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Newt Gingrich's Inner Redneck Appears:
There wasn't a safe goat ass anywhere in eastern South Carolina last night. After the Republican presidential debate in Myrtle Beach, the whooping, hooting, cheering white people, whipped into a frenzied state by the race-baiting rhetoric of Newt Gingrich, headed out to the backyards and barns of the Gamecock state to take out their throbbing desires on goats, fucking the goats from behind, getting ass-reamed by the goats, the women glazed by goat semen, the men plastered with goat shit on their dicks, none of them caring because, with Newt leading them against that uppity nigger, Juan Williams, the evening's surrogate Obama, the South would rise again, so they may as well do what they do best: wallow around naked in a mud pit, coated with goat feces and cum, staring up at the stars, remembering the glory of the evening they had witnessed, the confused goat, feeling both satisfied and violated, heading into a corner to sleep.

The Fox "news"/Wall Street Journal/Murdoch's Taint debate was only notable because of the moment when Newt Gingrich decided to double down on the racism on Martin Luther King Day when questioned by Juan Williams about his remarks on black youths and food stamps, as well as his call for poor kids to become janitors at their high school. When Gingrich refused to modify or sugarcoat what he had said, the audience at the Myrtle Beach Convention Center exploded.

Of course they did. There was a group of crackers, having been forced to go through an entire day hearing about how a great black man fought for the rights of black people so that now, not only do you have to share water fountains with 'em, but you can't even call 'em "boy" at work without someone getting all upset, and, besides, what are you gonna do with all these unburned crosses? And once the cork was off the crowd, it turned viciously on Williams, booing him loudly when he attempted to get Gingrich to explain because "It sounds as if you are seeking to belittle [poor and nonwhite] people."

Watch the video of the event. You can pinpoint the moment that Gingrich saw that he had the audience eating out of his hand like trained pigs lining up at the garbage trough. His hand movements get more forceful. His voice rises. He is surfing the wave of adoration like a California teenager on his board, hitting that sweet spot in the barrel. And he just goes to town with the lies: "[T]he fact is that more people have been put on food stamps by Barack Obama than any president in American history." (Not a fact at all. In fact, it was George W. Bush who is responsible for more people getting on food stamps; oh, and isn't that a good thing so that kids can eat?) "There’s — the area that ought to be I-73 was called by Barack Obama 'a corridor of shame' because of unemployment." (Nope. The "Corridor of Shame" is because of the condition of the rural schools in the area. Oh, and Obama didn't name it that; the people from there did. Oh, and it's along I-95.)

But who the fuck cares if Newt Gingrich is a venal, lying shitsack, an angry hippopotamus destroying anything it can and dragging the half-dead into the river to drown? The audience lapped it up as he jacked off in their faces, using his dick to slap the black guy who dared to question the rightness of his Newtness. He is a walking, talking infection, and every time we think we've gotten rid of him, he comes back stronger and more resistant to the drugs that can kill him.

However, big thanks to the people of South Carolina for revealing, as ever, that racist pricks will always and forever be racist pricks and that redneck assholes will always be easily manipulated into thinking that the rich motherfucker up on stage who calls out the "elitists" is one of them.

(Fun true story: Myrtle Beach is cracker vacation paradise. As the man who was repairing his air conditioner once told the Rude Pundit while living in Tennessee, he loved going to Myrtle Beach because he could drive his pick-up truck on the beach. "It don't get no better than that," he said. Having never driven a pick-up on a beach, the Rude Pundit could neither agree nor disagree.)

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