A Satire upon this drivel in the American Thinker.
All dinner parties are subject to anecdote,
Wherein Liberal Fools must play the goat:
This Fucknose found, who, like Bromley, dumb,
Was call'd to tell his lib'rul family, young,
That their Brooklyn life was awful, squalid,
Stupid, shallow, not remotely valid:
Did they not know they made six figures?
The scene is set, & the action jiggered:
Mac Fucknose, now, he'll describe a meal
Wherein his grasp of family discourse ideal
Is wonderfully revealed: this total tit
Spews a mirthful font of wingnut bullshit:
"I know this couple, this Donna and Frank,
Who live in BROOKLYN, NY, & not swank.
They make SIX FIGURES, which in Brooklyn gets
A flat with roaches, hoboes, and no pets.
In BROOKLYN there live hipsters, artsy blokes,
Druggies you just can't find out in Suffolk.
My idea of Brooklyn does not go to and fro,
And fine ladies still talk of Serpico.
I had these two up to my Thanksgiving
Over the gravy I did plan a shivving.
I did! I did, most surely seek to dare
To bait these rubes as to Obamacare.
Cover the unemployed? It stands to reason --
This thinking is but the darkest treason!
I put my dogs of Malkin upon 'em,
I did not remotely act like Gollum.
I knew I need do naught but calmly race-bait,
And then I'd win, I'd win the whole debate!
Odd, though, my win, nobody thinks will stick.
Why must these cowards still call me a dick?
Truth? Even my wife says I'm an asshole,
But she's not read Ayn Rand -- her case? Facile.
After all, during our family meal I WON.
I WON the debate. Holy shit, I'm FUN."
Mac Fucknose then sat, and pondered his art,
Which, as Dryden explained, meant the dumb fucker farted HA FUCK THAT FUCKER.