I never got Imus.
I always thought he was just a (rusty and useless) tool who always sounds old, hateful and bored. The ringmaster at a circus of sycophantic freaks, he mutters and mumbles barely coherently about nothing that interests me, and if it did interest me, my opinion would eventually oppose his, or at least his tack. But his latest “verbal insensitivity” issue reminds me of a former shipmate.
"Bill" loved loved the I-man so that he often spoke in a drawling monotone and obsessively insisted on calling people “pantload,” or any number of Imus' crusty colloquialisms. Now, "Bill" is a decent sailor, with an education, important job, and swell family. When I think that he would emulate (of all things) a radio host, I fear for those who are not as respectable or discerning. Yes, the clumsy boors who are daily influenced by Imus. After all, they have 30 years' experience pulling out the old “First Amendment sez” arguments and (more recently) “them damn PC Police” chestnuts to support and defend their hero’s insensitivity, racism, thoughtlessness, selfishness, misogyny, homophobia, etc.
On The Beach, “sorry” doesn’t have to mean “contrite,” anyway. Beach natives have a two-blocked and turned misunderstanding of apology and forgiveness. Forever mistaking vengeance for justice, and irresponsible childishness for innocent indecorum, Beach dwellers believe they can commit any number of atrocities, be forgiven by God, and continue in their self-absorbed impropriety, whether anyone else cares or not. And they are bolstered by morning and afternoon chat shows and 24-hour news channels that prove, to them, that untruths are unchallenged and hurtful language is defensible.
What a bunch of pantloads.
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
I never got Imus.