Comic relief

I've never been a ditto-head.  I'm not even sure what the term means exactly, but I know some wear the t-shirt as if it were a graduation gown.  I've listened to Rush, the King of Talk Radio, and I find him really, really entertaining.  But the particular b.s. he peddles is a whole lot less sweet than the goods I can sniff right outside my backdoor, Siouxland's finest.  Seems to me that those who worship at his sanctuary choose to live in a species of perpetual paranoia that sees doomsday a'comin' sometime next September or even faster if we don't scream.  We're always a day away from the apocalypse, the end of spirit of America or some such tomfoolery.

I really didn't understand what all the vituperation was about when he called the Georgetown law student a slut a month or so ago.  He says stuff like that all the time, doesn't he?  How else would get the ratings, the discipled following?  Any serious entertainer has to push the envelope.  Part of his and others' appeal is that you just never know exactly what they're going to say--except, in a way, you always do.  He'll never, ever forsake his side of the political ledger; he'll just find more outrageous things to say and more outrageous ways of saying it.

My most sorrowful crocodile tears this morning are for him because Huff Post (at least) says his show's ratings fell off a cliff in some major outlets.  In some places, he's way down.  People on the left side of the street might find it hard to think of anything more beneficial to the cause of American decency than a three-inch cork stuffed in in his considerable craw with a bal peen hammer.

Well, Arbitron, who doesn't spin the facts, says his audience tanked considerably in NYC, Houston, Seattle, and Jacksonville.  He may be up here in Sioux Center, I don't know.  Okay, okay--I admit it: I'd enjoy his silence too.

But what pushes me to put his mug up in front of this blog post this morning is the absolutely delightful fact--something he himself will mention I'm sure--that all is not lost in the comliness of his appeal.  Alas, there is, in fact, an observable ratings downturn in some media markets, but that's not true across the board.

Listen to this.  In one city at least, there are more listeners now than there were BEFORE the Sandra Fluke flack.  Want to guess one of them?

Hold on to your chair.  This is too good, really.

Rush Limbaugh is going gangbusters in San Fran.  I'm not kidding.  Right there in the Gay Mecca, in Nancy Polosi's back yard swimming pool, Rush is turning tricks, making converts--today there are more San Francisco ditto heads than there were last month. You gotta love that.

Man bites dog--it's that kind of story.  If he doesn't trumpet such a glorious gain throughout his legion of followers, he's off his game.    

I think it's wonderful.  Rush deserves a vastly bigger audience of adoring liberal dittoheads.  

Long live the King.