It takes a foreign correspondent planted amid our White House Press Corps to highlight the latter’s dysfunction. During a presser with “Trump of the Tropics”—Brazil’s visiting prime minister, Jair Bolsonaro—a Brazilian lass distinguished herself by focusing exclusively on … hefty matters. When this foreign correspondent asked President Trump about the “OECD,” the furrows on the sloping brows who make up the American press scrum deepened.
To these presstitutes, it mattered not whether America was going to put in a good word for Brazil at the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development, when there was one overriding, life-or-death matter to tackle:
Trump’s irredeemable, unrelenting, absolute awfulness, which not even an exoneration by the sainted Mr. Mueller has ameliorated.
Yes, Grand Inquisitor Robert Mueller found no evidence that the Trump campaign conspired with Russia in the 2016 election. This has altered not a bit the hyperventilating done by the harridans on the ubiquitous television panels.
Let me be clear. When I allude to the women of TV, I include those with the Y Chromosome.
However, other than a few “men”—Don Lemon and his CNN sideshow, Chris Cuomo, come to mind—the housebroken boys on the typical TV panel are tamer than the tarts. Some of the “men” might even be pretending to be temperamentally unhinged in order to hook-up with good-looking girls in the Green Room.
Brooke Baldwin of CNN and Stephanie Ruhle of MSNBC continue to spit out Trump news in CAPS, just so you know HOW EACH ONE FEELS DEEP DOWN INSIDE, AND WHO ARE THE ANGELS AND THE DEMONS IN THE STORY. (Donald and his Deplorables are never angels, if you get the drift.)
Not coincidentally, the asphyxiating hysteria matches the vapid vocabulary. TV’s women rob the English language blind, deploying breathy figures of speech to fit a simpleton’s febrile, emotionally overwrought state-of-mind: “Unbelievable, incredibly embarrassing, amazing, OMG!”
This piss-poor, teenybopper English comes with sound effects. TV’s tarts all speak in insufferable, grating, staccato, tart tones. At least, that’s how I’ve always described the gravelly voice of the tele-ditz. Believe it or not, such a depiction is no longer politically proper. The voices from hell have been dignified. Explains the Economist,
Two vocal features are associated with young women: vocal fry and uptalk. Uptalk, as the name suggests, is the rising intonation that makes statements sound like questions? And vocal fry—often said to be typical of Kim Kardashian, an American celebrity—happens at the ends of words and phrases when a speaker’s vocal chords relax, giving the voice a kind of creaky quality.
Mandatory elocution lessons might ease the viewer’s pain.
Bad English and bad thinking are intertwined. By logical extension, the “ladies” resort reflexively to ad hominen attack. If Trump expresses an opinion, it’s not because he sincerely thinks it or believes it, but because he’s narcissistic, isn’t nice, makes them sad.
As befits the pedestrian minds described, our pig-ignorant panelists (with apologies to pigs) are incapable of grasping the role of government.
TV’s tele-tarts focus not on the role of government, but on the tone of government. …
Previously: “The TV Tarts’ Reign Of Terror, Part 1.”
Is MERCER a man?
Writes Blenda Richter:
Next time don’t hold anything back and let it go, Mercer. Great column. I was happy to see the insufferable Marie Harf (‘barf’ lol!) and the irrational Jessica Tarlov lead your long list. Invective and caustic wit at its best. A modern Mencken. “Bomb China with American bimbos.
Related: “MERCER’S Like A Man …”
Writes Kerry Crowel: “That’s an insult, the modern man doesn’t have near the guts that you do Ilana.”
— Ilana Mercer (@IlanaMercer) April 3, 2019