love letter to rush limbaugh (read at the amherst rao's reading on 3-30)
rush limbaugh, allow me.
to boil your blood and give it back to you, slowly.
to explain to you how birth control actually works.
as president of NASA I nominate rush limbaugh to do some revolutionary space experiment that will ultimately result in the loneliest space death imaginable.
if only rush limbaugh had been mistaken for laika. we should invest in the technology that would allow us to go back in time and mistake rush limbaugh for laika. rush limbaugh should have been the poor unsuspecting dog, shooting into space, falling victim to an intense pressure that literally sucks away at the misogyny that is-evidently-the glue of his seedy unfortunate brain.
rush limbaugh should dedicate his wildly offensive body to Science!
should we study his misogyny in labs NAY- we should give him the number one radio show in America. good job America.
on rush limbaugh’s website there is a picture of him smoking a cigar, and wearing an expensive watch and polo shirt, blowing smoke out of his mouth like a fat dumb dragon and looking like he truly does not give a shit, truly embodying the American dream aesthetic as understood by millions of frat boys across the country, and I imagine somebody looking at this picture, ready to purchase a rush limbaugh coffee mug from the convenient online gift shop, and thinking to themselves, “godddamn, this guy really gets me.”
my relationship with my father is entirely contingent on my denial of his love of the rush limbaugh show, and my denial of limbaugh’s book on his shelf, called “the way things ought to be.”
honestly who writes a book called “the way things ought to be”; why not just jerk off to your own reflection and call it a new york times bestseller
if I had the audacity to write a book called “the way things ought to be,” it would be about how a book with that title ought to never exist, but lo and behold there it is, on my dad’s bookshelf, limbaugh’s greasy hellish face gracing the jacket of this shitty artifact of best-selling 90’s literature, his almighty bullshit parading in small font under the guise of profound wisdom
rush limbaugh, allow me.
to be a woman in America, a woman in the world.
I am the femi-nazi that you love to lament. I have wild and ambitious dreams for women everywhere.
for instance I want my children to grow up in a world where a brunette woman can be on Fox news (and it is not assumed that she is a lesbian)
I want my children to grow up in a world where there isn’t a news network that might as well literally be a continuous program of white men in suits vomiting on expensive desks,
or at least in a world where such a network does not exclusively claim the slogan of “fair and balanced”
let’s call it what it is; vomit on desks