I don’t claim it’s anything other than one of the meaner motives, but UD has always adored encountering flatout fulminating hypocrisy. This can’t involve just being – I dunno – silent, passive, and inert in regard to living a life obscenely at odds with your professed foundational values. The hypocrisy I adore announces itself – boldly, loudly, shamelessly, crazily, rambunctiously, crashingly, self-pleasuringly.
Take a look at this blog’s thick hypocrisy file – much but not all of it centering on the noisy superChristian superpiety of superperverted college sports coaches and Liberty University presidents – to share in the perennial delight of truly fa rumore hyperhypocrisy.
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And now we have a new category: Supreme Hypocrisy. Private jet and private yacht enthusiast Clarence Thomas shares this about himself:
“I prefer the RV parks. I prefer the Walmart parking lots to the beaches and things like that. There’s something normal to me about it. … I come from regular stock, and I prefer that — I prefer being around that.”
Who among us wouldn’t? I don’t know anyone who, given a choice between standing in a Walmart parking lot and lying on a beach in Bora Bora would choose abnormal Bora Bora. I mean, yech! Yech! (I’m spitting something nasty out of my mouth.) YECH.
Ah. That’s better. Where’s the fucking parking lot? I want to walk among the RVs…
I have decided to follow RVs
I have decided to follow RVs
I have decided to follow RVs
No turning back…
Let me lie in full sunlight on asphalt, Lord
With the strains of 2 Live Crew
With the souped up engines of blessed Rams
I prefer being around that