Olbamamann and the Two Minute Hate
Know how you can tell Olbamamann’s crazier than a shithouse rat? Because he only poses these tedious, self-regarding, and clause-laden questions —Germanically long and so leading that you’d have to hire a lawyer to object to them all— in which he pretty much gets the answer he was looking for: the one that echoes his own. And along the way of these huge bursts of rhetorical slurry are inferences and associations and outright lies, linking any two or more of his enemies on that day in any sort of libtard-Leftist strokefest he wants. Such spluttering extravagance of what must pass for thought with him is a sure sign of mental decay.
Moreover, there’s no question, if you’ll simply look, that Olbamamann’s head occupies more of the screen than any other propagandist on TV. This isn’t an ad hominem point to make, but to point out that he has this done deliberately because it’s all part of his performance artist’s homage to Big Brother and the Two Minute Hate. He’s an utter moran. I hope some day to hear the low-down on what Russert thought of this clown. I’ll bet Russert thought he was an asshole.
