You gotta give Motor City Madman and NRA Board Member Ted Nugent credit: the man has a tightly gathered brand. It’s rock and roll > right wing politics > guns. You could play “which one of these things is not like the other,” but Nugent promotes his unholy trinity with such single-minded gusto, it’s all good. Or bad. You know; like Michael Jackson. Mr. Nugent’s rhetoric does get a bit tiresome and predictable after a while. After about five minutes I start hearing the words in my head as if they’re read by that gravel-voiced guy who narrates action movie trailers. About the best that can be said about the Nuge’s style: it’s above parody. Make the jump for a sample of prose rendered by the author of “Kiss my Glock” as he reviews Michael Savage’s new book for the Washington Times.
While relaxing in my deer blind waiting to put an arrow through the pump station of an ultra-alert Texas whitetail deer, I read Mr. Savage’s new book. Instead of my predator eyes scanning the Texas brush for the slightest hint of movement, I found myself focused instead on Mr. Savage’s dead-eye truth and common-sense words. This may have been the very first time in my hunting life that my predator attention was focused completely on something other than grocery shopping for a whitetail deer . . .
At the risk of baiting his friends, I wonder what Mr. Nugent was reading while he was waiting for the not-so-ultra-alert deer to come eat the corn spread on the ground for their dining and death pleasure.
One of my jobs is to cause liberal loons to thrash about in uncontrollable anger. “Trickle Up Poverty” will cause idiots, commies, socialists, Fedzillacrats and various left-wing apologists and assorted bloodsuckers to overheat instantly and then spontaneously combust. Burn, baby, burn.
How’s the pay for that, then? More than antagonizing the NRA I suppose . . .
“Trickle Up Poverty” is intellectual ammunition. Lock and load. Every American who wishes to return to the great American way should read this book and gift it to everybody he cares about.
Unfortunately, even nostalgia ain’t what it used to be.
