The Whole Public Broadcasting Budget Slashing Debate is Actually Quite Simple.

Here's the deal. My fast track, high power career has me behind the wheel for endless hours every week. When I listen to NPR I hear news and information. I hear interviews with film makers, artists, liberal and conservative politicos and commentators. I hear book reviews, I hear movie reviews.

When I turn to Fascist Talk Radio I hear commercials. Commercials for shitty things. Crappy mattresses and crappy little radios and bad, crappy shit. Fake commercials where it sounds like Bill O'Reilly is talking to some dickhead hawking bad crap. But it's fake because he's reading from a script and they match it up later so it sounds real. Boy, is that some shitty lying crap.

I turn back to NPR and I hear hard news. Flip back over to FTR? More commercials for shitty snakeoil crap.

What am I missing? What am I missing?

The only bias I hear on NPR, as far as content, is a bias towards assuming the listener isn't a FUCKING SHILL.

On Fresh Air alone, I've heard great, great interviews with James Brown, Paul McCartney, Michael Penn, Becker and Fagen, Aimee Mann, GENE SIMMONS, BILL O'REILLY, the Wachowskis, Martin Scorsese, Sting, both Clintons, Penn and Teller, Gloria Steinem, a million jazz giants, the Simpson's writers, fucking EVERYBODY. The kind of people I'd hang out with if I wasn't a beautiful, beautiful loser (except for Simmons and O'Reilly- what fucking IDIOTS they were to interview).

I get Talk of the Nation. I get Morning Edition. I get Prairie Home. I get Car Talk. I get AFROPOP WORLDWIDE WITH "GEORGE CULINEE". I get Latino USA. I get motherfucking WORLD CAFE WHICH PRETTY MUCH SHOWED ME WHERE I SHOULD GO AFTER ROCK DIED FOR ME. What do I not get? Um, political shit. I don't get any political shit. And trust me, I'd tell you if I did. I hate that fucking agenda crap.

If I had to listen to 5 minutes of ads playing up THE GOD DAMNED WERMACHT I would still listen. What kind of hysterical, whingeing, asshole FAGGOT DICKHEAD CHRISTER CHILD MOLESTING PUPPY-SHOOTING SPERM-DAQUIRI SWILLIN' (???) DILLHOLE (!!!) would be SO STUPID AND IGNORANT AND INCURIOUS AND UNINTELLECTUAL AND STUPID AND MYOPIC as to think an interview with Scorsese or McCartney isn't a better way to spend the odd tax dollar than springing fucking evil corporateers from well-deserved jail cells and sticking fucking match sticks under enemy combatant's fingernails?

You fucking evil fuckwarts. Sometimes I wish I could just take this whole fucking place over my knee and SPANK THE LIVING SHIT OUT OF IT.

Gonna say it....gonna say it....urgghhhh...gggggaaahhhhh....sssss....ssss..SSSS...S-S-S-SOMETIMES I HATE THIS FUCKING PLACE. AND DON'T GIVE ME THIS LOVE IT OR LEAVE IT SHIT BECAUSE I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL SHOVE THAT DEER ASSAULT RIFLE UP YOUR FUCKING FUNDAMENT. AND PULL TH' TRIGGER. OHHHH......THE INHUMANITY......GLKJROIJOHIGHGALKFJJ;......
OHHH......OHHHHHH.......YOU IDIOT FUCKING NAZI NEOCON FUCKS. GUHHHH.....I CHALLENGE YOU TO A FISTFIGHT. ANYWHERE ANYTIME. HERE'S YER FAGGOT LIBERAL. I WILL WORK YOU LIKE A PORKCHOP AND I WILL GO ALL JUDO ON YOUR ASS. WHAT, THERE'S SIX OF YOU? I DON'T FUCKING CARE. I'M SUPERPISSEDBLACKBELTLIBERALGUNPLAYMAN....I'M YOUR NIGHTMARE LIBERAL...I TALK ABOUT "GETTING IN TOUCH WITH YOURSELF" WHILE I RIP YOUR HEAD OFF AND PISS IN YOUR THROAT. I BOUNCE KITCHEN UTENSILS OFF YOUR SKULL AS I TAKE HUGE, FRAGRANT BONG HITS AND PLAY TH' GODDAMN FLAMING LIPS. in the OCTAGON i shall stalk you. YOU MIGHT WIN BUT YOU KNOW GODDAM WELL I'LL GET A COUPLE OF YOU FUCKS. I'LL GET AN EYE OUT OR MAKE IT SO YOU CAN'T FUCK or TEAR YOUR SACROILIAC or some shit. sOME crap's gonna go down with your shit. Sometimes fire must be met with like. And I swear, yes, SWEAR that I shall be so up in Thy Shiznit that thou verily shan't know from which point of the compass the burning blows fall.

And fall they shall. Yes. Each mightier than the last. Smiting, smiting about the shoulders and buttocks that there shall ARISE IN THE LAND A VOICE MIGHTY, A VOICE MIGHTY AND GOOD. A VOICE FOR GOOD SHALL RISE UP IN THE LAND. IN THE LAND THE VOICE OF GOOD SHALL ARISE. ARISING, IN THE LAND, THE VOICE OF GOOD, WILL. AND IN THE VOICE THERE SHAL

Mff. Some coffee.

Man, that is how you bliggity blog. All swung on coffee and SLAPPIN' that shift key with the RIGHTEOUS conviction that YOU ARE SOMEHOW NOT AN ANAL FISTULA YOURSELF. ssssssssssssssssSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHWWWWWWWWWWWWWWAAAAZZZZZZZZZ.

Ha. That was "shwaz". Nice. What shall we have it mean? "Shwaz". It's yours. Actually, it should probably be "shwazz". That has a nice glam-band-name feel about it.

YES, IN ALL THE YEARS OF YOUR CONVICTION THAT YOU ARE SOMEHOW IMBUED WITH THE "RIGHT" perspective and the "RIGHT" convictions YOU'VE NEVER CONSIDERED THE POSSIBILITY THAT THE ODDS OF THAT ARE 1,000,000,000,00,00,00,00,000,000 TO ONE. Ugly. Ugly. Let's get away from this right now. It's too close to the edge. You know why Yes were wussies? Because they thought being Close To The Edge was cool. No one who has been Close To The Edge is going to write a song called "Close To The Edge". Their song will be like "Totally Livin' Easy" or "Nowhere Near That God Damn Edge" or "The Treatment's Over".

You know who's close to The Edge? Fuckin' Bono, man. And that Adam Clayton.

I used to know Adam in school in New Jersey. He was from Long Island originally. All those guys were from around there. They did the whole Irish thing to get huge and they really pretty much have everybody snowed. It's AWESOME. It makes Kiss look like Nirvana. Hyuck.

Anyway, yeah, those guys were all from there. Actually, they were Southside Johnny's roadies. That's how they met. Fuckin' Bono was coming down with The Jukes to Asbury Park to roadie a show at the Stone Pony and that Edge guy was there from Trenton. He got his nickname because he wore his flares up really, really high and kind of gay and the guys in the band used to call him "Wedgie". "Hey, Wedgie, get me a fuckin' beer," "Hey, Wedgie, tune this guitar."

So it got shortened to "Wedge" and Wedge was like the cool guitar roadie from Trenton. His real name is Phil. Phil Caruso. yeah. And that drummer Larry Mullen Jr. is actually Larry Cullen from Massapeckua whatever.

You guys should hear where "Sting" actually comes from. Let me put it this way; what's smaller than a bee's stinger? Haah?

It's awesome because when they started playing and they thought up the Irish Thing they decided they'd do this whole "honesty" trip. It worked like a fucking champ. God damned U2. Four guys from New Jersey with a dream. Three chords and The Truth. They're like that cousin that you always talk shit about but when you see them you're all nice.

I think it'll be awesome when they pull NPR's funding and we have to pony up a couple more bucks a year. Then we won't have to hear neurotic, ignorant, sibling-fucking neocon Bushlovers bitch and bitch and bitch about it. Then we can have our interviews with intelligent people and artists and those cocks can have their ads for UFO Detectors.

Fuckin' assholes.

What am I missing?