Rush Carries This Great Looking Beer Advertisement Around For Photo Ops.
Rush Limbaugh sure has stepped in it this time. After years of being the right wing's mainline into the heads of white middle class working people, he's finally answered Raging Titter's favorite question. How far can too far go?
Public figures who stumble on the high wire of fame and fortune and plummet ungracefully toward the net can detail for us that which many of us dare not even to imagine. How does the world look from free fall? So much more terrifying and melancholy must those moments be for a man so aware of gravity. Even more so for someone who believes safety nets of any kind constitute a kind of cheating.
"Look, I've apologized on my website and that's good enough for the folks on Twitter. I'm not a fountain of contrition. I've moved on from this, but there are just a few points that I'd like to refine."
"First, I make my living now, and have for over 25 years, by talking about whatever the American people had on their collective minds. They listen because no one else says what I say the way I say it. I invoke the spirit of the average American with the spirit of my words, and that is a great responsibility. And, as I am human, sometimes I fail."
"Certainly I did not fail to raise discussion and stir controversy. Google News attests to that. No sir, I failed in regard to this young woman because I had no real opinion about her or what she said. I failed because I did not really care about her issue or, for that matter, her. She was simply a convenient prop with which I stoked the fire in the mental bellies of my listenership. My wrong was not one of disrespect or malice; it was a wrong of intellectual sloth. Laziness led me to something far worse than chauvinism. It led to words without meaning. It led to insincerity."
"Recently, I've felt pressures like never before. I was speaking at a gathering of Young Republicans on the campus of the University of Florida and I mentioned Chappaquiddick jokingly. No one laughed. No one got it. No one except this geeky Cuban kid at the back of the room who was no doubt there on some affirmative action type program. I could see the other kids lean in close to Mr. Handout for an explanation. That was it. That young man dealt me a blow and had no idea the impact of the...impact. My pandering jokes were getting too old. Certain points of my timeless patter had grown stale. It was that moment and dozens like it which ground me down to the point of reaching for that easy word. Slut."
"It's a strange thing to get paid so much money to talk and sometimes have absolutely nothing to say."
Mount Rushmore signed off with something that sounded vaguely like "mega-dittos" and most definitely stated he'd be "ridin' an oxcart to the moon" for the remainder of the evening. He then asked which red wine went with opiates. Pinot Noir, El Rushbo.