[ed. note: found in a dumpster outside the Mall of America -- the first draft of Nick Coleman's latest cry for help in the Minneapolis Star-Tribune]
OOOH, TIME MAGAZINE BLOG OF THE YEAR! I AM SO FREAKING IMPRESSED... NOT
By Nick Coleman
Star-Tribune
The end of the year is a time to bury the hatchet, so congratulations to Powerline, the Twin Cities blog that last week was named Time magazine's "Blog of the Year!"
Now let me get a new hatchet.
That's a veiled warning, readers, because Sensei Nick is about to unleash a flurry of professional journalism hatchet-fu on the so-called "Blog of the Year," which will soon be begging for mercy from my metaphors of fury.
Trust me. It won't be pretty.
Ready? Last chance, because here it comes. Starting with the next paragraph.
These guys pretend to be a little litter of adorable watchdogs. In fact they are mangy, rabid, cross-dressing Rottweilers bred in a filthy hillbilly puppy mill behind Roger Ailes' trailer park. Oh sure, they're advertised as "free to good family," but soon these Halliburton hellhounds are attacking the innocent postman of the Mainstream Media, ripping the carpet of fairness, and leaving a big steaming pile of right-wing agenda on the sofa of objectivity. It's time we in the legitimate media take these blog mongrels out back and teach 'em a little lesson in journalism -- Old Yeller style.
They are funded by millionaire power brokers. They should call themselves "Powertool," because they don't speak truth to power. They just speak for power. Or maybe they should call themselves "Powerpill" because they make GOPAC-Man chase the media ghost around the internet computer maze. Another clever name I might suggests is "the Powerpuff Ghouls," because of the one cartoon show, or also "Might Murdock Power Rangers." The important point to remember here is that unlike amateur bloggers, we professional journalists can come up with many devastatingly hilarious names.
Another important thing to consider is who exactly these "bloggers" are. The "muckraking" lads behind Powerline are a bank vice president named Scott Johnson and a lawyer named John Hinderaker. Now what do you think of when you hear bank vice president and lawyer? That's right: Milburn Drysdale and Roy Cohn. Call me crazy, but I'm putting my trust in professionally trained journalism school graduates -- not some creepy money pervert and his shyster "companion," thank you very much.
If you read Powerline, you know them better by their fantasy names, Big Trunk (that's Johnson) and Hind Rocket (Hinderaker). I will leave it to the appropriate professionals to determine what they are compensating for, but in case you didn't notice, I just made another devastatingly clever joke about their pee-pees.
I wish I didn't have to do it, because I already get ripped a lot on their site, which thankfully also has had some nice photos of bikini-clad candidates for Miss Universe to keep me company. Because I am totally not gay, no matter how many times I get ripped by a Big Trunk or torn a new one by a Hind Rocket, or just because they might have pimped me out to Lileks last week for a carton of Kools. I accept Powerline's contempt; I am only a Mainstream Media man, while Big Trunk and Hind Rocket are way cool. They blog.
Not me. Nossirree, not old Nick. See, ol' Nickerino works for a dopey old newspaper committed to dumb facts, and nerdy justice, and covering the chess club news fairly in our floodwater pants. Powerline doesn't make boring commitments. They are not Mainstream Media. They are Extreme Media.
"Check us out dude! We're the cool extreeeme media, doing a backside grind 720 ollie investigation on the blogosphere halfpipe! Let's grow goatees and tag the Mainstream Media nerds with our innuendo grafitti, dudes! Powerline Rulez, Strib Droolz!"
I call them reliable partisan hacks. Because that's what they call me: a reliable partisan hack, even though in actuality they are the reliable partisan hacks, and not me. I know you are, Powerline, but what am I? Because I am rubber and you are glue.
I guess Powerline doesn't notice I have criticized many dumb Democrats. Just last month, I devastatingly criticised the Democrats for being so dumb that they couldn't beat Bush. Does Powerline notice? Noooooooooo.
I guess Powerline doesn't know that your truly -- in addition to totally not being gay -- does not fit the 'effete Hollywood limousine liberal' stereotype held by their hillbilly racist plutocrat friends in Jesusland.
I guess Powerline doesn't know that in 1850 my Great Grandfather, Seamus O'Coleman, swam his way across the Atlantic from Eire, up the Saint Lawrence Seaway, and through the rampaging shark swarms of Lake Superior. Penniless and exhausted, he drug himself upon the icy shores of Duluth, dreaming of his big break as an itinerant sodbuster. Instead, he was greeted by Paul Bunyan and his bloodthirsty mob of giant, Irish-hating Swede lumberjacks, and beaten within an inch of his life.
Didn't know that, did you, "Blog of the Year"? I'll pause now, so you can better contemplate your shame.
I guess Powerline doesn't know that we "Elite Media" villains have held plenty of menial jobs. From mowing lawns to scooping things, I have worked the hardy work of the working man. My hands are gnarled and charred from untold hours working the ovens at Pizza Hut, before Rick the manager pointed out that big oven-spatula thing. I know the difference between a phillips and a flathead screwdriver.
My journalism career? It all started out with a $143 a week job at a little tabloid called the Edina Thrifty Nickel. It was 31 years ago, but I remember it as if it were yesterday.
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Who is Nick Coleman?
Posted by: OC Chuck | January 02, 2005 at 11:23 PM
"P.S. Krugman and Dowd want help, too."
Mark Morford is due for the IH treatment as well.
Posted by: evan | December 31, 2004 at 04:27 PM
Wonderful! If Coleman believes the "There's no such thing as bad publicity" he's got to be proud of the results of his column.
If he's got any sense he's still in bed today with the covers over his head.
If he has a sense of humor he's laughing hysterically at this post!
Posted by: Janette | December 31, 2004 at 02:55 PM
Well done, IH.
The way your piece interlaces Coleman's genuine words with your hyperbolic inventions ingeniuously lampoons Coleman better than any humorless analysis.
Coleman fears humor. He may know stuff but he ain't got none.
Posted by: pinkmonkeybird | December 31, 2004 at 10:46 AM
When one reads a Nick Coleman piece one should use a pronounced flaming lisp in order to get the full effect.
Posted by: azul93gt | December 30, 2004 at 07:52 PM
Between "I just made another devastatingly clever joke about their pee-pees" and "their hillbilly racist plutocrat friends in Jesusland," I simply wept. I'm so glad you do this, what you do.
Posted by: m | December 30, 2004 at 04:54 PM
Laughter is the best medicine, and I feel quite healthy. Thanks!
I recommend your blog to all my hillbilly racist plutocrat friends in Jesusland.
Catttt
Baltimore, Md.
Posted by: Catttt | December 30, 2004 at 04:13 PM
Thanks a lot. Can't stop laughing and now the whole office knows I'm goofing off.
Posted by: TakeFive | December 30, 2004 at 03:57 PM
I can't get the subscription thingie to work. Can you help?
P.S. Krugman and Dowd want help, too.
Posted by: Tom Friedman | December 30, 2004 at 03:04 PM
I cracked my ribs in an accident a week ago and I believe I just re-cracked them, just from trying to read the third paragraph to my daughter.
Posted by: Emily | December 30, 2004 at 02:42 PM
That shot at the Viqueens was quite the low blow. And sooo delicious!
Go Pack Go
Posted by: BrewFan | December 30, 2004 at 02:36 PM
Fantastic! Only a true tool, so to speak, can set himself up to be so roundly, and soundly, skewered.
QM
Posted by: Quilly Mammoth | December 30, 2004 at 02:02 PM
I can't get the subscription thing to work - hey, hold on, I thought this was found in a dumpster, what's ... is this some kind of a sick joke?
What's up with you internet guys anyway, you're so mean.
Posted by: Matthew Goggins | December 30, 2004 at 01:44 PM
You did include the "okey-dokey" on Gnat's behalf?
Cheers
JMH
Posted by: J.M. Heinrichs | December 30, 2004 at 01:02 PM
Looks like the only thing bigger than Nick Blowhards ego is his insecurity.
Posted by: pete | December 30, 2004 at 12:27 PM
Ooooooooooo, so funny mr. kewl right-wing blogger-booger gonna dump his contempt on Mr. Minnehapless columnator?
Whatever dude. Keep it comin'...
Posted by: PostModernAtor | December 30, 2004 at 12:22 PM
Was that shorter than the actual editorial?
Posted by: Jim Treacher | December 30, 2004 at 12:08 PM
That is brilliant. I bow before your greatness.
Posted by: kb | December 30, 2004 at 10:23 AM
I never heard of this guy Coleman until yesterday.
Now I know why.
What a tool.
Good one.
Posted by: spd rdr | December 30, 2004 at 10:19 AM
what was that? nick coleman parody?
BRILLIANT!!
thanks for the laugh hawk.
Posted by: don't be that guy | December 30, 2004 at 01:08 AM
Hawk,
Shame.
This is not parody. This is genuine Nick Coleman. That "found in the dumpster" schtick is fooling no one, especially Nick Coleman. Every last word of this was published in the Star Tribune mistake edition, no doubt just where you found it.
And why try to write Nick Coleman parodies when that is Nick Coleman's stock in trade. Nick Coleman is PAID to write Nick Coleman parodies.
Let's have more on monster truck pulls and tips for whitened tire halves in artful lawn arrangements.
DGB
Posted by: Damian | December 29, 2004 at 09:05 PM
Damn you! I was all set to read another two more pages--keep going, keep going!
Posted by: alex | December 29, 2004 at 08:47 PM
I am in tears.
Lileks is going to read it and get inspired and come out with the Gallery Of Regrettable Cigarettes book in time for next Xmas starting with those Kools.
Posted by: 29 | December 29, 2004 at 08:36 PM