Here's some highlights of his most recent missive entitled, "Getting It Off My Chest (or Channeling Andy Rooney On Peyote)"
I hate these fucks, with their secret agendas and insatiable thirsts to control all the energy and all the money and all the people. I loathe them for not being able to cope with inadequate genitalia. If I can, you can! Jesus, get over it!
My take-away from that paragraph is that Steven Weber will never be doing a 'full frontal' scene. Personally, I'm relieved, and not at all disappointed.
It's strange to me how it's all come to this. It would be as if the affable owner of a general store where everyone in the neighborhood bought their goods and sundries, this guy who knew you by your first name and patted kids on the head and didn't crap a flat tire if you needed some credit, all of a sudden felt that it was utter anathema to have such a calling and shifted from avuncular to nucular overnight, charging exorbitant fees for bubble gum and isopropyl alcohol and taking it upon himself to torch the competing establishment a block away. And then somehow blame his customers for it.
My take-away from that paragraph is, 'Huhh?!?'. It's really like that? I'd buy myself some land in Costa Rica, stock it with Bond-Villain style concubine/bodyguards and leave Ameruhkkka to the fundanutters if I believed as Steven Weber seems to believe.
And why are all the assholes in charge? Why do they have all the guns and conscripted armies and get to go to summits and fund weapons research? How about developing a music gun? Or a fruit bomb? Drop some fucking fruit bombs on pissed off radicals and get 'em all hopped up on vitamin c and anti-oxidents or whatever the hell and just call it a day? And if the douchebags really want to they can wear crowns or sashes or tiny flag lapel pins if it makes 'em feel like big men.
In the Weberverse, the draft is clearly still on, and aging passive-aggressive comedic character actors have the highest lottery numbers. Uncle Jam wants you Steven Weber, he wants you to Funk With Him.
I realise Weber is low hanging fruit (or given his inadequate genitalia, not so low hanging), but sometimes it's fun to examine just what is coming out of the fevered swamp of 'progressive-land'.
If somehow the Democrats keep hold the legislative and win the executive branch of government in 2008, I can gaurantee I'll have some pointed comments to make about the legislation they're likely to pass, but I can't imagine every spewing this sort of sputtery nonsense, or display a hatred towards the people that elected them.
This is mainly here as a reminder to all those in "fly-over" land, that the folks that surround me in La-La Land and work in the Dream Factory really hate you, deeply, passionately, and would ignore you completely if they didn't want your money so damn bad. If films that only played on the coasts could gross $250M instead of struggling to make $5M then you'd never see a 'crowd-pleasing' blockbuster again. But they'll sneak as much America-hating rhetoric into the margins of those films as they can get away with. Ex-military always have PTSD and are a little too gun crazy. There's always corruption at the top. Hot chicks always work for 'progressive' causes. And it's always about THE OIL.
They can't comprehend why all you 'non-coastals' haven't embraced every 'progressive' position and whim over the past few decades (they've implanted those concepts in every conceivable media, yet you still resist, why?), and they really can't understand how you could find Jeff Foxworthy entertaining (OK, I'm with my La-La brethren on that one, but that doesn't mean I hate y'all).
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