NewsFlash: Coulter Is Our Plant!
Ann Coulter is a liberal plant. And by that, I don’t mean she’s a fern.
I remember attending the meeting of the vast liberal conspiracy (and don’t forget to buy your tickets to the Vast Liberal Conspiracy On Ice, coming soon to the Wachovia Center) and kicking around ideas to make the right-wing types look nuts.
Coulter was there, wearing her Birkenstocks, eating grilled tofu, when she volunteered. I remember it like it was yesterday, she was wearing her Che Gueverra beret, had her hair pulled into a pony tail and was wearing an old jacket with a half dozen buttons, such as "I love cats" and "Honk, if you’re Nuke-Free!" and so on.
Nobody really thought she could pull it off. What she had in mind, we thought, no one would take seriously. It was too over the top — like an aging actress chewing the scenery in a dinner theater performance.
But damned if it didn’t work and work great.
But then, somehow, we lost control of her. I don’t know if it was the drugs, the all-night orgies at the Republican National Committee offices or just the lure of quick money. Somewhere along the line, she started believing the things she said and wrote. Her handlers, despite having lost control of her, were perfectly fine with it — she was much more credible if it seemed like she really bought into all this stuff.
And the cruel leaders of the left-wing cabal just left her there, her soul rotting like Anna Nicole Smith’s remains and the rest of us were sworn to secrecy.
But this latest affair, with her calling John Edwards "a faggot" is nothing more than a plea, really a shriek, for help.
So I can’t hold my tongue any longer.
Come home, Ann honey. We still have your Volvo but maybe we can get you a hybrid. You can get some cats and we’ll get you all the West Wing DVDs. You don’t have to feel so dirty anymore. Come home, some of us still care.
We hate to see you like this.