But I was shocked to discover, through Atrios, that my own little plot of ground had something to do with the unpleasantness. Indeed, in an increasingly lame attempt to seem hip, the Bush girls apparently had their own inaugural ball/party/concert last night. See! They're modern! They're popular! They're going to work with orphans in Harlem! Or, you know, maybe they'll just keep getting drunk in public and elbowing their way into hip Manhattan eateries.
On November 3, 2004, I received an e-mail from Michael Moore entitled something like "Seventeen Reasons Not to Slit Your Wrists." I remember few of them, but one I do recall was "We love the Bush girls. Admit it." Ummmm.... no. I don't actually love them, being a straight woman and so immune to their charms. I find them deeply stupid and smug, feeding off evil. Sorry, Mike. Men may be able to forgive them and their brainless shilling on the off chance that one of the girls (apparently only one, though it's reportedly not that difficult ) will fuck them someday, but that's no inducement for me.
The main press this concert has received involves the Kid Rock kafuffle: apparently, if you write a song in which you consider, then reject as lame, pimping out a guy's mom (or some twins' grandma), it will not necessarily keep you from getting invited to perform at the inaugural. It might, however, get you uninvited when the 'rents or the Christian Right gets wind of it. I guess I'll have to wait for Jeb's inaugural to see Donald Wildmon dancing with Kid Rock's porn-star girlfriend.
So who did appear at this noble and family friendly event? Hillary Duff. Ruben Stoddard. And some cand called Boxkar, whose lack of spelling skills shows you just how cool they are ("Look! Just like the Beatles!"). I have no need to trash them: TBogg's done a fine job.
Can these artists rock?
Not fucking likely.
Here is what Boxkar has to say about itself on their own website:
Their songs have an appeal and realness of a Matchbox Twenty with a swagger of an Aerosmith.
Wanting to have the "appeal and realness" of Matchbox Twenty is like wanting to be funny like Bob Saget. After the inauguration I suggest a new name: A Flock of Wankers.
See, with TBogg around, I have no need for snark. But a quick check of the major news outlets reveals no reports about how the show actually went. I'll keep looking and update if necessary.
Hooo-boy. No news outlets appear to want to discuss it. But here's what Chuimpy McButwiggle said, according to the White House:
Listen, I want to thank all the entertainers who were here today. How about Hilary Duff. She was fantastic. (Applause.) Thank you, Hilary. JoJo -- JoJo is here -- yeah. (Applause.) Rubin Studdard -- you talk about a success story. (Applause.) Ryan Cabrera, I appreciate Ryan being here. (Applause.) How about Three Doors Down? (Applause.) Pretty cool guys, right? Seem cool to me. (Applause.) Fuel -- I appreciate Fuel being here. (Applause.) Jason Sehorn -- I'm honored that my friend, Jason -- and I'm really proud and pleased that he brought his wife, Angie Harmon. (Applause.)
I want to thank Steve Baldwin for being with us today. I'm honored that Steve was here. Erika Harold, Miss America 2003 -- what a fine person Erika is. (Applause.) How about Kelly Purdue, the "apprentice." (Applause.) Next thing you know, the guy will be running for President. (Applause.) Nancy O'Dell -- I'm honored that Nancy is with us. I appreciate you all coming.
But my fave, hands down:
And my call to you all is that as you enjoy the great freedoms of America, and as you enjoy yourself at this inauguration, I hope you take away the lesson of helping somebody in need. And when you do, it will not only make our country a better place, it will lift up your own spirit.
Didja ever see the movie Bedazzled? Not the crappy Brendan Frazer version (though I love him, usually), but the 1968 version with Dudley Moore and Peter Cook, the one that actually discusses theology. In it, Satan has a deal with God that if he gets to one hundred billion souls first, he gets back into heaven. So he does, and even restores Stanley Moon's soul as a good deed. But as St. Peter points out, doing a good deed to make yourself feel better is doing the right thing for the wrong reason. Take that, Chimpy.
And thank you, thank you, thank you to Holden, whose obsession with the gaggle always makes me giggle before I gag!