The Tale of Tweety

Note that even in college (Holy Cross) he was a sneering twerp.
Just Another Blog's™ demanding schedule usually has it awake & off the couch by 1400 PT wkdys., or 1600 PT for sure, so we usually take a peep at the man his staff dubbed "Tweety" ('cause of the hair color he uses) to see what crap the masses are having stuffed down their mental throats by the Old Media Washington, D. C. cocktail weenie crowd. And one thing we've determined is that Matthews is a tool, & not the sharpest one in the MSNBC drawer either. While we've never given much of a shit exactly what his problem was, while wandering the vast wasteland (the Internet, not the telebision wasteland Newton Minow predicted in the early '60s) we encountered a delicious hit piece in Slate that gave us a better idea of Mr. Matthews' demons:

Legendary. Supporter of democracy. Learned reporter. Distinguished. Prolific. All of these words may capture Matthews' character, but not as well as do flighty, braying, shameless, and opportunistic. It's a shame that nobody gives a Sammy Glick Award. Matthews would be a cinch.

Haw haw. And this:

"He made no secret about it. Chris Matthews wanted to be a pundit, a player, a face on the Sunday political talk shows," Rosenstiel writes. But the transformation required journalistic credentials, which Matthews lacked.

And since we've already plunged into Slate, let's get into the other big Internet magazine that starts w/ an "ess," Salon:

Chris "Tweety" Matthews is indeed an insufferable blithering jackass, a creepy Irish-American misogynist who fits nicely into conservative Catholic Jack Welch's similarly-pedigreed stable of thoroughbred infotainwhores.

Testify, brother. (Didn't know Welch, former chairman of GE, was a Catholic too.) The above & the following excerpt are from a comment to this item, which excoriates Matthews & his cocktail weenie buddies.

I find it interesting that admirers can somehow brush aside Tweety's adolescent loathing for Hillary Clinton (I'm not a fan), or his embarrassingly homoerotic gushing over men in power. During the post-war era of Freudian psychotherapy, Tweety would've been instantly classified "latent homosexual".

Talbot's characterization of Tweety as a shallow, superficial blarneymonger comports with my mercifully limited experience of him.

Ah, Freud. Mostly full of crap, but an excellent source of sophisticated-sounding insults. More Irish-Catholic misogyny, as evidenced in Washingtonian:

The irony of the situation came to a point when Matthews began to discuss Hillary Clinton’s candidacy. “You gotta be heard because men just keep talking,” he said after he mentioned the “big, deep, green, scaly, horny monster” of misogyny that might rear its head at at the polls.

“Men are all whipped into silence on this topic,” he said. He also noted that women’s voices often scale upwards when they try to be heard in a debate, and he conjectured that men might weary of Mrs. Clinton’s sometimes strident tones.

“Not 8 years,” he imagined men thinking.

“When a man yells, it’s entertainment. When a woman yells, it’s Eleanor Clift,” Matthews said.

Or, when Chris yells, it's an asshole of the first water. And speaking of Freud, how 'bout that "horny monster" of misogyny? And those "whipped into silence" men? What exactly was it that "whipped" them, Chris? Something that so scares you, you dare not speak its name?

Last & least, here he is, morning after-stylee:It wouldn't be Just Another Blog™ w/o an unflattering photo, would it? Note hair & its dye.