something completely different? So I decided to check out Steve Sailer’s site. He’s not as pretty as Michelle Malkin, but he’s just as smart, which is really saying something because Michelle Malkin might be the smartest person in the whole wide world!
(Did I tell you that I’m in love with Michelle Malkin! Perhaps if I stop sending 500 emails a day to Michelle Malkin and instead play hard to get, sending only 50, okay, 10, emails a day to Michelle Malkin she’d love me back. That’ll work!)
I usually don’t read Steve Sailer’s site late at night because it upsets me. Mr Sailer is a paleoconservative with some less than cheery ideas about the WOT, immigration, race, etc. I’m not an “invade/invite the world” neocon, like William Krystal, but neither am I a Hobbesian paleocon — they’re so depressingly “realist.” I prefer a form of conservatism that’s rooted in the empirical and practicable but is also inspiring and makes me feel good about humanity, especially Michelle Malkin — she’s sooooooo pretty!
I’m reading Steve Sailer’s site when I see the words “Luke Ford.” My heart sinks. OH GOD, NOT HIM! Not the hovel-dwelling Moral Leader who promises so much and delivers so (very) little! I’d managed to completely forget about that dude, and now he’s metastasising across the Internet attacking one of my favourite sites. DAMN!
After reading Mr Ford’s interview with Mr Sailer on race (actually it wasn’t that bad — at least, Mr Ford didn’t ask completely off-topic questions about anal sex, like he usually does), I started to think about my old fan blog. Was that embarrassing or what? When I started, I was under the impression that Mr Ford was a moral leader for reals. I was going to chronicle and explicate his every aphorism, parable, and trope. I read the Luke Ford Family of Blogsâ�¢ (even the porn one) religiously, thinking that moral enlightenment was just around the corner. So I waited for Mr Ford to write something profound, something life changing. I waited. And I waited. And I waited. Then I waited some more. A year passed and I was still waiting, although at this point I was starting to get really pissed off. I began emailing Mr Ford with suggested topics for his moral elucidation. Maybe, I asked nicely, he could write about vegetarianism, because I was thinking about becoming a vegetarian for ethical reasons. Then I started copying and pasting entire articles from Commentary and First Things, sending them to Mr Ford thinking this might stimulate his massive intellect. He wrote back telling me he no longer has the attention span to read anything over 250 words, and I should knock it off. I kid you not, that’s what he told me!
At this point, I was starting to suspect that Luke Ford was a fraud — and frankly the porn blog thing wasn’t helping. Then I read his autobiography. Good grief!
(See next post.)
Three
Hey, I figured out a fun and easy way to maximise my blog posting output: split a long post into parts. Cool!
So where was I? Oh right, Luke Ford’s autobiography. So Mr Ford sends me a draft of his memoir and asks me to critique it. And critique it I do! I write back suggesting that he can’t finish the book by claiming that he has turned his back on porn blogging and is about to move to Israel to begin his new, morally clean, life, when, obviously, he’s still living in his hovel in Los Angeles and he’s porn blogging again. I mean, come on, dude! I’m an incredibly stupid person, but even I can Google “Luke Ford” and find the porn blog. This just won’t do, I explain all exasperated-like. Mr Ford ignores me. Angry, distraught, confused, I abandon my fan blog.
Then along came Rick Warren and the Assemblies of God Church. It really is true that when one door closes in your life, another (thank you Jesus!) opens up. To be honest, I don’t know where I’d be without my new Pentecostal friends. Sure they speak in tongues and every single one of them is an absolute moron, but at least they’re happy, and they’re humble, and they’re very, very nice — in fact, if anything, they’re too nice.
Although I’m now leading the “purpose driven life,” I still occasionally miss my old infidel friends: Mr Ford, Miss Seipp, and, of course, little Cathy Jr. Sure they’re not very nice people and, alas, they’re all going to hell, but it’s very interesting to read the blogs of a bunch of self-absorbed, narcissistic, arrogant, condescending, conceited know-it-alls. They’re the exact opposite of my Pentecostal friends! I mean, the heathens are smart, and funny, and argumentative (and they don’t play with snakes). Besides, I’m sure they’re not really so opinionated in real life. They’ve probably just created obnoxious personas for their blogs. In real life they’re probably normal, just like Pentecostals.
Or maybe not.
Four
After reading Luke Ford’s interview about race with Steve Sailer, and feeling a little bit nostalgic, I decided to checkout my old LFFB email account. I hardly ever look at it because it’s not my real email address. To my surprise I have thirty-odd emails. Cool! Except they’re all from Luke Ford. Oh. What does he want, I wonder. Apparently, Mr Ford has been emailing me every week over the past four months and I didn’t even know.
At first the emails are pleasant enough. He asks, nicely, when am I going to start writing about him again. Luke Ford — forever the narcissist!
Then the emails become increasingly desperate in tone. He’s soon pleading that I start up my fan blog: “Please write about ME!” Then the emails turn nasty: Susan Estrich-like screeds in all-caps demand that I relaunch my fan blog “OR ELSE!” Now I know how poor Michael Kinsley felt.
I got to thinking: I’m being harassed. This is cyber stalking! Aren’t there laws against this stuff? Why yes there are. And I could have Mr Ford arrested and sent to the LA County jail.
But the more I thought about it, the more I decided that this wasn’t such a good idea. Poor Mr Ford doesn’t have the money to bail himself out of jail. And God knows his best friend, Cathy Seipp, wouldn’t help — not after reading her appalling blog post demanding that Terri Schiavo be starved (i.e., tortured) to death. What would happen to a rolly polly white man like Mr Ford in the LA County jail? I shudder to think. Mr Ford isn’t a fighter. I can’t imagine he’d stand a chance.
I have no choice. I must relaunch my fan blog!
Five
Okay so now what do I write about? I haven’t read any of Mr Ford’s blogs in four months. I could just make stuff up. But that would be wrong. And as a good, um, Pentecostalist (is that right? I don’t even know what we are called) I could never do that. I must do what Jesus would do. I must start reading the Luke Ford Family of Blogs again. Maybe they’ve improved? I mean, they can’t be that bad, right?
I think I’ll start with the Luke Ford Seeks a Wife blog. Back in five minutes …
Six
Hmmm. Not much material there. Mr Ford hasn’t updated in over a month. Maybe he’s given up on ever finding his true love. So sad. And so thoroughly inexplicable.
One of the more recent posts is titled “I Need a Chinese Wife (Mexican Just Won’t Do)” and contains all sorts of tips that I can use to seduce Michelle Malkin. Thanks! I thought my problem was that I was being too aggressive, what with all my emailing, but now I see I haven’t been aggressive enough. You can never be too obnoxious. I think this is Mr Ford’s helpful advice when it comes to women (and everything else).
Then there are the posts from last summer when Mr Ford was contemplating whether it was time “for me to go yellow” and “should I go for some yellow cake?” Apparently, he failed to find a single Asian woman who was willing to allow him to let her date with him. Shocking!
Seven
Okay, enough about Luke Ford. I think I’ll blog about Luke’s best friend, Miss Seipp, specifically her appearance on the Mr KABC radio show on Thursday, March 17th. I was going to live blog the event but it was on awfully late.
In retrospect, it’s probably a good thing I didn’t write about Cathy at the time. Over the past couple of weeks, she’s been taking quite a drubbing from her critics at the unofficial Cathy Seipp fan blog at Onanism Today, and the laddies behind Martini Republic. (I think it’s safe to assume that they’re all homosexuals, although it’s hard to tell with liberal “men.”)
So, what is it about neocon Cathy and the gay left?
I suspect that most of the hostility is rooted in politics. Leftists subscribe to a world view that divides people into two groups: those who believe in “social justice” (i.e., leftists) and those who believe, apparently, in social injustice (i.e., conservatives).
(Actually there is a third, unimportant, group — the masses. The majority of people, according to leftist theory, suffer from “false consciousness” and require an enlightened vanguard to do their thinking for them. This allows leftists to feel morally superior to conservative thinkers and intellectually superior to the rabble. Since leftist, at root, are people who hate themselves, and, through projection, their society, this formulation helps them deal with their feelings of guilt, envy, and rage.)
Conservatives, according to the left, reject “social justice” because they’re selfish. Leftists thus think that it’s acceptable to treat such people with contempt. The wonderful thing about being a leftist is that you can consider yourself to be a good person without actually doing anything about it in practice. All that is required is that you subscribe to the “correct” world view.
Over time, of course, the “correct” position on various matters tends to change. What was once the proper perspective on, say, race has shifted 180 degrees from a belief in colour blindness to one of racial consciousness. And then there was all that socialist theory about nationalising industry and central planning that contemporary “progressives” would like the rest of us to forget.
The point is that leftists don’t define being a good person as requiring treating their political opponents with respect. Why should they? Conservatives are not just wrong: they’re ghouls.
The other part of the hostility directed at Miss Seipp, I suspect, is a manifestation of a particular type of misogyny found amongst gay men. Cathy is a self-confident, strong-willed, and independent woman. This is problematic. Once you remove the element of sexual attraction, men are really only interested in women as mother figures. Heterosexual men are willing to put up with an awful lot from their wives and girlfriends, including going shopping (which we hate) and listening to them talk about their feelings (which we couldn’t care less about), just because of the sexual vibe. Many gay men live in social worlds almost devoid of women. Save for gay men who are especially feminine, and interested in especially feminine women as role models, most gays have little use for women who are not their mothers. It’s significant that much of the abuse directed at Cathy by her gay critics focuses on her alleged failings as a mother to little Cathy, Jr.
Okay, let’s go to the tape. Mr KABC introduces Cathy Seipp as a blogger — a big no no. But Cathy holds her tongue. She sounds so lolitaesque. How old is Cathy? Fourteen? No, that can’t be right. Cathy Jr is fifteen. I’m guessing Cathy Sr is, oh, about twenty-nine.
Cathy begins with a joke about Bubbles the Hippo, “for people who are old enough” to understand the reference. I have no idea who Bubbles the Hippo is — probably a cartoon from the early ’80s when Cathy was growing up. Mr KABC laughs, so I guess it’s a good joke for the twentysomething set.
Cathy reviews the disagreement between Susan Estrich, feminist law professor, and Michael Kinsey, editorial editor at the LA Times, about the relative absence of female op-ed columnists in the Times. It becomes quickly apparent that Miss Seipp is an excellent interview. She doesn’t digress and repeat herself. Nor does she speak in a monotone. Instead, Cathy speaks clearly, concisely, and quickly with just the right amount of emotion.
At the five minute mark, however, sweet Cathy shows another side, saying: “Her [Susan Estrich’s] column is very badly written … not that the LA Times is against running bad articles. [Mr KABC: “hahahaha”] It’s pretty lame.”
Then Miss Seipp makes a snarky comment about how the fifty Hollywood wives (and ex-wives) supporting Ms Estrich are threatening to cancel their newspaper subscriptions unless they get their way. Cathy remarks: “Then they said, ‘we’ll also boycott the advertisers. We buy a lot of Clinique.'” At which point poor Mr KABC almost wets himself he’s laughing so hard. So much for Mr Gay Chronic Masturbators’ claim that men don’t find Cathy Seipp enchanting.
In fact, things are going so well — Mr KABC is laughing at every single one of Miss Seipp’s jokes — that I’m starting to think: late night dinner date and, possibly, freaky sex after the show. Maybe this is just how my mind works, but the two are getting along famously.
Next Mr KABC reads to Cathy a letter from Susan Estrich where the latter says that she didn’t even know that Cathy lives in Los Angeles. OMG! This is going to be gooooood! Poor Susan Estrich, she has no idea who she is dealing with. Let’s face it. What makes Cathy such a good interview — the fact that she isn’t at all nervous: she’s calm and collected — is because of her boundless self-confidence. Although not quite a narcissist to the Luke Ford degree (and, really, how could she be?), it’s obvious that Cathy is annoyed because a) Susan Estrich doesn’t know Cathy lives in Silver Lakes, and b) Mr KABC just called Cathy a blogger again.
What is Mr KABC thinking? Luke Ford is a blogger. Cathy Seipp is an internationally distributed and renown essayist and commentator. (I remember reading one of Miss Seipp’s columns in Canada’s National Post, the newspaper that used to carry the equally fabulous Mark Steyn, before, that is, they messed up, but I digress because I’m not a leading intellectual like Cathy Seipp!) The point is there will be no memorable late night dinner date, etc., for Mr KABC if he keeps making silly mistakes.
It soon becomes obvious that Mr KABC has no idea how to seduce a woman. He mentions Susan Estrich’s demand that she will appear on a KABC radio show but only with a female interviewer. Obviously, she’s an idiot, but so, too, is Mr KABC because he starts whining about how unfair it is that his “male genitalia” (a phrase he uses twice) are preventing him from getting an interview with Prof Estrich.
Never, ever talk about you genitals, let alone your genitalia, to a woman you’ve just met. This is a classic mistake. It’s probably the biggest mistake a man can make. Trust me on this one. It never works. NEVER! Okay maybe it works with porn stars, the kind of women Luke Ford hangs out with, but with a public intellectual like Cathy Seipp? I don’t think so. (Although she is “friends” with Luke Ford … No, she couldn’t possibly be that kind of girl.)
Then Mr KABC (what kind of ridiculous name is “Mr KABC” anyway?) starts screeching “I’m a feminist! I’m speaking as a feminist!” Talk about shooting yourself in the foot. No woman, let alone a conservative woman, wants to date a man who calls himself a feminist. That’s even more self-defeating than referring to your “male genitalia.” Mr KABC really is a twat!
Contra Mr Gay Chronic Masturbator, Miss Seipp doesn’t have a problem seducing men. God knows she was trying very hard with Mr KABC for about ten minutes, until, that is, he started going on (and on) about his naughty bits. No, it’s the men Cathy is dealing with that have the problem. I mean really! What’s up with LA men? Cathy needs to move back to Winnipeg. Or at the very least she should tell the men of Los Angeles to checkout the Luke Ford Seeks a Wife Blog and pick up some tips on how to speak romantically to women. Mr Ford is a pro — I mean that literally (see his autobiography).
At the 11 minute mark Cathy starts — finally — to unload on Mr TWAT for calling her a “blogger” at the beginning of the interview, pointing out that it’s “annoying because, as you know, I have a column in the National Review.”
This is the sort of behaviour that gets Cathy in trouble with her critics. But she has a point, and she only turned on Mr TWAT after he made one boneheaded comment after another. The girl deserves a reward for patience.
Cathy’s increasing frustration starts to show as she criticises Susan Estrich for “blowing smoke out of her ass,” for being “nuts,” for spewing “nonsense,” and not being as good at putting her children to bed as Cathy is with Cathy Jr. But you know Cathy’s also angry at Mr TWAT, because the dude just won’t shut the f#ck up!
Mr Twat asks: “Am I to conclude from you Cathy that you believe that this is really an effort to get Susan Estrich’s column covered in the …” Cathy interrupts: “Oh not necessarily!” Good grief, Mr TWAT, Cathy just said less than one minute earlier in the interview that the point of Susan Estrich’s letter writing campaign was to see more left-wing female columnists in the LA Times, but not necessarily her own column. Are you deaf, Mr TWAT? Or just a very, very stupid man?
Then Mr TWAT said something so idiotic that I was on the floor laughing hysterically for about thirty minutes. For reals! He asks Cathy if the reason that Susan Estrich’s column isn’t in the Times is “because it just isn’t up to the standards of the LA Times?” Cathy responds: “It’s a terribly written column. I’m surprised that it’s still carried by Creators Syndicate. I mean you’ve seen it. It’s that badly written.”
Mr TWAT responds: “Yeah, for someone who is a law professor at USC, I’m sort of surprised at the punctuation.”
Good grief! Mr TWAT has confused Susan Estrich’s unpunctuated email that she sent to the KABC radio station with her syndicated weekly column, which, of course, is punctuated!
Alas, I couldn’t listen to the rest of the interview, what with the “water” damage to my underpants.
Please, Cathy, come back to Canada. You’re twenty-nine, right? Assuming good health, you’ve sixty years left. Don’t waste them living in America surrounded by morons like Mr Gay Chronic Masturbator and Mr TWAT. Become a Pentecostalist and run away with me. Don’t worry about Cathy Jr. She can move into the hovel with Luke Ford. Really, he’s harmless. (I think.)
Update: I’ve just listened to the end of the KABC interview and I missed the best part. After calling Georgetown linguist Deborah Tannen’s recent column on gender differences “idiotic,” “lame,” “extremely stupid,” and “dishonest from beginning to end,” Cathy summarises Prof Tannen’s argument using a little girl voice: “The reason why there aren’t as many female opinion writers is because women have a better way of dealing with things. They don’t like to attack.” You have to listen to the tape. A man would have to be gay not to become lightheaded listening to Cathy pretending to be a schoolgirl. OMG!
I’m sorry, I can’t blog anymore tonight. I have a big problem that I have to take care of — immediately. (And I only got up to seven entries.) Blogging is, um, hard!
April 21, 2005:
Cecile DuBois has an advice blog. You ask her questions, and she solves your problems. Cool! This is just what I need, ‘cuz I got problems and questions. A lot of ’em. But where to begin? Let me think …
Well, for one thing, I’m suffering severe existential angst. It sucks being an atheist at the best of times. With all the excitement over the new Pope (good choice, by the way), I’m feeling especially alone in the meaningless universe of random pointlessness. But that’s not my question. (Debating the existence of God and the meaning of life is a little heavy for a kid.)
Here’s my question: I have a friend (no, not Luke Ford, who I don’t really even like, what with the p— blog thing and all) who started a political blog about nine months ago. It’s really bad. I mean really, really bad. He can’t write. His spelling is atrocious. All he does is copy and paste stuff from elsewhere on the Internet, and then adds his own completely lame-o comments. It’s just awful. And yet he posts five to ten times a day, seven days a week. And every time he updates, he emails me and a dozen or so of his friends to tell us, as if we care. For awhile I stopped getting his emails. Then I checked my spam filter and found that one of his “friends” had blocked his emails, meaning the rest of us Hotmail users were prevented from receiving his updates. It’s pretty bad when even your friends are blocking your emails as spam.
Okay, here’s the thing. Now the guy is all over InstaPundit getting links and everything! Rather than being excited for him, I feel annoyed. And angry. And very, very bitter. I know it’s wrong for me to feel this way, but his blog sucks … a lot. And Glenn Reynolds totally ignores me when I email him asking for links, although I chalk this up to his complete, total, and absolute LOATHING of all things Luke Ford, which I can fully understand (see above comment re: p— blog). But still Mr InstaPundit could at least acknowledge my emails, no? But that’s not my question.
Here is my question (sorry for being so long-winded): My talentless friend’s success has prompted me to wonder: What part of success is due to hard work? What part is the result of natural ability? And what part comes down to luck? I have to know. I think if I know the answer, it will help me become a better person and a better blogger.
I use to think that success was about 80 per cent natural ability, 19 per cent hard work, and 1 per cent luck. I still don’t think luck plays much of a role, but maybe I’ve been underestimating the importance of steely determination and unflagging perseverance? Then again, no amount of hard work is going to get me playing centre for the LA Lakers, right? Or teaching mathematics at MIT. So god-given ability has to play a significant role, no? Oh, I don’t know.
Please help me on the path to success.
Sincerely,
Beleaguered in British Columbia
A week (or so) ago, Cecile DuBois asked me about the Canadian government sponsorship scandal.
Scandal? What scandal?
It’s hard being a faux intellectual. You have to keep up on all sorts of topics, including Canadian politics, which is something I avoid because, well, it’s hopeless. Canada is a one party state ruled by a corrupt (i.e., French) political class with their well-fed Liberal snouts forever in the public trough.
Not knowing the details, I bluffed and said in a knowing tone, “Oh, those Liberals! I hate them. They’re all crooks, liars, and scoundrels!”
Cecile nodded approvingly: “I hate liberals, too! Like Michael Moore! And Howard Dean! And that horrible Rosie O’Donell woman!”
“Yeah,” I said, “those three are awful and they’re not even French! Just imagine what happens when you combine liberalism with the French.”
“Yucky!” Cecile screamed.
Then we laughed.
Later I turned on the television to find out exactly what awful things those Canadian Liberals were up to.
I seldom watch television, because, well, it’s beneath me as a faux intellectual, so imagine my horror when the first thing I saw (I turned on an American channel) was a close-up of Arlen Specter, the dude from the Clarence Thomas Supreme Court nomination hearings. Remember him? Remember how handsome he was back in 1991? No? Well I do! He used to look a lot like Robert Redford, circa 1969. And now? Um, not so much with the handsomeness. I mean, talk about letting yourself go. What happened to his hair? Nowadays Arlen Specter looks like Luke Ford. They could be twins, or something.
(You know, it’s so depressing looking at pictures of people you haven’t seen for awhile. Yesterday, I saw a recent photo of Morrissey, from my favourite ’80s band The Smiths. He’s now living in LA. Pushing fifty. Fat. And gross! Just like … oh hold on, I already have my required on-topic reference in this blog post.)
So, I quickly turned the channel and who should appear? None other than Robert Redford! What are the odds of that?
OMG! What happened to Robert Redford’s face? He used to be so handsome, like Arlen Specter, circa 1991. Now Mr Redford looks scary … very, very scary.
Going up and down the television dial shrieking “Ooh, he’s gross!” wasn’t getting me any closer to learning about the sponsorship scandal, so I decided to go directly to the CBC. I picked the perfect time, too, because the now almost bald, but still fabulous, Peter Mansbridge was hosting a news special on the scandal. (Canadians age much better than Americans — must be something to do with our annual 53 weeks of winter!) It was an “ask the experts” programme featuring ordinary Canadians. Cool! I’m an ordinary Canadian, so this won’t go over my head, I thought. Well, I lasted one question. Some goober asked: “Will anyone be held responsible for stealing millions of dollars from the taxpayers?”
Good grief! This is Canada. The Liberals have ruined the country. They’ve turned Canada, a once proud member of the Anglosphere, into freakin’ Belgium! Liberals don’t believe in individual responsiblity. It’s not the Liberal way. The Liberal way is cheating, stealing, lying and getting away with it. That’s what Liberals do. I mean, come on Mr Goober! It all started with Pierre Trudeau back in 1968. And you still haven’t figured it out? No wonder these things keep happening.
As I understand the latest corruption scandal, the Liberals decided after the very close secession … whoops, I mean, “sovereignty association” referendum in Quebec in 1995, that, in the interest of national unity, the federal government should start sponsoring various cultural and sporting events throughout the province. Advertising firms were hired to promote these events making sure that the word “Canada” was prominently displayed.
Good grief! Do the Liberals really think that Quebec secessionists, whoops, I mean sovereignty associationists, are so stupid that they’ll turned into happy federalists if they see that a documentary on Maurice Richard was sponsored by the federal government?
Well, apparently not because it turns out the whole thing was a scam. The advertising firms involved were connected to the Liberal Party. They were awarded contracts in exchange for donating money to the Liberals — after taking millions of dollars for themselves, of course. For example, one of ex-Prime Minister Jean Chretien’s friends, Jacques Corriveau, made $7 million dollars as a “consultant,” which included, according to one invoice, $35,000 for surfing the Internet. I kid you not!
Liberals. I hate them!
And now I keep reading stories in the local paper about American liberals moving to Canada to get away from George W. Bush. Just when you think things can’t get any worse.
Soon there will be a new federal election. Hopefully, the Conservative Party will win. And Quebec will secede. (Good riddance!) Then, during the economic chaos, all those horrible American liberals will go back home. I can dream.
April 25, 2005:
I spoke with a friend Sunday evening about Luke Ford. Here’s a transcript of our conversation:
Luke Ford Fan Blogger (LFFB): So, Luke Ford phoned me Friday. He was quite agitated.
Luke Ford Fan Blogger’s Friend (LFFBF): Who’s Luke Ford?
LFFB: Oh, some blogger on the Internet.
LFFBF: You mean like Andrew Sullivan?
LFFB: Yeah, he has a lot in common with Andrew Sullivan.
LFFBF: I hate Andrew Sullivan. He’s always PMSing and changing his political positions — throwing hissy fits and carrying on like an emotional wreck.
LFFB: Yeah, I stopped reading Sullivan’s blog after he started handing out the “Michelle Malkin Award” for hysterical, over-the-top political commentary. Like he’s David Brooks or something. The dude’s such a hypocrite.
LFFBF: I don’t know how he can show his face in public after that personal ad scandal a couple of years ago. I guess some people have no shame. Did you see Sullivan’s ad?
LFFB: Yeah, I was mortified — going on about his butt muscles and how big his penis is. And there were nekkid pictures, too!
LFFBF: Ewww! So what was this Luke Ford dude so annoyed about?
LFFB: He was mad at me for mentioning his p— blog on my website. He kept saying “I’ll fix your wagon” over and over.
LFFBF: What’s a p— blog?
LFFB: I don’t really know. I’ve only looked at it once or twice — and then only briefly. I gather he just surfs around the Internet looking at p— message boards. Then he copies and pastes some of the posts onto his blog.
LFFBF: You’re joking?
LFFB: Not at all.
LFFBF: And people read it?
LFFB: Apparently.
LFFBF: Why?
LFFB: I guess they’re bored.
LFFBF: I’ll say. Why don’t they read First Things. All the back issues are online — for free. That’s a much more productive use of one’s time than reading some p— blog.
LFFB: I don’t know. Maybe they’re moral degenerates or something.
LFFBF: Are there pictures?
LFFB: Of Luke Ford?
LFFBF: No, of p— stars?
LFFB: Maybe.
LFFBF: So what was this about “fixing your wagon”?
LFFB: I’m not sure. Perhaps Luke Ford thinks I drive a station wagon and he wants to come over and fix it?
LFFBF: But you said he was agitated?
LFFB: Yes, very much so.
LFFBF: It sounds like he’s threatening you.
LFFB: Really?
LFFBF: Yeah. Perhaps he’s threatening you with bodily harm if you mention his p— blog again?
LFFB: I don’t think so. I know I’m not allowed to mention his p— blog, but I don’t think he would hurt me even if I did mention his p— blog. Besides, I’m not going to mention his p— blog ever again, so I think I’m pretty safe.
LFFBF: How can you be sure?
LFFB: Well in his autobiography …
LFFBF: He has an autobiography?
LFFB: Yep.
LFFBF: I thought you said he was a p— blogger?
LFFB: He is.
LFFBF: I guess p— blogging is bigger than I’d thought.
LFFB: Well, his memoir was self-published.
LFFBF: Good grief! Luke Ford self-published an autobiography about being a p— blogger?
LFFB: Yeah. But it didn’t sell very well.
LFFBF: I can well imagine. Did you buy a copy?
LFFB: No, he gave me one.
LFFBF: And you read it?
LFFB: Not really. I just paged through it — quickly — what with all the stories about Luke Ford “dating” older women. It was kinda creepy.
LFFBF: Older women? You mean Luke Ford dates women in their forties?
LFFB: No, older.
LFFBF: Women in their fifties?
LFFB: No, older.
LFFBF: Women in their sixties?
LFFB: Yeah, and older still.
LFFBF: Luke Ford dates women in their sixties and seventies?
LFFB: He use to.
LFFBF: Why did he stop?
LFFB: I don’t know. Maybe because he got fat.
LFFBF: Why did he get fat?
LFFB: Because of the lithium.
LFFBF: What lithium?
LFFB: The lithium he takes for his NPD.
LFFBF: What’s NPD?
LFFB: Narcissistic Personality Disorder.
LFFBF: What’s that?
LFFB: I don’t know exactly, but I think it’s a condition where a person thinks that the entire universe revolves around them.
LFFBF: That would explain the self-published autobiography.
LFFB: Yep. He’s quite shameless. In his memoir he goes into all sorts of detail about his sex life. I mean, he wasn’t just “dating” these older women.
LFFBF: Huh?
LFFB: He was having, um, “irregular” sex with them.
LFFBF: What on earth is “irregular” sex?
LFFB: It’s when you put your …
LFFBF: On second thought, don’t tell me.
LFFB: Well, it’s all in his autobiography if you’re interested.
LFFBF: I think I’ll pass. So why was he “dating” these women?
LFFB: Rent money for his hovel.
LFFBF: Luke Ford lives in a hovel?
LFFB: Yeah.
LFFBF: Any pictures?
LFFB: Of the hovel?
LFFBF: No, of Luke Ford having “irregular” sex with older women?
LFFB: No.
LFFBF: Thank God! Maybe I’ll read his book, as long as there aren’t any pictures. It sounds interesting — in a trainwrecky kinda way.
LFFB: Well if you do, you’ll find out that Luke Ford has only been in one fight in his life. That was in, like, elementary school or something. He lost. So I’m not too scared. Plus, he lives in LA. I have a two thousand mile buffer zone for protection.
LFFBF: How did you get mixed up with this character?
LFFB: Well, it’s my goal in life to get mentioned on Instapundit. So I needed a blog. Luke Ford seemed as good a subject as any. I mean all the really good topics were taken and I was sorta scraping the bottom of the barrel for ideas.
LFFBF: I think so.
LFFB: In retrospect it hasn’t worked very well, ‘cuz I keep sending Glenn Reynolds emails whenever I update my blog hoping for a link and he keeps ignoring me.
LFFBF: Why do you care? I mean all Reynolds does is link to other sites and adds “Heh!” It’s ridiculous. And to think he’s made enough money from his stupid blog to buy a new Dell 700m laptop. It just isn’t fair.
LFFB: I know. But for whatever reason he’s, like, the number one blogger. I just want to get a link, then I can die happy.
LFFBF: Maybe you need to set your sights higher. Like have a bigger goal in life than getting a link on Instapundit.
LFFB: No, that’s my goal in life. All I want is to get mentioned on Instapundit. But I don’t know how.
LFFBF: You need a big story. A scoop.
LFFB: You mean like a sex scandal?
LFFBF: Yeah, a sex scandal.
LFFB: Oh, I don’t know. I think if there was some sort of big sex scandal involving Luke Ford, he would have mentioned it in his autobiography. I tell you, the dude is shameless.
LFFBF: But what if there is something so embarrassing that even a shameless narcissist like Luke Ford wouldn’t mention it?
LFFB: Wow! That would really have to be some scandal.
LFFBF: And if you do some investigative reporting, discover the scandal, and publish the findings on your blog there’s no way Glenn Reynolds could keep ignoring you.
LFFB: That would be so cool! I mean for me. For Luke Ford … not so much.
LFFBF: Why do you care?
LFFB: Well, I don’t think Luke Ford is such a bad person.
LFFBF: Please! You said he’s just like Andrew Sullivan. I remember reading somewhere that everybody who knows Sullivan just hates him. Apparently, he’s an arrogant jerk.
LFFB: Maybe. But Luke Ford is different. People who know him say that in real life he’s actually very nice.
LFFBF: No, the problem is you’re too nice. No wonder Glenn Reynolds keeps ignoring you. Listen to me: if you want to be successful in life and get mentioned on Instapundit you have to be ruthless. Did you read Rebecca Schoenkopf’s recent mauling of Tawny Kittaen in the OC Weekly.
LFFB: OMG! That was so mean. I almost felt sorry for Kittaen. Then I remembered that she dated OJ.
LFFBF: Exactly! These celebrities — Kittaen, OJ, Sullivan, Ford — they’re all the same. They’re monsters. That’s how they became celebrities. You don’t think they stepped on people — and worse — on their climb to the top? That’s how the world works, I’m afraid.
LFFB: I guess. I just don’t know where to begin my research.
LFFBF: Why not start with Andrew Sullivan?
LFFB: Huh?
LFFBF: You said Luke Ford has a lot in common with Andrew Sullivan.
LFFB: Yeah, they both seem to have dual personalities and lead double lives.
LFFBF: There you go. Maybe Luke Ford has an embarrassing personal ad on some website?
LFFB: You think?
LFFBF: Perhaps.
LFFB: You mean with nekkid pictures?
LFFBF: Perhaps.
LFFB: On a gay website?
LFFBF: Perhaps.
LFFB: Soliciting black men to … um …
LFFBF: Perhaps.
LFFB: Oh my.
June 30, 2005:
“Veronica” emails to say she is not a leftist. That’s good. But is a feminist. That’s not so good. Apparently, and I did not know this, you can be a feminist without being a leftist.
Whatever!
“Veronica” is so yesterday.
My Moral Leader has moved on to, oh, let’s call her “Lindy.” He hasn’t sent me any pictures of “Lindy” yet, but he claims that she’s a very beautiful, yellow Ford Mustang-driving, 6′ tall blonde 24 year-old PhD student. I see a problem right there. Mr Ford is only 5’6¾” so “Lindy” towers over him, all emasculating-like.
So many women! So many aliases for me to keep track of! It’s all very confusing. I do know one thing: I was very wrong to claim (based on no evidence whatsoever!) that Mr Ford — so long as he stays on his meds — is a sensitive, caring gentleman.
Not true! Not even close to being true! What was I thinking?
Meds or no, Our Moral Leader is a womanizing scoundrel! What kind of behaviour is he role-modelling for all his young and impressionable followers? I haven’t been so disappointed in Mr Ford since that awful escapade with Kitten Natividad — you know the one where Horrid Boy stuck his ______ in Kitten’s ___. Gross!
Mr Ford insists I update my blog. He also insists I don’t discuss his new girlfriend, despite the fact that he keeps sending me pictures of her and asking if I think she’s beautiful.
Hey, you can’t do this to me, Luke. I must write about your fabulous new girlfriend. It’s big news. Every Luke Ford fan wants the inside story on Our Moral Leader’s love life. We find it fascinating! Absolutely FASCINATING!! ABSOLUTELY, TOTALLY, COMPLETELY FASCINATING!!!
Oh, don’t fret Mr Ford. I’ll be discreet.
Yes, Mr Ford’s new girlfriend is very beautiful. She’s also well-educated, with serious intellectual interests, making her, I’m sure, an engaging conversationalist. Mr Ford is very smart (IQ 185) and very chatty (for a dude), so this is all very, very important.
It certainly looks as if Luke’s ship has come in. Just in time, too. Next year, Mr Ford will be too old to attend the Young Jewish Singles Nights where he meets all his twentysomething lovelies. Instead, he’ll be stuck hitting on blue-haired grannies at the local Senior Citizen Center’s Lonely Hearts (i.e., Loser’s) Nights. And if you’re familiar with Mr Ford’s autobiography, and didn’t skip over the chapters about how Our Moral Leader use to make extra cash when he first moved to LA, you’ll know he’s been down that well-worn path many times before.
While Mr Ford is overjoyed at his good fortune, and I am sincerely happy for him, I do have some doubts about, um, oh, let’s call her “Veronica.”
First, does Mr Ford really want to move to Indiana to be with his new love? What’s the job market like in Indiana? Is there a shortage of moral leaders? One can’t just up and move out of the hovel. It’s important to think about the logistics involved. And just think how difficult it would be for Mr Ford to leave behind “Best Friend” Cathy, and his little flock of wayward teen p— stars who drop by the hovel once a week for their hands-on group counselling session.
Second, it appears, from my research on the Internet, that “Veronica” is a feminist. (What is it about Jewish women and feminism?) She’s also apparently very left-wing. (What is it about Jewish women and left-wingism?) This is going to be a problem because Our Moral Leader is known for his less than progressive political views — and he has quite the paper trail to prove it.
Of course, it can be fun to date a leftist. There’s lots of potential for teasing. You can wave around your copy of The Road to Serfdom and win every argument because, well, leftists are twits. They can’t defend their arguments with reason, because leftism has nothing to do with facts or logic. It’s all about emotion. So when your left-wing girlfriend starts droning on about how wonderful socialism is, respond by pointing out that Ludwig von Mises and Friedrich von Hayek proved way back in the 1930s that a socialist economy can’t possibly work. And keep going on and on about this — yell, if necessary — and don’t stop until you’ve made your left-wing girlfriend cry. Trust me, it’s a lot of fun!
Of course, then she’ll dump you for being “mean” and “horrible” and a “jerk.” So, on second thought, don’t do this. Instead try the following:
The key thing to understand about most women is that their lives revolve around their relationships. What most women want, more than anything else, is to love and be loved. Love and affection are all important for them. For men? Not so much. We’re perfectly happy just to sit and watch ESPN Classic TV for hours and hours (and hours). This is our great advantage over women, and if you’re a cruel, selfish monster, you can take advantage of women by playing on their need to be loved. Fortunately, Mr Ford is NOT a monster — notwithstanding his NPD (Narcissistic Personality Disorder). Oh, and his ADHD (Attention-Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder). And, of course, his appalling misogyny. At the end of the day, he’s really not such a bad guy. In fact, when he’s on his meds, Mr Ford is the sensitive, caring type. The key, though, is to combine sensitivity with creativity.
Do you write poetry, Mr Ford? Better yet can you play a musical instrument (preferably a guitar, although a piano will do) and sing? Women love this.
If you’re not very creative don’t settle by showing her the lyrics to your favourite Air Supply song. No, no, no, NO! That’s lame. Instead, steal a few lines from some long-dead, obscure poet whose work can’t be Googled, and tell “Veronica” you wrote them all by yourself — just for her! And it took hours and hours (and hours)!
Women love shopping. Women love having stuff bought for them. Better still is if you can make something for your girl. Can you whittle, Mr Ford? What about metal work? Are you good at metal working, Mr Ford? Or better yet painting. Can you paint, or maybe sculpt? If not, don’t worry. Just buy some trinket from a gift shop and give it to “Veronica” and say you made it yourself — just for her! And it took hours and hours (and hours)! If she asks how you made it, quickly change the topic and say: “My your hair looks especially beautiful today. Is that a new colour, or something?”
Do you like opera, Mr Ford? Women love high culture. And no Air Supply isn’t high culture. Get cultured, Mr Ford, molto rapidamente. Study Italian. Take art, music, and food appreciation courses at your local community college. Go to the symphony and practice staying awake. Learn about flowers and gardening and boring shit like that.
Women love physical affection. Can you be physically affectionate, Mr Ford, without being sexual? Can you hold your girl and not grope her naughty bits?
Finally, role model good dating behaviour for Cathy Jr. by being faithful. Don’t give up on your relationship with “Veronica” just because you hit a rough patch. Think long term: there are few things worse than growing old all alone.
Good Luck, Mr Ford!
July 6, 2005:
Luke Ford
(aka Mr Ford, My Moral Leader, Our Moral Leader, Chaim Amalek, Rabbi Gadol, Khunrum, Duke Floored, Dear Friend Tom, et al.)
Today I begin a series of profiles of leading Jewish public intellectuals. This will help me learn more about the people I hope to soon join. What kind of people are the Jews? How do the Jews, practising and non-practising, conceive of themselves relative to Christians, Muslims, and others? What are their moral values and politics? What, for example, is the relationship between diaspora Judaism and leftism, Zionism and conservatism? These are complex and fascinating issues. I will start, of course, by profiling the Great Luke Ford, and proceed to other leading figures across the political spectrum, such as Bertell Ollman, Dennis Prager, Noam Chomsky, Melanie Phillips, Mark Steyn, Rebecca Schoenkopf, David Horowitz, Christopher Hitchens (and his little brother Peter), “Best Friend” Cathy Seipp, and many more.
Most of the material for my profile of Luke Ford comes from his best-selling autobiography, XXX-Communicated: A rebel without a shul, supplemented by a number of frankly bizarre telephone conversations (Mr Ford blurts out the darndest things), and even stranger email exchanges. (Mr Ford has recently taken to sending me, for reasons I can’t begin to fathom, detailed descriptions of his creepy sexual fantasies about “Best Friend” Cathy. I kid you not! He stopped, thankfully, after I threatened to publish them on my blog. If Mr Ford wasn’t a world famous Moral Leader, I’d suspect that there was something wrong with him, you know, in the head — in addition, that is, to his NPD and ADHD.)
Luke Ford is 5′ 6¾” and weighs 235 pounds.
He claims to be 39 years old and to have been raised by a tribe of wild aborigines in the Australian outback. Critics reject both assertions, arguing that Mr Ford is actually much older and lies about his age so he can continue to attend Friday Night Live For Young Jewish Singles at Temple Sinai. The latter claim, although more plausible, is widely believed to be simply an excuse for his strange eating and sleeping habits. (Mr Ford always eats with his fingers and sleeps on the floor.)
It’s true that Luke Ford is an Australian. He was, in fact, born into an Australian family of deeply-committed Seventh Day Adventists, a millennialist Christian sect that preaches the imminent Second Coming of Jesus Christ. The Seventh Day Adventists Church was founded in the mid-19th century in America. Mr Ford’s family moved to California for religious reasons when Luke was about 10 or 12. (I can’t remember the exact details as I’m working from memory. I read XXX-Communicated about two years ago, and because I’ve set myself the difficult task of profiling all the leading contemporary Jewish public intellectuals, I don’t have the time to go back and re-read Mr Ford’s memoir. But, I think, I have the gist of My Moral Leader’s life story. I trust you will forgive me for any minor error of detail.)
Luke Ford was a sensitive boy. He liked to read and listen to his record collection, his favourites being Air Supply, ABBA, the Village People, Donna Summer, Gloria Gaynor, Bette Midler, and fellow countryman Peter Allen.
A great catastrophe occurred in Mr Ford’s life when he was a boy. His mother died tragically of cancer. This event devastated young Luke and deeply affects him to this day. I suspect it helps explain his adult conversion to Judaism, a religion based on a covenant, i.e., conditional relationship, between G-d and His people. This perhaps reminded Luke of his family life. Luke’s father expressed his love for his family by creating a very structured environment with many rules and regulations that Luke found a challenge to consistently follow. Conceivably he misinterpreted his father’s parenting style as an absence of unconditional love, which combined with the loss of his biological mother, led him to a lifelong search for affection that deep inside he doesn’t feel he always deserves.
Mr Ford attended UCLA and hoped to major in economics. Unfortunately, he found the experience difficult — not intellectually (Luke has a self-reported IQ of 185), but emotionally. He felt lost and lonely on a large, impersonal campus. Claiming to be suffering from debilitating exhaustion (diagnosed as Chronic Figure Syndrome [CFS], although later thought to be an expression of his NPD), and needing the care and attention of his family, Mr Ford returned home where he remained essentially bed-ridden for the next six years.
During this period, Mr Ford spent much of his time listening to the radio, specifically a talk radio station that featured Jewish moral leader Dennis Prager. Mr Prager soon became the dominant figure in Luke Ford’s life.
Luke Ford began studying Judaism in an attempt to understand why Mr Prager was such a brilliant thinker, writer, and lecturer. The more Luke studied, the stronger he felt. It seemed that he gained energy just from listening to Mr Prager and studying Torah. Soon Mr Ford decided to become a Jew, just like his moral leader. Luke Ford wrote to Mr Prager informing him of this momentous decision. Mr Prager responded positively:
Dear Dude,
Kool!
Peace,
DP
This was the most encouraging, and longest, letter Mr Ford had ever received from anyone. Now a bundle of energy, Mr Ford knew he had made the right decision.
Luke Ford continued to correspond with Mr Prager over many months. One day Mr Prager asked Luke to move to Los Angeles to become his research assistant for $6,000 per year. Mr Ford was overjoyed. This was his dream job: to be research assistant to the Great Dennis Prager. Alas, it was too good to be true.
Mr Ford travelled to Los Angeles and found a hovel (now known as The Hovel™) appropriate to his modest budget and close to Dennis Prager’s radio studio. But when an enthusiastic Luke Ford showed up at work on his first day, Mr Prager told him his services weren’t needed:
Luke Ford: Good morning, sir. What a wonderful, wonderful day it is. I’m so excited to be here. What would you like me to research first, sir?
Dennis Prager: Who the fuck are you?
LF: Luke Ford, sir. Your new research assistant, sir.
DP: Huh?
LF: Your new research assistant, sir. I’m the chap with CFS that you’ve been corresponding with over the past couple of years during my conversion to Judaism …
DP: [eyes rolling]
LF: … and you offered me the position of research assistant. Remember?
DP: Vaguely.
LF: Well, here I am!
DP: Well, you can fuck off because I don’t need you!
LF: What?
DP: Yeah, I decided that having a dude for a research assistant is fucking gay.
LF: It is?
DP: Yeah, dude. So I’ve hired a slutty 19 year old community college girl, instead. She’s 44FF-14-34 and smoking hot!
LF: Oh.
DP: So, fuck off!
LF: You know, sir, you’re much different in person than on the radio.
DP: You mean the whole moral leader thing?
LF: Yeah.
DP: Well, dude, it’s all an act.
LF: So you don’t want me to be your research assistant?
DP: That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you for the past five minutes. What’s wrong with you? Are you a fucking moron, or something?
LF: No, I’m just shocked and disappointed. I mean I moved to Los Angeles to work for you. Now what am I supposed to do?
DP: Why the fuck should I care?
LF: [sniff]
DP: Oh cheer up, dude. You’re here in LA, so why don’t you become an actor?
LF: An actor? I don’t know anything about acting.
DP: Okay. How about a model?
LF: A model? Really? You think I could be a male model?
DP: Yeah, why not?
LF: Well, I’m rather chubby. I’ve been bed-ridden for the past six years. I weigh 235 pounds.
DP: Ever heard of plus-sized modelling, dude?
LF: No.
DP: Check it out. In the meantime get the fuck out of my office or I’ll kick your ass!
Mr Ford was devastated after meeting Dennis Prager in person. The Great Dennis Prager turned out not to be so great after all. In fact, he was a creep, just like the actor Jeff Goldblum. (The stories about that guy … my oh my!)
But Luke Ford was still partially under the sway of Mr Prager. Mr Ford continued to listen to the Dennis Prager Radio Show religiously and even tried his hand a plus-sized male modelling, just as Dennis Prager suggested.
In America there are fat people all over the place. (I don’t think I’ve ever seen a fat person i