Slut and nothing but
Could everyone please stop picking on Rush Limbaugh?
He's doing the best he can. Radio Asshole is not his regular job. His regular job, the last time he held one, was dreaming up promotions for the Kansas City Royals. And he was conscientious and creative, until the Liberal Media got him fired over Ten Cent Oxycontin Night. Remember that game? In the bottom of the sixth they started to cover the infield, only to discover that it wasn't actually raining -- it was the fans in the upper deck, drooling. Nobody was willing to admit that, in the post-George Brett era, the only way to watch that team is doped off your ass.
So now he has four hours of radio time to fill, five days a week, and an audience of knuckle-dragging morons. What is he supposed to do, read the Federalist Papers? Invite calls about the Greek economic crisis, which not even Greeks understand? It is an axiom of radio that you never talk over the heads of your listeners, so he's reduced to shouting "slut" and "witch" and other one-syllable words. So many one-syllable words are proscribed by the FCC that it must be tempting to just turn off the microphone and play music. Rush doesn't do that. He perseveres. I've seen video of him in the studio, sweating, bellowing, red-faced, risking another heart attack, but staying at his post like David Bowie at the Alamo.
All I'm saying, don't judge the man until you've sat in his chair puddle for a day.
He's doing the best he can. Radio Asshole is not his regular job. His regular job, the last time he held one, was dreaming up promotions for the Kansas City Royals. And he was conscientious and creative, until the Liberal Media got him fired over Ten Cent Oxycontin Night. Remember that game? In the bottom of the sixth they started to cover the infield, only to discover that it wasn't actually raining -- it was the fans in the upper deck, drooling. Nobody was willing to admit that, in the post-George Brett era, the only way to watch that team is doped off your ass.
So now he has four hours of radio time to fill, five days a week, and an audience of knuckle-dragging morons. What is he supposed to do, read the Federalist Papers? Invite calls about the Greek economic crisis, which not even Greeks understand? It is an axiom of radio that you never talk over the heads of your listeners, so he's reduced to shouting "slut" and "witch" and other one-syllable words. So many one-syllable words are proscribed by the FCC that it must be tempting to just turn off the microphone and play music. Rush doesn't do that. He perseveres. I've seen video of him in the studio, sweating, bellowing, red-faced, risking another heart attack, but staying at his post like David Bowie at the Alamo.
All I'm saying, don't judge the man until you've sat in his chair puddle for a day.
Labels: Words. Words. Words.
posted by Buttermilk Sky at 10:09 PM
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