Ever wonder why so much of our liberal mainstream television and internet media seems obsessed by all things perverse?
I'll get right to the answer. It's pathological.
I mean that in the strictest sense of the word. Their obsession with all things odorous stems from their own various mental disorders. This "profession" apparently attracts the type of personalities who are fascinated by the seamy, fetid, dark side of life, from politics to child rearing. Remember the kids in your grammar school class who were fascinated watching dogs pee on fire hydrants? Future video-journalists. Kids who smeared the bottom of their desktops with their own boogers? Tv talk show hosts.
Ever notice how video clips of crime shown on tv news broadcasts - let's say dealing with a murder in the inner city here in the US or from Iraq or anywhere between - always begin with a close-up of a bloodstain on the sidewalk, street, floor or wall? It's as if they think they’re broadcasting to an audience of vampires. Notice how they linger on the stain as if the camera person and producers are reaching an orgasm... "Wait, oo, oo, I'm almost... please don't cut away yet... ooo-oo... Oh! Mercyyyy!"
You never see helicopter aerial chases of fire engines with brave firemen racing through city streets to try and save lives, but you always have your favorite show suddenly cut into so the local tv station can show you some fool in a stolen heap racing through the city with ten police cars chasing him. Now you know the camera person and editor are diddling themselves, "Faster, drive faster, oo, oo, please let him crash... oo-oo... look! A semi full of gasoline... oo-oooo... with luck maybe it’ll blew up and kill twenty innocent bystanders... ooh... bloodstains! Oooow! Let me catch my breath."
The pathological Marxist Media is obsessed with every anti-hero, from Ahmadinejad to Zapata. Che, Noriega, bin Laden are their Viagra. Like savants, they make sure they get every exotic-sounding name perfectly correct, as if they are Talmudic scribes: "And now we go to Chastity Jones on the scene at Abu-graib... Chastity..."
"Hey, Felicity, yes I'm here, but I believe it's pronounced Abooo-grah-eeb... back to you, Felicity..."
"Ooo, pardon me, Chastity... could you have your camera person pan and tilt so we can see the urine stains on the walls... maybe find some blood or other bodily fluid, okay?"
The camera zooms in on a stain and Chastity and Felicity begin to shudder, "Ooo... ooo... linger just... ooo... a little bit longrrrrr... oh yes! Yes!"
How else can you possibly explain the Liberal Media rationalizing child molestation, panicking endlessly over diseases spreading through the gay and drug “communities,” trans-gender attention seekers,cross-dressing men who leave their wives and children, women who brutally slaughter their newborns, and their favorite for counting bullet-holes, the drive-by shooting? "The 'alleged' child molester, Professor Whackov (poor gentleman) was himself a victim of molestation when he was merely three years old." Yes, well, I know a kid who was a victim of a severe beating... I guess that means he's off the hook if now that he's an adult, he beats his wife, his boss and one of these news pervs to bloody pulps.
Even FOX-TV had its resident Nosferatu, pathologically obsessed with the Natalie Holloway affair, among others, for what seemed like ten years. She was practically out there on her hands and knees on the Aruban beaches searching for a bone fragment or a fingernail with nail polish made in America. Every day viewers were treated to some new "secret witness" or some new rumor or some new body fluid stain which her equally pathological buddy, Dr. Body-Chopper Bodden, had forensically analyzed, and who proceeded to describe in great detail, visibly excited, vaginal this and penile that and anal the other thing. "Oh Doctor Bodd--odd--dennn. Ooo..." while under her glass desk her hand wanders up her own skirt, her crooked lip drools and her eyes roll off into space. Cut to another commercial for Viagra.
With this pathological mindset bringing us the news every day, is it any wonder America has become a cultural cesspool? They used to show parades, rodeos, baton twirling contests, but now it’s bloodstains, makeshift roadside altars with candles and flowers and Teddies for some slain child, blacks getting beat up, shot or run down by white cops, a fetus found in a dumpster, ministers who molest or kill their neighbors, female teachers who have sex with their 13-year-old students, witnesses to murder whose English is so poor you’re forced to say 'Huh?", turned-over truckloads of illegals including six three-year-olds found dead in the desert, a woman suing some company claiming she found a foreskin in her chili, a cry for donations to bury some poor soul who shouldn't have been in America in the first place, or millions of cockroaches crawling behind the kitchen walls of some ghetto apartment. And in each case you know some editor and videographer are in their darkened editing suite moaning at each and every close-up. It gives new meaning to the old saw, "A three-Kleenex film."
I was never a great fan of Walter Cronkite, but I never caught the old fart on the Six O'Clock News with his fingers in the pie. But then again, they had solid wood desks back then.
