DREGULATOR, 2006 VOL. V #4

One of the most fascinating things about celebrities and world leaders alike is their common propensity to overindulge themselves in certain perversities.
Charlie Sheen, for example, feels completely entitled to a steady diet of hookers, despite efforts to fix his marriage. Dick Cheney seems to have a kooky yen for inflicting gunshot wounds. Cher’s appetite for face-lifts has given her face unnatural creases, like her head was placed in the refrigerator to congeal and now bears the contours of the saran wrap that covered it. The list goes on and on.
Enquirer readers feel a gnawing desire for dead blondes – they can’t get enough Natalee footage now, much as they once craved bad news about Elizabeth Smart or re-hashings of tragic JonBenet. They also like suicidal blondes, in the form of deeply unflattering photos of Courtney Love or Tara Reid, because they are altogether too screwed-up, according to the dictates of the mass cultural psyche, to be famous. Courtney and Tara therefore fulfill the important role of being our societal whipping-blondes, so that all Enquirer readers can feel superior to them, while still being morbidly obese.
Karen Hughes, the cobra-like Under Secretary of State for Public Diplomacy, has an insatiable need for spin ( a show of hands: how many Dregulator readers know that “Propaganda” was officially renamed “Public Diplomacy” in the 1950’s, to avoid the hefty stink of Soviet-style PR-cleansing?[parenthetical within parenthetical: See what a late-night addiction to Googling Under the Influence will get you, besides arrested?]). Hughes told TIME some interesting things, while on their “10 Questions” hot-seat, especially concerning her being widely hated by Saudi women, during her Middle East tour last year:
“When I was in Saudi Arabia, women there kept saying, ‘Your media said this, your media said that.’ I finally realized they were talking about an Oprah Winfrey show about domestic violence in Saudi Arabia. Because they don’t understand the independence of our media, they thought I put Oprah Winfrey up to that.”
Let us admire and praise how Karen Hughes artfully and strategically positions herself , in this statement, as somehow miraculously capable of sculpting Oprah’s opinion, in anyone’s opinion, while also somehow simultaneously blaming her lack of popularity on Oprah. One must admire the evil brilliance of this Hamill-Camel of a spin. (Karen Hughes was actually put up to that preposterous statement by The Dregulator, for our own amusement. Thanks, K-Hugs.)
The NRA is addicted to protecting your right to shoot your co-workers. According to TIME, the NRA has encountering a little trouble from Big Business while trying to get an innocent law passed in Florida, which would guarantee your right to take your gun to work – even though, technically, you would have to leave the gun in your car, where it’s perfectly safe. “Uncooperative employers would be hit with felony charges.” Now, when it’s illegal to prevent your employees from having guns on your own company premises, you know you’ve got Freedom, American-style. Would John Wayne prevent people from having guns in their glove compartments, if he ran a Miami parking garage? I don’t think so. It would be un-American, and the Commie pinko so-and-so’s who resent murderous employee resentment should invest in a little Kevlar or face prison time. End of story. I like it. It smells like….victory. Or maybe long-pig, the cannibal-pork. Or maybe….chicken.
And lastly, a word of hope from former Comedy Central superstar Dave Chapelle, who is quoted in Newsweek explaining why he walked out of his $50m contract:
“I felt like some kind of prostitute or something.”
My Fiends, if self-professed ex-cooz-hound Dave Chapelle can swear off ho’s, then so can you. His higher power was Allah, and bully for him.
Just don’t get a bomb in your bonnet, like that pesky cartoon. At least until the NRA makes it legal.