The Greatest Pro-Gun Movie Ever, Part 2
In just a minute we'll get to second part of Scott C's summary of Red Dawn (although he gave me the whole thing last week, I am serializing it in an effort to make Scott the Charles Dickens of his time, and to make my life a lot easier). But first, I thought we should take a minute to contemplate the fate of poor Ben Domenech's successor at the WaPo.
Or rather, let's read an bit from D. R. Tucker's Human Events Online piece, "What Will The Left Do To Ben Domenech's Replacement?"
Yes, thanks to liberal bloggers uncovering numerous instances of plagiarism, Domenech is gone from Washingtonpost.com after less than a week. Yet how pathetic is it that the biggest victory the left can celebrate in some time is not an electoral or policy triumph, but the public humiliation of a 24-year-old pundit?
Young Ben has written for HEI, so you can see why they'd be kind of defensive about the whole Ben debacle.
There is talk that Washingtonpost.com plans to replace Domenech with a conservative with a superior journalistic history. I hope he or she is prepared for a left-wing onslaught twice, if not three times, as intense as that which greeted Domenech.
Because liberals are just plain mean, and will attack young conservatives FOR NO REASON AT ALL, like they did to Ben, and to his role model, JimJeff Gannon Guckert. They probably hounded Milli Vanilli out of the music world, just because they objected to the conservative message behind "Girl, You Know It's True." In fact, they'd probably object if JESUS HIMSELF were hired by the Post in order to balance out the lying, depraved, anti-Bush liberal slant which the mainstream media takes on every story. That's just the kind of bastards they are.
BTW, via HEI, I found this photo of Ben when he was a panelist at a conference on blogging hosted by the House Republicans (Ben's fellow panelists included Captain Ed from Captains Quarters, among others). Per HEI, the conference was held in order to teach Republican staffers how to use bloggers to disseminate their talking points. House GOP Conference Vice Chairman Jack Kingston (R-GA) and his “Theme Team,” a group of 85 Members "responsible for helping articulate the House Republican message," convened the workshop. Kingston was quoted as saying that "the blogosphere is poised to become the next big thing in the GOP communication machine’s armada."
So, you can see why young conservative might feel justifiably confused (and put upon) when they get jumped on by their own side after they get caught plagiarizing -- after all, isn't just copying the words of other conservatives simply a sign of being "on point" and exercising party discipline? I mean, geez, if the Right keeps rewarding its young for lock-step conformity of thought, why does it quibble about the sources of the words that its prodigies are spouting as their own?
But anyway, back to Mr. Tucker's question about young Ben's replacement -- what WILL the Left do him or her? (IMHO, probably Google the poor conservative to within an inch of his or her life, because it's what those commie/hippie bastards do. And if the Post hires one of the pundits suggested by Sadly, No!, undoubtedly mock the newbie soundly, as a sign of affection.)
But in any case, I hope the Post vets the new kid thoroughly by testing his or her knowledge of Red Dawn.
Now, on to Scott's summary, which we join already in progress.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Redder Dawn
It’s now October. Patrick, Charlie, and C. Thomas are all heavily accessorized with pine boughs and fern-bedecked headbands (apparently they took time out from the insurrection to appear in the second season of Project Runway). The greenery suggests that these future guerrillas will use their command of wood lore to approach their enemies unseen, although the effect is somewhere between that Japanese soldier on Gilligan’s Island, and an 6-year old going trick or treating as an Ent.
C. Thomas shoots a stag, and Patrick and Charlie haze him by making C. drink its blood. "You gotta do it," Patrick says, handing him a cup full of steaming gore. "Then," Charlie quietly insists, "You’ll be a real hunter." Well, then you’ll be an easily browbeaten moron with a mouthful of blood borne ruminant parasites, but let’s not quibble.
C. chugs it down and grins at them through his blood mustache, and they all exchange manly, plasma-soaked handshakes. Charlie leans in close and confides to C., "My dad said once you do that, there’s gonna be something different about you." Yeah. It’s called Lyme disease. Enjoy.
As the group opens its last can of Campbell’s Chunky Smoked Chicken with Roasted Corn Chowder, they figure, hey, it’s been a month; they really ought to head to town and find out what happened to their families.
As they approach South Park, they are shocked to see people walking around the streets, the stores are open, and unlike Iraq, the town apparently has more than 3 hours of electricity a day. So props, Red Army.
Nevertheless, the townsfolk groan beneath the yoke of cruel oppression. Tanks rumble down Main Street. Alexander Nevsky is showing at the movie house. Russian soldiers stand round a bonfire, burning copies of "Catcher in the Rye" and "The Handmaid’s Tale," assisted by members of the Kansas Board of Education.
Our heroes learn that the Soviets have rounded up local men in violation of the Geneva Convention, and thrown them into a makeshift camp where they rot away without due process, or even access to an attorney. Fortunately the camp is at the drive-in, so the boys can visit their imprisoned families and catch that double feature of Krush Groove and Police Academy 2: Their First Assignment.
The boys are aghast at conditions in the camp, where men are beaten mercilessly during interrogations, and the prisoners live outdoors in a chain link enclosure while a voice drones over the loudspeaker "America is a whorehouse" and propaganda images flash on the screen, interrupted periodically by that "Let’s All Go to the Snack Bar" commercial.
Patrick and Charlie find their father, Harry Dean Stanton, who looks like he’s gotten a bit piggy with the elk blood. He stoically notes that his sons are alive and says, "See? I was tough on you – did things that made you hate me at times," but it was all worth it – the brandings with red hot coat hangers, the floggings with extension cords, the screaming and the pepper spraying – it built character.
Dad sternly orders them never to cry again for the rest of their lives, then shrieks "Avenge me! AVENGE ME!" as they walk off, the boys’ body language seeming to say, "Yeah, we’ll get right on that, Pop."
To Be Continued . . .
2:37:48 AM 
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