NRCC Spokesman Channels “Private Carr”
Via Digby, a nice remark from a Republican National Congressional Committee spokesman:
What prompted the committee’s entry into the Schmidt-Hackett race was a comment made by [Dem candidate] Hackett in a USA Today article published Thursday. Hackett, talking about his service as a marine in Iraq, is quoted as saying, “I’ve said I don’t like the son-of-a-b— that lives in the White House. But I’d put my life on the line for him.”
Because Hackett said that, [RNCC spokesman] Forti said, “we decided to bury him.”
The Washington Post has it like this:
Both the Democratic Congressional Campaign Committee and the National Republican Congressional Committee have bought TV time for commercials over the weekend. “He called the commander in chief a son-of-a-[expletive],” said NRCC spokesman Carl Forti. “We decided to bury him.”
This is oddly reminiscent of Ulysses 15.4643-45:
PRIVATE CARR(loosening his belt, shouts) I’ll wring the neck of any fucking bastard says a word against my bleeding fucking king.
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August 3rd, 2005 @ 21:53
Spoken to Brendan Carr (Q-Tip) by NSGA Pyongtaek CO after locally advertising for “anyone who can cook me up a pot of dog stew” — YOU’RE AN IDIOT BUT YOUR MY FUCKING IDIOT…AND MY NEW PROJECT CARR!
February 27th, 2011 @ 08:22
Six years later I tumble to this use of my name in vain, and feel compelled to clear the record — for the record. So many heard it third hand, including Ron Peters it seems, but this is the full and true story.
This incident took place, I believe, in 1991 while I was on loan from NSGA Pyongtaek to the 6903d Electronic Security Group at Osan Air Base in Korea, as a lowly third-class. One day, walking home from work to my off-base apartment just outside the gate, I came upon a lost dog wandering around inside the base. Since I was a young fool, I thought, “Oh, look at the poor little lost doggy. I’ll take him home and then find his owner.” He looked clean and well-loved, and was wearing a collar (although no tags, which should have been a clue).
That dog turned into a rabid monster soon after I had brought him home. In fact, I eventually had to call the animal-control folks to bring him out of the room in which I had confined him. But in the interim, even though I was afraid of the snarling, biting beast, I still wanted to reunite him with the loving family I thought was missing him. So I took a picture of the lost doggy and put together a sign to post in the base Post Office.
Just as a throwaway line, I wrote that the dog was yappy and bitey, and therefore “I’m only keeping him a week, so if this is your dog please hurry before he ends up as dog stew.” Har har. (Koreans eat dog, you see.) At that time I was yet unaware what a grim, politically-correct, and humorless bunch of ass-covering prigs comprise the Air Force officer-and-family corps. The lynch mob that quickly formed (took just a few hours, wow!) looking for whichever monster had threatened to cook that sweet-looking little dog was an early clue, though. Luckily for me I had clearly printed my full name, rank, unit and phone number.
On top of an undeserved but awfully thorough ass-chewing, I got some rabies shots out of it after the little fucker bit me. I think this is one of the early experiences that turned me away from liberalism.
I am surprised, however, that Ron Peters would recall this story 15 years after the fact. Hope you’re doing well, Ron. I sure the hell am. Still live in Korea, working as a lawyer, and not picking up any stray dogs.
And Chris, if you ever stumble on this comment, look a brother up. Enjoy your travels in Africa and come home safe.