Monday, March 13, 2017

Assholes On Parade

From the august pages of The New Yorker, a peep at some pukes in the Executive Mansion Press Briefing Room:
Wintrich, who is twenty-eight and has no professional training in journalism, was on his way to Washington to join the White House press corps. “I can only imagine what they’re going to make of me,” he said, smiling impishly and rolling his eyes. A few weeks earlier, at a pre-Inauguration party called the DeploraBall, I had spent a portion of the evening chatting with Wintrich, one of several far-right social-media stars in attendance. At one point, he excused himself to make an announcement from the stage: “We’ve had eight miserable years of people in the White House press corps—CNN, BuzzFeed, Huffington Post—writing articles” about President Obama, such as “ ‘The Best 80 Times That I Wanted to Jerk Off to Our President.’ ” This bias would soon be rectified. “We’ve been in contact with people in the new Administration, . . . I’m going to be . . . the youngest, gayest correspondent in the White House in history!” A cheer went up from the crowd as the announcement was made, followed by a chant: “Real news! Real news!”
“Do you have any why-to books?”
Wintrich, a slim, good-looking brunet, grew up in Pittsburgh. At eighteen, when he enrolled at Bard College, he was a standard-issue progressive. By his junior year, he had become a Reaganite. “I was incredibly annoyed by the P.C. culture on campus, being told what not to say,” he said. “Plus, I’ll admit, I’ve always had a contrarian streak.” He moved to New York, where he was a “creative” by day and a “party host” by night, both jobs that are not quite as glamorous as their euphemistic titles imply. A “creative” works at an advertising agency. (Wintrich claims that his former agency fired him for his political views, but that he can’t elaborate because they settled out of court.) A “party host” is paid a few hundred dollars to show up at a club, invite a coterie of attractive friends, and spend an evening being conspicuously charming. “I had a good run, for a few years, as a darling of the artsy New York gay scene,” Wintrich told me. “Then I came out as pro-Trump, and all those bitches turned against me.”

[...]

Wintrich was taking the bus to D.C. because, he explained, as a fiscal conservative he couldn’t bring himself to support Amtrak.* He had packed an Yves Saint Laurent blazer, three Hermès ties, and a bottle of Dior Eau Sauvage. “I’ve got my first few outfits all lined up, and, I have to say, they’re extremely cute,” he said. On his phone, he reviewed a draft of a contract formalizing his employment with the Gateway Pundit. In a previous version of the contract, he said, “there was a sentence about ‘Employee must maintain professional behavior at all times.’ I called Jim and asked, ‘Does this mean I shouldn’t troll liberals anymore?’ and he went, ‘Oh, we’d better just take that line out.’ ”
What a polite young man, & further confirmation of Cleek's Law. Mr. Wintrich has no interest in policy or programs;
he just wants to act out, & now he's been given a national stage. Thanks, Trump.
*There's a non-sequitor for you. What in fucking hell is that supposed to mean? Does he think the roads on which the buses roll are willed into being by Galtian Übermenschen?

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