Posts Tagged ‘Kellyanne Conway’
There was an article this week that talked about how you can surveil someone through their phones, through their—certainly through their television sets, any number of different ways. And microwaves that turn into cameras, et cetera. So we know that that is just a fact of modern life.
It’s not. But so said Kellyanne Conway, Donald Trump’s senior advisor with an office on the 2nd floor of the White House (because he doesn’t like stairs), and the first woman to run a winning Presidential campaign. She is also the person who invented the phrase “alternative facts” and the Bowling Green Massacre. (Also fun fact: Conway’s husband, George T. Conway III, is a litigation partner at law firm Wachtell, Lipton, Rosen & Katz, whose previous notable alumni include Glenn Greenwald.)
Conway’s rise to power and fame has been long and steady. She first gained prominence as a right-wing blond pundit in the 1990s, along with Laura Ingraham and Barbara Olson. Over the years she has worked for Newt Gingrich and Todd “Legitimate Rape” Aikin. In 2016 she endorsed Ted Cruz for President and campaigned for him and against Donald Trump. Her numerous media appearances blasting Trump blasted her into election year stratosphere, so much so that when Cruz folded his wings, Conway was brought to the Trump campaign by the very scary Mercer family. (Mercers are just like the Kochs, but 100% more evil. They own Breitbart, among many other notable acts of devilry.) Once at the helm of Trump’s campaign, Conway really began to shine. Her dizzying feats of triangulation, circular talk and topic avoidance, became an Olympic sport. And it’s really not too crazy to say that she is a yuge reason Trump managed to “win.” She helped humanize him. Somehow, for a very long time, people managed to see Conway as a human herself, even SNL (where she is played by Kate McKinnon) always portrayed her as a good person stuck in an impossible situation working for an awful man, but not knowing how to stop him. (Same fantasies still exist about Ivanka Trump and Melania, contrary to all existing evidence.) That is patent nonsense, of course. Conway knew exactly what she was doing and helped give the world Trump. She is not a victim.
But everything that goes up must come down. And Conway is on her way down. Her TV appearances have dwindled because nobody wants to book her. She was temporary banned from CNN. She has been permanently (?) banned from Morning Schmoe. Shep Smith on Fox openly mocks her. (“…senior adviser Kellyanne Conway — who we don’t quote much anymore because, well, history”). Each time she gives a major interview she invents a crazy story (Bowling Green Massacre and spying microwaves are most notable over the past few weeks.) She also got a fair amount of… shall we call it “alternative feedback” to a photo of her sitting on the couch in the Oval Office with her feet up while surrounded by a large group of black men. Granted, she was prepping to take a photograph and that was one way to do it. (One way, not the only way). But when you combine all the nonsense, Conway really does seem to be coming undone and unhinged.
In a February piece in the New York Times, Erin Gloria Ryan, summarized her growing dislike for Conway, which to her centers on Conway’s faux feminism.
Once she took the reins of Donald Trump’s campaign, though, she went from smooth to slippery. She’d hammer Hillary Clinton for talking too much about gender and duck behind her femininity in the face of legitimate criticism. If she succeeded, it was because she was Kellyanne. If she failed, it was because she was a woman.
As Kellyanne’s once-forceful cable news denials have disintegrated into whimpers, I can’t say I feel anything for her at all. I don’t mind when people point out how tired she looks. I simply cannot dredge up any sympathy for a person who has acknowledged the structural problems most women face only when she is personally facing them, or used them as derailing tactics when she’s losing an argument. I can’t mourn the downfall of a fair-weather feminist, a woman who has used her power to hurt other women.
Ms. Conway made her bed. And now it’s time for her to get some sleep.
In different, lighter and more empowering news: it took 188 years for Fanny Mendelssohn to get some recognition she deserves, but better late than never. Fanny was the older sister of Felix Mendelssohn, one of the great Romantic composers, who – among many great works of music – gave us the Wedding March. In 1829 he is said to have written a piano sonata. The manuscript, which was discovered in the 20th century, was autographed “F Mendelssohn” and the assumption was that it was Felix’s. But in 2010 a Duke graduate student proved that “F” was Fanny, not Felix, and last week the work was finally performed with Fanny’s name attached as composer. We actually know that Fanny composed over 460 pieces of music. It was unusual for women to openly composer and publish, so Felix arranged to have a handful of her works published under his name. In 1842, when visiting Queen Victoria at Buckingham Palace, the Queen told Felix that she intended to sing one of his songs for him. Felix confessed that the song was actually composed by his sister. Fanny died in 1847 and is buried in Berlin.
All too often, internet shorthand stumps me. So off I go to the Urban Dictionary, like I did with “tbh” and “to be honest,” until I saw it I had no idea.
You are probably wondering why I’m going out of my way to advertise my ignorance? Pretty simple: Actively seeking understanding is power. We “libruls” understand that. Those on the other side have retooled their party around the credo of “power through obfuscation and misunderstanding.”
It’s as if there’s a “Parade of Deplorables” being led by a bloated balloon of neediness in the shape of an orange-hued con man and a drum majorette, Khaleesi Conway, a breeder of dragons who makes nightmares come true. To paraphrase Lt. Aldo Raine from Inglourious Basterds, “You probably heard PeeOTUS and Khaleesi Conway ain’t in the truth-tellin’ business, they in the double-dealin’, deceitful, duplicity business. And cousin, business is a’boomin’!”
Tbh, their shirtless BFF Putin hasn’t been this happy since he found a use for that third nipple. Just think, with a set of rubber sheets and a couple of small-bladdered babushkas, half the American public no longer trusts the CIA while the Republican Party is one shot of vodka away from being Putin’s baby mama.
This Kremlin/FSB hacking operation couldn’t have shaken American institutions any more if you had hidden a quart of oil and turned loose a Oklahoma fracking operation.
This operation has brought out all manner of gaseous Russian nesting dolts. Those people who whine and bray about those 70,000 white guys in Pennsylvania, Michigan, and Wescottsin who are pissed off that their 72 inch flat screens only have 200 sports and 600 porn channels.
To hear the likes of comrade Bernie and Frau Jane tell it, we need to chase these 70,000 guys out of their deer stands, off their four-wheelers, and camp out at Nascar races to tell them how much we empathize with their economic plight. We have to tell them they have an NRA guaranteed constitutional right to earn about twice as much as a teacher, have better health care, take four weeks vacay, as long as they worship the good book, Hillbilly Elegy, and pray to a guy named J.D. Vance.
It’s now a religion to accept the child abuse of J.D.’s dysfunctional family as a quaint sociological Uber-ride straight to 1955 without mention of the purple bruising against their lazy lily-whiteness. This “other side of the tracks” chic is a fixer-upper just like a mid-century renovation without the “open concept” kitchen.
For poor millionaire folks like Bernie, Frau Jane, and J.D. (Just Darlin’), it has to be about the economics because, “They is kind. They is smart. And they is important.” But, to be honest, “No it ain’t.” It is because the Trump voters are hostile sexists and rabid racists. And in Kentucky, they can no longer have sex with their pets, but they can continue to indiscriminately date other barnyard animals.
Here’s what their sexism and racism looks like before they buy an oven mitt celebrating it at Cracker Barrel.
Even after their tattoos have failed spell check, it is possible to overcome this WWE/MMA mentality. It only takes 10 minutes of engaged storytelling. For the 70,000 unibrowed, deep-set eyes crowd, “It places a premium on being smart but is skeptical, even contemptuous, of public displays of the work of getting smart…Ours is a culture of cleverness, not of knowledge, one that is far more comfortable in assessing wit than in assessing evidence.”
This will-o-the-wisp cleverness, written in spasms of 140 characters, is where these political Yetis dwell – sniffing at Proust, but reeking of Breitbart and waxing eloquent from the verbal explosive diarrhea of Alex Jones. The internet’s public square is littered with the intellectually homeless.
Tbh, collectively we are impressed with a Texas oil guy who was CEO of a gang of international mud engineers who now believes he can master Foggy Bottom in one grand leap of fastidiousness. Everyone is focused on the bigness of his office, but is missing the smallness of the man. I have never known an executive who is a lifelong company man – a man who has never been challenged with a new corporate “repotting” – who is kept awake at night by original ideas.
Tillerson, a man who is a success by fluffing the corporate rung just above him, and the clamorous Yam, whose greatest joy is pissing upon those below him, are uniquely unsuited for vistas of self-awareness and discovery. You can easily see the commanding vacuity of Tillerson – he’s a man who sends his shirts out to be stuffed.
The lesson we are about to learn is a simple one. Actions borne of anger are seldom, if ever, decisions celebrated for their clarity of purpose. The Trumpanzee is uniquely adept at flinging the feces produced by the prolific arseholes of the Tea Party. He’s a Vesuvius of frothing at the pie hole and a Death Valley of generosity of spirit – the perfect avatar of crippling anger and brilliant ignorance shining from a hilltop as a beacon of impending disaster.
To be honest, the Trump/Putin administration offers vintage rage rarely seen more than once a century. The Chinese curse of living in interesting times could not be truer if it were printed on a Trump tie and shod in Ivanka boots.
What’s on your mind today?
Good morning Widdershins.
Matt Taibbi’s analogy of Goldman Sachs to a vampire squid in 2010 has long been a favorite of mine. It’s brilliantly simple and effective. I’ve thought long and hard about something comparable for the metastasized garbage scow calling itself the Trump campaign.
The habitues of the campaign’s sanctum sanctorum are Steve Bannon, David Bossie, and Kellyanne Conway. Some background is in order. Bannon was the CEO of the one-holed outhouse calling itself Breitbart.com before his peacock mating dance with the Manhattan Meerkat began.
David Bossie has never earned a dollar from a job that didn’t involve Clinton derangement. Before becoming a tangerine nubbin sucker headquartered at Trump Tower, he was actually President of Citizen’s United (it’s a real thing, not just an abhorrent Supreme Court case).
And then there’s Chatty Kelly, the Todd Akin legitimate rape, Ted Cruz loving, Trump enabling, mother fudge-maker married to the man thought to have emailed Drudge about the shape of Bill Clinton’s penis.
These people have spent three decades living in a delusional world of an all-consuming, white-hot, hatred of the Clintons. They loathe Bill, Hillary, and probably Charlotte and Aidan, too. They arise fuming about them and go to bed hoping to dream of their demise.
If you believe the saying, “If you love what you do, you will never work a day in your life,” these people have never turned in a day’s work in their lives. Their lifeblood is one long Clinton delusional psychosis.
So this Trumpian circle is comprised of creatures who live in the darkness of an over-arching abhorrence of the Clintons. They are oblivious to anything but their hatred. They have evolved to be the perfect denizens of the padded rooms of the darkest reaches of the internet where animosity is the coin of the realm.
They are the naked mole rats of politics. Naked mole rats live in a harsh environment, but have evolved to be virtually indestructible. They have long lives. What is remarkable about them is that they have evolved to be extremely insensitive to pain. They are born this way. They live this way. You can pour acid on them and they won’t feel it. They live in eusocial colonies like ants and bees. The queen rat fights for dominance to the death. She and her boy toy servicing rats are the only reproducing rats in the colony.
If this Trumpian triumvirate had a coat of arms, it would feature the crossed teeth of the naked mole rat. They are virtually indestructible and oblivious to the pain they cause. They live to support and sustain the hating colony.
Here’s an observation for what it’s worth. All the talking heads point to the ignominy of what has become the orangeloupe’s campaign. Here’s my bet.
The naked mole rats surrounding the orangeloupe could care less about the campaign. They knew the toxicity of what they were selling from the get-go. Unburdened by actually trying to win, they now have free rein to engage in what they exist to do without feeling or care – spew unfounded bile on a national level against the Clintons. The Republican Party is merely the hobby horse they rode to the party.
They have discovered political naked mole rat heaven.
They have a stooge they can wind-up with a teleprompter to touch all the erogenous zones of the critters of the fever swamp. These naked mole rats have evolved to the point of the perfect, Clinton-hating vermin. They have reached the pinnacle of their evolutionary journey. Who would have thought that journey would end at Trump Tower?
What’s on your mind today?
Good morning Widdershins. We are in D+36, freshly scrubbed from Sunday night’s Republican pre-Halloween grave digging. It was as if the Headless Horseman borrowed someone’s jack-o-lantern, carved a hen’s butt for a mouth, and turned it loose for a Walking Dead audition.
All the polls say Hillary won the debate by double digits. There was carping by Leftie bed wetters about why Hillary failed to put the Yam away. Here’s why she didn’t: Strategically, there is nothing better than having Trump as the head of the Republican ticket.
If Hillary had put the rancid, orange Vienna Sausage away, Republicans would have hightailed it like there was a fire at the two-for-one whorehouse. A ticket led by Trump is Nancy Pelosi’s readmission to the Speaker’s Office. Trump is going to be tied around every Republican candidate like a cheap Chinese necktie. Unlike Obama, Hillary and her pips are playing three-dimensional politics for Democratic down ballot candidates.
Hillary flourished Sunday night, we survived, and we saw that a cornered rat is always full of fight, but still susceptible to its love of fermented diary products. The clamorous Yam’s behavior isn’t surprising. He can’t be what he’s not – so we can forget the possibility of a decent person miraculously appearing.
I believe what we saw Sunday night was a preview of a new cable channel – low def CDS. It seems as if the polarization profiteers have gained absolute control of the orange gorilla’s snortables in order to go full tilt in the pursuit of salacious vulgarity. Who are these polarization profiteers of whom I speak?
Steve Bannon, Breitbart’s pernicious earwig, David Bossie, a hissing cockroach whose entire career has involved Clinton derangement, and Chatty Kellyanne Conway, the cow killer mutillidae, the real charmer and great pretender of the insect and political world. They have been hating Clintons since Marky Mark was still running with the Funky Bunch.
All three of these psuedo-humans perfectly mimic their diabolical insect namesakes. When we thought they couldn’t go lower, they went all Deepwater Horizon on us. They have learned when you ride a tiger; it is awfully hard to dismount.
The most honest thing the crumb at the bottom of the Cheeto bag ever said was, “I’ll run for President and make money at it.” That’s what we saw last night – a sneak peek of coming attractions on the CDS channel, the visual fever swamp of the Alt-right deplorables.
There will be a remake of Murder She Wrote in her Emails. There will a soap opera Days of our Wives that times the marriages of these cretins with a sweep secondhand. There will be a wildlife show like Animal Planet, but it will be called Animal Penthouse as a live feed from Trump’s office and apartment. Of course, there will be Scandal updates on the hour and the news will be Fairly Unbalanced. After hours there will be a soft-porn homoerotic, all shirtless Putin program.
Undoubtedly, Roger Ailes will be in charge of personnel, leg cameras, and skirt height. Rudy Giuliani will have a show called The 4 Ds: Dementia, Dental Disease, and Divorce. Chris Christie will have two shows – a new take on a cooking show called, Believe Me, I Ate the Whole Thing and Bridgegate: Stories from Prison.
This CDS channel will be the first cable channel to utilize smell-o-vision. Tuning in will reek of regret just like its owners and stars. These people live their lives with such iridescent regret their only outlet is spewing vituperative bile to ease their self-loathing. Just like junkies who need more and more for a better high, they need any facade of political correctness to be stripped away so their venomous attacks can be sprayed with reckless abandon.
The CDS channel will service those who believe Fox is too polite and environmentally friendly. Unhampered by logic or science, the CDS will be long on “feelacts” – those things that feel like facts. All I can say is: Since people who get their news from Fox would be better informed if they listened to no news at all; those who come to be informed by the CDS will be given two coupons for the nearest drive-by lobotomy clinic just in case the first one doesn’t take.
Sunday night Donald Trump did what he knows how to do – belittle, beleaguer, and degrade a woman on stage as well as four seated in the audience. He tried to intimidate through sheer size and Lurch-like looming. If his sentences were jigsaw puzzles, we still wouldn’t have the outer edges fitting together, but we recognize the picture on the box top – Greed and Narcissism by Trump during his orange period.
Of this I’m sure, just like Fox, Limbaugh, Hannity, and the rest, the best thing for the business of CDS is a Hillary Rodham Clinton administration. Listen closely and you can tell it’s part of the business plan of the polarization profiteers.
What’s on your mind?
Good morning Widdershinners. It’s a good day for the clamoring Yam to go to Mexico and share Trump Tower’s recipe for original taco bowls. What could go wrong with today’s little field trip?
What I find fascinating is the Yam’s 4% favorability among Mexicans is 3% higher than his favorability among African Americans in THIS country. Heavy is the head of the King Birther when birth certificates come to roost; or something like that.
In any event, all of that mishegas is for another day. Today my friends, I want to geek out.
A sociological construct has been niggling at my “brains”. The construct, “normalization of deviance,” is primarily aimed at organizational and industrial cultures, but I believe it has a great deal of utility in this psychotic election season. First, the definition of “normalization of deviance”:
The gradual process through which unacceptable practice or standards become acceptable. As the deviant behavior is repeated without catastrophic results, it becomes the social norm for the organization.
This theorem was promulgated after the Challenger disaster to explain how NASA and Morton-Thiokol ignored the danger that was repeatedly presented in the O-ring design data. There are other interesting examples such as a museum heist of $500 million, the sinking of the Costa Concordia, and countless errors in health care decisions. Only after the resultant catastrophe does the causal deviance become apparent.
My thesis is this: For the last thirty years we have been exposed to a series of increasingly unacceptable practices. These practices are culminating in this catastrophic election. Without sounding too “Chicken Little’ish”, we can ill-afford to sit idly by until the inevitable catastrophe shocks us into ostracizing those who exceed the bounds of political propriety.
It’s not that I doubt Hillary’s success in November. I do not. It is the unmitigated assault upon what used to be normal and acceptable political behavior that has seemed to disappear during this silly season. We can’t afford to allow this normalized deviance to paralyze another presidential term.
For instance, when has a major party nominated a candidate who has been fact-checked as failing to tell the truth over 90% of the time without paying a political price for it?
When has it ever been acceptable for a presidential candidate to refuse to release tax returns?
When has an “A” rated charity providing life-saving drugs to 11.5 million humans been a greater potential for conflict of interest than a six-time bankrupt businessperson who is in hock to foreign banks and Russian oligarchs? If you watched Face the Nation last Sunday you would be convinced that time is now since Hillary’s emails were mentioned 27 times and Trump’s tax returns were mentioned once.
When was it tolerable for a campaign surrogate to explain away the candidate’s mocking of a disabled reporter by saying, “He was only imitating a standard retard?”
When was it ethical for a news service to put out a knowingly false tweet promoting an upcoming story, acknowledge the falsehood, and then refuse to take down the lie declaring, “No regrets!”
When was it reasonable for a lousy third-rate writer who has made a career out of dogging the Clintons to publish an article with two negative paragraphs about Hillary and twenty-one paragraphs excoriating the clamorous Yam and conclude that Trump can’t be president, but there are eligible third parties for whom to vote?
When was it all right to name a hate-mongering, bigoted, conspiracy theorist from a fever swamp of lewdness as a campaign CEO and suffer no consequence for it?
And to manage the campaign, at the same time bring in the dragoness Komodo Kellyanne Conway, who is accepted by the press as the “normal” one. This same Komodo Kellyanne is the very same person who criticized Hillary for not standing up to a “cheating husband,” advised her client “legitimate rape Todd Akin” to just stop talking about rape, who compared sexual preference to being a slut, and advised women that revulsion towards men in your life is “part and parcel of the feminist movement. If women want to be taken seriously in the workforce, looking feminine is a good place to start.”
This type of normalized deviance is being perpetrated upon the country by the media’s simple-minded, lazy affinity to the Holy Grail of false equivalency, the Manifesto of “both siderism”, and the New Testament of “fair and balanced”. For what is now laughably passing as political dialogue there is no comparison to what has been the norm.
Now all the cable channels are competing for the eyes of the news addicted. The meth heads of news junkies. The twenty-four hour, never change the channel, leave it on all day, typical Fox news demographic. To compete, the anonymous backroom bean-counting executives have proclaimed dumbed-down political analysis to include vacuous stooges who mouth pithy slogans heretofore only scribbled on restroom walls.
It is now passable for bold-faced wing nuts who are little more than amoral talking point Dictaphones to act as political analysts? For example, there’s Fire Marshall Bill look-alike Hugh Hewitt or my new favorite claymation bobblehead, Scottie Nell Hughes. Ms. Hughes, a self-proclaimed journalist/patriot, is the new go-to for CNN after that unfortunate “words is confusing” incident with Katrina Pierson. To understand the depth of Ms. Hughes’ political insight you need go no further than her official C.V. listing as commendable honors:
At the young age of 12 her first reporting job was a Kids to Kids Reporter for WKRN-ABC Nashville. She went on to win the top High School Broadcaster Award for the state of Tennessee and the Broadcaster of the year for her college class 3 years in a row. She won the 2012 Blog Video of the Year by the National Bloggers Club at CPAC.
This lack of critical thinking and this slavish devotion to “both siderism” is moving us toward normalizing the deviance of three decades of baseless, fact-free media where delegitimizing the opposition was the only goal. These tactics are not a two-way street. Only one side plays by these rules. And it is the side claiming to be swathed in the purity of patriotism and a Constitution none of us would recognize.
If only we could go back to the good old days where Republicans limited their deviance to the bedroom and the boardroom, we could indeed make American great, as well as normal, again.
What’s on your mind today?
Good morning Widdershinners. It’s Friday and we have exactly 81 days until Election Day. Maximus Orangius’ name will actually appear on ballots for President of these United States since “Presidentin’ Ain’t No Big Thing.” At least that’s what he says.
This morning #socklessdeadintern was violating federal law and 11th Republican Commandment by comparing Maximus Orangius to Ronald Reagan. Eugene Robinson reminded #sockless that he had met Reagan and Orangius was not Reagan. #sockless is off his game this week because #drunkmika is waking up amongst her Vodka bottles in a vacation kennel at an undisclosed location.
From left, bronze medalist Kristi Castlin, gold medalist Brianna Rollins and silver medalist Nia Ali jump for joy.
This week we saw the appointment of Steve Bannon as Trump’s Minister of Propaganda. Coincidentally, we also saw an interview by a 105-year old lady named Bromhilde Pomsel. Ms. Pomsel just happened to be Joseph Goebbels secretary. Among other things she said:
I just cling to the hope that the world doesn’t turn upside down again as it did then, though there have been some ghastly developments, haven’t there?
She describes Goebbels as “short but well-kept”, of a “gentlemanly countenance”, who wore “suits of the best cloth, and always had a light tan”.
She added he had well-groomed hands and probably had a manicure every day.
Nice suits, a tan, and again, with the hands. Remind you of anyone?
All the talking heads are just agog about Kellyanne Conway, the new doyenne of the clamoring Yam whisperers. Ms. Conway has the ability, just like Paramecium, to just bore ahead in the face of any obstacle or any question, on any subject and automatically shift into the Goebbelsesque drill of “Hillary evil, Bill eviler, and Democrats should be forever condemned to the green room of the Jerry Springer Show.”
So I thought I would share a few of Ms. Conway’s quotes.
As the new chanteuse of the Yam’s kinder, gentler torch song, the chattering class is just atwitter with excitement since there’s been almost twelve hours since last insulting a class of Americans. Hatemongering is difficult to dress up. There are so few things that go with it. In the next 81 days we will see if it is now an acceptable accessory to mainline political discourse.
Here’s a new Hillary ad pointing out the ambulatory Cheetos’ failure to comply with what every modern-day Presidential candidate has done.
Since it looks like we have a new media outlet ejaculating upon the fertile plains of America, here are some of the precursor headlines to NotbrightTrumpbart. The past is prologue.
I leave you with one last video. WARNING: Eye bleach recommended.
What’s on your mind?