See what happens when a bunch of poli-geeks with nothing better to do decide to get together in DC and have a weekend-long mass beat-off, getting their panties all in a bunch over who will be the front-runner for a week or two leading into a bunch of primaries — that’s primaries, folks, not even the general election — that are a year or more away?

Ann Coulter says something outrageous (Uncle Peter, my smelling salts!!) at said beat-off, a third of the rightosphere catches the vapors and wrings its dainty little hands over it to edify the PC Left — who, astonishingly, despite all the fretting and indignation, still hates the rightosphere’s guts anyway; another third whets its (rhetorical! rhetorical!) knives angrily over the RINO segment’s betrayal of True Conservatism’s anti-homo plank, and wishes Ann would say something even more outrageous — which, sooner or later, she will; and another third has a good, long belly-laugh over it all (see examples of all these reax here). The ugly, hateful, bigoted Left throws a hissy fit BECAUSE OF THE UGLY, HATEFUL BIGOTRY! And every last hyper-politically-aware dorkwad in the country looks like more of a no-life freak than he or she did previously, as if that were believable or even, at times, possible.

Message from Earth: GET OVER YOURSELVES, FOR FUCK’S SAKE. ALL OF YOU. I’m beginning to feel downright embarrassed for you. And I don’t embarrass all that easily, as anybody who’s been reading my blather here for very long already knows.

For the record: what Ann said was tasteless and offensive, which is exactly what it was intended to be. And anybody who hasn’t personally denounced the myriad smears and slurs that have been tossed at Righties like stinkbombs for the last thirty years, or who hasn’t felt the need to restrain themselves from lamely explaining away any of a number of liberal “botched jokes” over the years, needn’t go around fluffing up a nice comfy throw-pillow of OUTRAGE!™ and demanding any apologies now, from me or anybody else. in fact, you can all go piss up a rope for all me.

And all you fartknockers strutting around like peacocks at CPAC, kissing rings and harrumphing ponderously from Bloggers’ Row, need to realize something: you’re being played, by a bunch of megalomaniac apple-polishing blowhards — most of whom will probably be forced to drop out of the race after the Superduperawesomestever Tuesday primary vote next year (next year!) sends them scurrying back home with the stale miasma of defeat displacing that fog of ego now obscuring everyone’s vision. That’s NEXT FUCKING YEAR, Poindexter, by which time the warm, fuzzy feeling (conjured by all those pairs of blogger lips plastered over all those pasty RINO asscheeks) currently floating dreams of glory like so many boats on the Potomac will have evaporated.

You aren’t changing the world. You aren’t “setting the tone” for anything. You aren’t “electing a President here,” as Ace (who really ought to know better) said last week in a different context. Nobody’s electing anything at all just yet, thanks. It’s way too early for any of that. You’re beating off, for your own reasons and your own edification — and mostly, I suspect, for lack of anything better to do. Call it what you like; wrench your shoulders out of joint patting yourselves on the back for your “gravitas” and “importance”, if that’s what fires your jets. But don’t expect me to fall for any of it. And don’t expect me to jump into the circle jerk in any capacity, or marvel over anybody’s skills at playing pivot man.

Any candidate who’s dived into the Presidential race this early has done so out of advance desperation, and most likely knows full well what their chances are: hovering somewhere between slim and none. What you have at CPAC is A) a bunch of erstwhile liberals scrambling frantically to convince a bunch of cake-eating wannabe journalists that they have the conservative bona-fides to win the general election, á la Giuliani and Romney; or B) a bunch of fringe unknowns jumping up and down yelling, “Hey! Look! Over here!” It seems way more likely to me that the nomination will go to someone currently in the shadows, someone not particularly well-known at this early stage. But hey, what the hell do I know?

Well, besides this, I mean: a year from now, all of this — every last bit of it — will be forgotten, and it will have all the lasting impact on future elections of…last year’s CPAC. Anybody remember the significance of that one? Anybody remember anything at all about it?

Besides Coulter’s “raghead” remark, that is.

Predictions: Giuliani has NOTHING WHATEVER “in the bag” or “all sewn up.” McCain, despite the “unravelling” of his campaign, will be making no concession or withdrawal speeches for the rest of this year. The Left will continue acting like petulant, America Daddy-hating brats, all reality notwithstanding, just like always. Romney is…well, who the hell cares at this point anyway? Or, who that has a friggin’ life outside of this nonsense, I mean?

And you guys wondered why I said I was bored with politics a week or so ago?

NOTE: Edited, because I felt like it.

Update! Edwards is no faggot as far as I know, and I don’t much care if he is. Although with balls like the ones it takes to turn a shoddy backhanded insult into an oleaginous plea for a cool 100 G’s, the phonus-balonus bloodsucking lawyer has just proved himself to be the wet dream of plenty of folks who are, I’d guess.

(Via Treacher)