Overton Window: Chapter 14-15
Aug. 25th, 2010 09:08 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sabotabbyChapter 14
The problem with right-wing anti-state paranoia is that, while winguts pay a great deal of lip service to shrinking the government, they also fetishize authority. Like in that scene we just saw, where the supposed bad guys break in and start beating the shit out of people? The greater portion of Beck’s audience popped wood while reading it.
On the one hand, the government is out to get us. On the other hand, cops and soldiers (and, let’s face it, private military contractors) are heroes and if you say anything bad about either profession, you hate America. So who is the state going to send to quell dissent and stifle the truth?
Accordingly, off-camera, the cops decide that they want nothing to do with this, tattle on their superiors, and to avoid a scandal, the teabaggers all go free.
Suddenly, Noah is a teabagger hero. Hollis (the fat friend) thanks him, and then Barbara Emerson, Molly’s mom-but-not-really-her-mom, thanks him, and determines that it should be he who claims the prize of her daughter’s maidenhood. Someone sends a snazzy car for him, so he agrees to drive Molly and Barbara home. We’re treated to some description of the car that suggests that Beck and the car ought to maybe get a room.
If you think I’m kidding:
They drop Barbara off, and then Molly, like the spunky but ultimately subservient model of conservative womanhood that she is, apologizes for misjudging Noah. They agree to get food. Pretty inoffensive, right? You’d think.
It’s okay, you guys. Some of Beck’sbest friends nameless extras in the crowd scenes are black!
And these guys.
We get a boring infodump about Molly’s background. I don’t know if this is in any way relevant, but apparently Barbara is her real mother, and she reverted to her maiden name after her husband died. Not sure why she’d do that, or why the coy “it’s complicated” thing happened earlier. Noah says some things about Bill Clinton that make me think that he and Bill Clinton should get a room. Molly gets him to talk about his father and all the evil things he’s done. Despite the fact that she’s supposed to be more politically savvy than he is, she encourages him to mansplain how coups and wars are won through propaganda and PR rather than bullets. There’s a Godwin violation on page 78—honestly, I would have expected it sooner.
They talk about their parents some more and eat racist food, and then cuddle. She asks him to take her home with him—nothing sexual, just a sleepover. Because she doesn’t feel safe. I told you, these wingnuts are kinky.
Chapter 15
Apparently Molly doesn’t live in New York City, despite the fact that she seems to know a lot of people there, works there, and has a place in the East Village. That’s the only explanation for why she acts gobsmacked at the sight of the Upper East Side and, when Noah shows her two of the places that every visitor to New York City has seen—Central Park and the Met—she continues to gape like a dying fish. Then they go into Noah’s building and she gets ogled by Eliot Spitzer.
I’m not kidding—he’s namedropped. For some reason, it’s totally nasty when Spitzer does it, but fine for Noah to view her as a piece of meat.
Molly runs around his $5 million apartment “like a toy-starved moppet cut loose in FAO Schwarz,” then pops back into his room as he’s reading in bed. Danny cannot be located. This is sheer pretense. She gets in bed with him, but not to do anything sexual, and I’m just going to let Beck speak for himself here:
OH GLENN BECK NO. How is it that he makes cuddling more squicksome and unappealing than that Hagrid/Giant Squid Harry Potter fic?
The panther is his penis.
And we’re done Part 1. Time to break out the champagne, because I have a feeling I am not going to get through Part 2 sober.
The problem with right-wing anti-state paranoia is that, while winguts pay a great deal of lip service to shrinking the government, they also fetishize authority. Like in that scene we just saw, where the supposed bad guys break in and start beating the shit out of people? The greater portion of Beck’s audience popped wood while reading it.
On the one hand, the government is out to get us. On the other hand, cops and soldiers (and, let’s face it, private military contractors) are heroes and if you say anything bad about either profession, you hate America. So who is the state going to send to quell dissent and stifle the truth?
Accordingly, off-camera, the cops decide that they want nothing to do with this, tattle on their superiors, and to avoid a scandal, the teabaggers all go free.
Suddenly, Noah is a teabagger hero. Hollis (the fat friend) thanks him, and then Barbara Emerson, Molly’s mom-but-not-really-her-mom, thanks him, and determines that it should be he who claims the prize of her daughter’s maidenhood. Someone sends a snazzy car for him, so he agrees to drive Molly and Barbara home. We’re treated to some description of the car that suggests that Beck and the car ought to maybe get a room.
If you think I’m kidding:
“You’ll like this,” Noah said, as he opened a center compartment by his side. Behind the sliding door was a neat pyramid of Turkish hand towels, kept constantly warm and moist like fresh dinner rolls. With a set of tongs he passed one to each of them, and then unrolled his own and pressed the steaming cloth to his face, rubbed in the heat, leaned back, and breathed in the faint scents of citrus and therapeutic herbs. His riding companions did the same, and soon there were long sighs from across the compartment, the sounds of unrepentant indulgence, comfort, and relief.
They drop Barbara off, and then Molly, like the spunky but ultimately subservient model of conservative womanhood that she is, apologizes for misjudging Noah. They agree to get food. Pretty inoffensive, right? You’d think.
“Tell Robert we need some orange juice and two Al Sharptons at the curb.” Through the glass divider, he saw the driver nod his head and engage the Bluetooth phone system.
“What’s an Al Sharpton?” Molly asked.
“Fried chicken and waffles…”
It’s okay, you guys. Some of Beck’s
And these guys.
We get a boring infodump about Molly’s background. I don’t know if this is in any way relevant, but apparently Barbara is her real mother, and she reverted to her maiden name after her husband died. Not sure why she’d do that, or why the coy “it’s complicated” thing happened earlier. Noah says some things about Bill Clinton that make me think that he and Bill Clinton should get a room. Molly gets him to talk about his father and all the evil things he’s done. Despite the fact that she’s supposed to be more politically savvy than he is, she encourages him to mansplain how coups and wars are won through propaganda and PR rather than bullets. There’s a Godwin violation on page 78—honestly, I would have expected it sooner.
They talk about their parents some more and eat racist food, and then cuddle. She asks him to take her home with him—nothing sexual, just a sleepover. Because she doesn’t feel safe. I told you, these wingnuts are kinky.
Chapter 15
Apparently Molly doesn’t live in New York City, despite the fact that she seems to know a lot of people there, works there, and has a place in the East Village. That’s the only explanation for why she acts gobsmacked at the sight of the Upper East Side and, when Noah shows her two of the places that every visitor to New York City has seen—Central Park and the Met—she continues to gape like a dying fish. Then they go into Noah’s building and she gets ogled by Eliot Spitzer.
I’m not kidding—he’s namedropped. For some reason, it’s totally nasty when Spitzer does it, but fine for Noah to view her as a piece of meat.
Molly runs around his $5 million apartment “like a toy-starved moppet cut loose in FAO Schwarz,” then pops back into his room as he’s reading in bed. Danny cannot be located. This is sheer pretense. She gets in bed with him, but not to do anything sexual, and I’m just going to let Beck speak for himself here:
“Suit yourself, lady. I’m telling you right now, you made the rules, but you’re playing with fire here. I’ve got some rules, too, and rule number one is, don’t tease the panther.”
OH GLENN BECK NO. How is it that he makes cuddling more squicksome and unappealing than that Hagrid/Giant Squid Harry Potter fic?
The panther is his penis.
And we’re done Part 1. Time to break out the champagne, because I have a feeling I am not going to get through Part 2 sober.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2010-08-25 01:34 pm (UTC)What were we talking about?
(looks back at the text)
...oh
Panther Cub!
no subject
Date: 2010-08-25 01:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-08-25 01:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-08-25 01:44 pm (UTC)Hell, The Human Centipede is less offensive.
Not MUCH less offensive, but still.
no subject
Date: 2010-08-25 01:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-08-25 01:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-08-25 04:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-08-25 02:16 pm (UTC)I am now reminded of the cuddling-with-sexual-tension scene from KKBB
I DID NOT NEED TO CONNECT THAT MASTERPIECE WITH THIS ABOMINATION.
no subject
Date: 2010-08-25 02:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-08-25 02:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-08-25 02:36 pm (UTC)60% of the time
it works every time
no subject
Date: 2010-08-25 03:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-08-25 03:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-08-25 03:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-08-25 05:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-08-25 10:53 pm (UTC)(That doesn't mean Beck wasn't trying to appeal to a racist audience by including that little tidbit in his narrative, but he's also cunningly worked in some plausible deniability.)
no subject
Date: 2010-08-26 12:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-08-26 09:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-08-26 06:22 pm (UTC)