So anyone who knows me, knows that I am a big fan of Glenn Beck. That being said, this article ripping him to pieces made me laugh. Even the biggest fan of his has to admit, some of this stuff strikes a bit of truth.
The
Christmas Sweater is Glenn Beck's one-man play simulcast across the
nation to an audience of literally dozens. My mom's friend's
hairdresser's brother saw it, and his eye cancer was cured, which he
didn't even know he had!
Theoretical states of Glenn Beck include: plasma, svelte, and decent human being.
- The Christmas sweater is a "true" story about reanimated corpses.
- On opening night, 34 people attended this film in New York and Boston COMBINED.
- Glenn Beck can weep on command, but if you want him to cry convincingly, that'll be an extra $20.
- He spent most of his career as a morning zoo radio DJ, so he was somehow more annoying at one point.
- Wacky zoo crew DJs are failed stand-up comedians.
- In June of 2009, Beck embarked on a stand-up comedy tour.
- He
has compared himself to "Network"'s Howard Beale, George Orwell, and
Martin Luther King, the almost-imperceptible difference being those men
cared about the liberation of other human beings and weren't
gold-digging whores.
There are three basic responses to fear: fight, flight, and losing your shit. Glenn Beck embodies all of them.
For much of the Bush years, official Fox-brand conservatives
controlled all three branches of federal government. This made them
very angry, so their mouthpiece was blustery Bill O'Reilly. The day
Obama got elected, Fox completely lost its mind. "Oh noes!" the Fox
staff shrieked, as they fearfully scanned the sky for falling pieces,
"Oh goodness gracious graham crackers!"
A new voice needed to be heard: one that leapt crazily from
constipated groans to the bleating of a pulled groin muscle. That
groin...was Glenn Beck's.
"Here's what a civil war would fix if our military decided to stage a coup
and take back our country, not that I'm advocating that or anything."
He is the vanguard of a new conservatism, as soon as someone figures
out what it is. Gone is the clear mission statement of Bush and Cheney
("Fuck you, do what we say"). Beck represents a populace that cheers
Sarah Palin for word-blasting "America democracy olive garden freedom"
whenever she doesn't know the answer to a question.
There are great arguments for conservative principles not being made
because a sentient cloud of connotations like Beck just slaps together
every buzzword that makes people feel patriotic. He's the Thomas
Kinkade of political commentary.
And Kinkade, in turn, is the KFC Famous Bowl of painting.
Beck lathers himself up over the loss of the good old days when
Russia was a radar blip from nuking us, hot dogs only cost a smile,
black people weren't sensitive about mistreatment, and everyone felt as great as they did the day after 9/11.
The next time you feel like a jerk, do a quick check: Have you invoked
the specter of 3000 dead human beings to boost your audience? No? Then
you have more class than Glenn Beck, and possibly more class than a
syphilis-scabbed ballsack.
The
lone hinge on which Beck's door marked "WHARGARBBL / WAHHH" swings is
his unparalleled love of country. He's sorry, it's just...you have to
understand, America is like a beautiful woman he swoons over with no
thought of himself, and the socialist warlocks in Washington are like
Ted Bundy if he were a less attentive lover.
Too bad he's able to perform every night.
All that energy has to go somewhere, and that's when Beck unloads white-hot speculation on America's unsuspecting face.
Does out-of-mint currency prophesize America's century-long march towards fascism? You bet. Is it actually fascism we're marching towards, or socialism? Stay tuned. Is Cash for Clunkers an excuse for the government to spy on your computer? Beck and a pretty face with nothing to contribute would love to tell you all about it right after Jonah Goldberg throws twerpy "quotes" around whether the wildly successful program is "working." (Hint: Yes, you specious "urethra.")
And so on. The difference between a Glenn Beck conspiracy and the coronation scene in Carrie is Carrie didn't overreact as hysterically:
Also, there was far less menstruation.
Beck decimates any dialogue between the valid sides of the debate.
He also damages his own conservative and libertarian stances by
under-representing their case in favor of misleading pieces like this:
Did you notice the part where he claimed
no one was comparing health care reform to Nazism? Probably not,
because it was buried between two chunks of emotional oatmeal comparing
health care reform to Nazism.
But he's right about the conspiracies out there. Like the TV personality who pushed and promoted gold like it was crack while under contract with Goldline International! We must hound such conflicted interests within the media wherev--huh? Oh, it was Beck himself? Carry on, then.
Inordinate love of gold, international plot, inability to feel anything...
when he claims he's not a journalist, we didn't realize that meant he's a Bond villain
After cobbling together conspiracies whose sheer unreality can cure
schizophrenia, he is known for making himself cry. And oh, does he make
himself cry. After the crescendo of paranoia, Beck approaches catharsis
the way Tammy Faye Baker approached makeup.
It'd be one thing if he were just a crybaby. That would be fine. But he's a fake
crybaby. He gets his money pretending to feel things and selling it as
genuine to people who really do feel those things. His tears, his
outrage, his paranoia...it's all fake. He's no better than one of those
mourners you hire for an Italian funeral, or worse, Staind.
Once he got that emotional manipulation thing down, Beck went for
the easy lay-up Fox talking heads annually use to inflame the public:
Christmas.
"Who's got a dollar? Give Uncle Glenn a dollar and he'll show you an emotion!
C'mon, one of you kids must have a dollar!"
The Christmas Sweater was originally released in 2008 despite the best efforts of Homeland Security. In 2009, The Christmas Sweater: A Return to Redemption
simulcast a repeat viewing of the 2008 performance, with the addition
of watching Glenn Beck watching Glenn Beck. And of course, being Glenn
Beck, he drops crocodile tears 15 seconds into the broadcast.
The gist of the tale is an orphan named Eddie curses an unloving God
who stole his parents as punishment for being a horrible child.
Originally, I thought God took them because they ignored His command in
Deuteronomy 21:18-21 to stone disobedient children, but redemption is
part of the true meaning of Christmas. It's also why Deuteronomicon is
such a lousy holiday.
God, realizing He has authored his own nemesis, sends a terrible storm
to kill Eddie before the boy embraces his power as the anti-Christ.
Wait, no, we've lost the narrative thread. Eddie's mom gives him a
sweater she knitted herself even though really wanted a bike. Eddie
acts like a brat about it, so boy, is he embarrassed when Mom falls
asleep at the wheel, killing herself and any chance of getting a bike
for Christmas. Joke's on you, Eddie! You should have seen the look on
your face when your mom's carotid artery spewed a furious fountain all
over the front seat, subsided to mere spurts, and the heat of life left
her body forever! Hoo hah! I bet you learned your lesson then.
Our Lord is a vengeful, loving Lord.
Eddie goes to live with his grandparents, who rub salt in his
orphan's wounds by showing him the bike they wanted to give him if he
hadn't been so upset about not getting a bike. Eddie is plainly living with cruel psychologist Harry Harlow.
The poor kid flees into a cornfield, possibly in an attempt to get
out of a Glenn Beck story. Alas, there, like Moby Dick seizing Ahab,
the storm comes to claim its due. Fortunately(?) folksy country
character Russell shows up, and rather than help the lost child home,
tells him to press through and everything will work itself out. Either
Russell hopped the fourth wall to get there and is aware the
devastating storm is a harmless metaphor, or Eddie's grandfather paid
him to help finish the kid off, because that's terrible advice.
Off they go, into the storm, at which point they die. Or something,
because that's when Eddie wakes up at home, and his mom is alive! But
is it a horrible, undead state? The film's final moments leave us
wondering, cutting to outside the house as Eddie's shriek curdles the
blood. Either way, God has His revenge, killing a woman and bringing
her back simply to teach a child a lesson.
Our Lord has been dipping into the eggnog.
The Christmas Sweater attempts to define the true spirit of
Christmas: love, rather than materialism -- but it's the love of a
horny polar bear who catches you just before you reach the safety of
Santa's workshop. Like all the best cults, it softens you up first with
tedium and repetition, then BAM! you've been
emotionally reamed by Beck's tale of two dead parents and a weather
phenomenon that advises lost children to plunge deeper into it. That's
when Beck (who charges $20 a head) explains why money's not important
and if you'd bought his book you would know that already.
The true meaning of Christmas
Still, "Treasure people, not things," is a good message that Beck
has to work very hard to twist into something as wrong as mayonnaise on
a sundae. Promotional materials for The Christmas Sweater, a
story which raises the dead, have made much of the fact that it's
"true" and "real." Of course, none of that happened except possibly the
author received a sweater from his mom for Christmas. That's like
saying A Midsummer Night's Dream is historical because Shakespeare knew a guy who acted like a jackass (presumably an ancestor of Beck's).
It was this or a picture of a faerie wedding.
He also interviews several people whose lives he claims to have
saved with his book. If the only thing keeping you from suicide is a
turgid story about characters react to threatening symbols exactly as
though they know they're mere symbols, I hope you enjoy Scrabble
Sundays down at the Knights of Columbus hall, because that's about as
crrrrrazy an existence as you're going to be able to withstand.
The life-affirming message is just one more thing for Beck to get
choked up about. He's a sensitive guy, concerned with the rights of
all. Except pregnant women. Here he is on the radio making fun of a woman for having a miscarriage.
And coming this July: Glenn Beck's THE INDEPENDENCE DAY SWEATER
Oh, it happened. A reporter asked President Obama for his opinion about the arrest of a Harvard professor of his acquaintance. It was this:
"Now, I've - I don't know, not
having been there and not seeing all the facts, what role race played
in that. But I think it's fair to say, number one, any of us would be
pretty angry; number two, that the Cambridge police acted stupidly in
arresting somebody when there was already proof that they were in their
own home. And number three, what I think we know separate and apart
from this incident is that there is a long history in this country of
African-Americans and Latinos being stopped by law enforcement
disproportionately. That's just a fact."
Anybody normal would call that a fairly reasonable statement, though
most would agree it's a weak argument to call shenanigans while saying
you don't know all the facts. After all, it's horrendous to arrest an
innocent man, but our society can certainly understand the urge to
imprison a lawyer.
A lawyer in his natural habitat
Was Obama arguing from a semi-uninformed position on the facts? Beck leaps right past that and decides it's a racist indictment of all white culture, except, obviously, polka.
White culture has certainly given us some awesome stuff, like
cardiac surgery, peanut butter, rock 'n' roll, and the works of James
Baldwin. Wait...sorry, I'm thinking of things black people invented
that white people got rich off of. But I'm pretty sure we're behind
cheeseburgers and St. Patrick's Day, so there's that.
Beck, who makes up conspiracies for a living, criticized Obama for speculating. What? The Bre'r Fox & Friends brain trust spent six minutes speculating "Of course Obama's racist, but exactly HOW racist is he?" while citing fictitious "reports," but Obama's the racist for saying you shouldn't arrest a dude whose door was broken?
Okay, Fox, we get it. If the president commented it was a nice day,
you'd shriek the heavens were raining blood. But arguing the cops
should arrest a guy who was legally entering his private property makes
you, Glenn Beck, a crappy libertarian. You just failed at being an
unrealistic ideologue, even though that's the only personality you have.
But here's where America is awesome while Glenn Beck sucks koala
teat. The Henry Louis Gates incident was a whole lot of racially
sensitive "Wuh-oh" nobody -- the professor, the policeman, the
president -- wanted to be part of. So you know how the three men
resolved it? Rather than try to figure out who was right or wrong, they
dropped the matter and had a beer.
Is this a great country or what?
Gates and Sgt. Crowley agreed to make things better, not worse, by
getting sauced with the President of the United States. The best part
is, before the cameras even came out, the two men made plans to share a
meal.
That's how reasonable human beings act.
They forgave and forgot once they'd cooled off. The lesson is the universal power of "Sorry. Let me get you a beer."
Unfortunately, there are people out there -- on both sides -- who
make their living dividing America. Glenn Beck is one of them, but you
couldn't buy him a beer anyway. He's a Mormon alcoholic, minus the one
quality that makes both groups terrific: treating strangers like their
best friends.
The primary difference between Beck and O'Reilly in their reigns as
King of Fox Bullshit is at least O'Reilly's a sincere blowhard. His
audience is comprised of men with gout who think they're the only ones
who know how the world works. And that's fine. Every
population has its demagogue. Liberals have Michael Moore, douchebags
have Dane Cook, and people who believe in evolution have Satan.
"Excellent. Now to invent heavy metal,
convince people God wants them to kill,
and get Carlos Mencia his own show."
But Beck's insincerity makes him
dissimilar from his audience. He panders to the vulnerable emotions of
people who believe in mom, country and apple pie, then tells them Obama
is a secret atheist Muslim ninja who has orders from Stalin's Ghost to nuke orphanages
unless they buy Beck's book. It's like he's found a way to
passive-aggressively mug our grandparents and make them thank him for
it.
That's the saddest thing about him. You can't even form a real
reaction to him; Limbaugh's a blowhard, Stern's a tool, but Beck is a
complete cipher. Like most successful prostitutes, he'll be anyone you
want if the price is right.
America's a great country. We've made some mistakes (slavery, Prohibition, canceling Veronica Mars)
but we've achieved the impossible (We split the atom! We went to the
moon! The Red Sox won the World Series!) We've survived a lot, and
we'll survive a lot more, including pied pipers like Glenn Beck.
Meanwhile, the rest of us will be sitting by the bar, waiting for him
to join us.
Brendan McGinley is the writer of "Hannibal Goes to Rome" and some other kick-ass stuff. All he wants for Christmas is you.
|