Blast From the Past - Rudeness From 1994:
As the Rude Pundit is in Red State America visiting with the Rude Family, he's decided to do something a little different for the next couple of days. To wit:

Back in the early 1990s, the Rude Pundit, in his pre-bloggy life, ran a weekly radio broadcast in Tennessee called Radio Free Theatre. A mixture of politics, plays, and interviews, it was free-form, fuckin' fun, and a cult favorite for fans of the station (shout-out to the Knox Vegas homeez). Once a month, the Rude Pundit would feature a take-off on everyone's favorite porcine bloviator called The Rich Flemball Show. The premise was this: Rich Flemball would read monologues, written by the Rude Pundit, and then take calls, occasionally abusing and threatening to rape his board operator, Lumbago. Some of the calls were set-ups and some were real people obviously projecting their deep hatred for the real ball of phlegm, Rush Limbaugh, onto our Flemball.

So for a few days here, the Rude Pundit is going to post a couple of these monologues. "Why?" you may ask, and perhaps you should. Well, shit, the Rude Pundit could use a little time to re-boot from the steady drumbeat of Iraqi death and Bush administration corruption. And also to remember just how long the conservative right has been vile and depraved. And as a service to the young people reading ('cause, really, it's all about the children): don't listen to those fuckers who have given up and say that you get more conservative when you get older. Bullshit. You gotta keep stokin' that fire. It won't die as long as you're payin' attention.

First up is a little thing from when General Raoul Cedras took over Haiti in a military coup back in 1991. Bill Clinton decided that the U.S. military oughta be involved in restoring the country to its democratically-elected government. Clinton's reasoning was a secure Haiti was important to American security, and, of course, because it was Clinton, the right wing angrily denounced the action. Oh, how innocent we were then...

Here's what Rich Flemball had to say about it (and it helps if you can force yourself to think about Limbaugh's voice when that fat fuck was really fat):

It's time for a Haiti update.

That's right folks. We're only a few short days from the date General Raoul Cedras agreed to give up power and allow President Jean-Bertrand Artistide back in power in Haiti. So far the only US military deaths have been attributed to suicide. As listeners to this show may realize, I have definite problems with this so-called peacekeeping mission to Haiti, which is really an invasion and occupation by the United Nations. Now, you do-gooders might whine and complain, "But, Rich, is it not our responsibility to support democracy and overcome tryranny wherever it happens? Why do the conservatives, who were so gung-ho for other military actions against dictators under George Bush, now decry supporting this President when he takes a stand for the freedoms of people living in this hemisphere?" Well, boo-hoo-hoo.

The differences here are obvious. In the good old days, we were fighting communism because . . . well . . . because they were communists -- yeah -- and we didn't like communists. Hell, we still don't like communists. No, sir. Except when they send us lots of money, like China. But, yeah, communists are anti-American, and will destroy the American way of life, except, you know, for China, which makes our big companies a bundle of money. Which is good for America. Yeah, that's right. Chinese communism is good for America, but communism anywhere else is bad, it's wrong. Unless we can make money. Other than that -- no, we don't like communists. Because . . . they are . . .uh . . . communists.

Lumbago, what the hell am I talking about? (Pause) Oh, yeah, Haiti.

I'll tell you why we shouldn't be in Haiti. Because of all that voodoo down there. It's just crawling with Satan-loving doll-piercing darkies who don't care one whit for what Uncle Sam might be doing for them. You know those two suicides? Voodoo. Pure and simple. Do you doubt me? I have seen voodoo rituals for myself, and I have re-enacted them in my luxurious condo in the Dominican Republic, right next door to Haiti.

I had a party once with Dan Quayle, Jeanne Kirkpatrick, Pat Robertson, and Mary Matalin, and Quayle, he made a joke about all the Indians in the next country. And all of us just laughed. And he gave that great dopey look he gets when he's kidding around and said, "You mean this isn't India?" And we all laughed more and more. And he just snickered and said, "Well, I can never tell the difference between anyone whose skin isn't white." Which, when you think about it, makes him color blind, and isn't that how we want our politicians.

And Jeanne Kirkpatrick said, "Rich, have you ever seen a voodoo ritual?"

And I said, "Of course I have, Jeanne."

Then Mary Matalin dared me to re-create it right there and then. So I asked them all, "Are you willing to go into the dark side of your souls," and Pat Robertson actually smiled and agreed.

So the first thing we did was -- well, we all got pantsless. Lemme demonstrate. Here we go. Me, Dan, Pat, Mary and Jean. (Sound of Flemball as he takes off his pants.) There. I'm pantsless.

And we all danced around the fire. Well, I didn't want to start a fire, so I just lit up the barbecue pit. And we went out onto the patio and danced pantsless around the light of the coal, yelling, "Boolah-boolah-boolah," which isn't exactly what the real worshippers say, but, hell, it all sounds like "Boolah-boolah-boolah" to me. And we beat on pots and pans to make the ungodly rhythms of the Devil. Hey, Lumbago, beat on something for me. (Lumbago starts a beat) So then it was time for the chicken sacrifce, but I didn't have a live chicken, so I just took some chicken pieces out of the refrigerator and we rubbed them all over ourselves, yelling, "Boolah-boolah-boolah" to each other. "Boolah-boolah-boolah, Dan" "Boolah-boolah-boolah, Reverend Pat."

And to make it more authentic, we needed chicken blood, but we didn't have anything but barbecue sauce so we all got bowls of barbecue sauce and dipped the chicken parts in and rubbed them all over each other, getting all sticky and sweaty, yelling, "Boolah-boolah-boolah" under the tropical night sky. And it may not have been real voodoo, but when we finally grilled that chicken, it tasted better than any grilled chicked we had ever had.

It was something magical, as if pagan gods had said "We bless the barbecue of Flemball." You should see what Mary Matalin can do with a chicken leg. And when we all laid down on the lawn, naked, sticky, with chicken bones all around us, Reverend Pat said a soft prayer to be forgiven for dwelling in evil ways just before he licked the sauce off Jeanne Kirkpatrick.

We never spoke again about that evening.

So I know the temptations and power of voodoo first hand. It should not be messed with. There are powers beyond our control, even beyond the control of me, Rich Flemball.

President Clinton, bring our boys home.

And that's our Haiti update. We'll be right back.