Here we go again, pre-emptively speaking

by: Eric B.

Thu Oct 16, 2008 at 14:59:10 PM EDT

A few days ago I wrote this blog post in which I linked to a post at the Bradosphere in which Jackson Cit Pat reporter Brad Flory said that anyone who thinks that Tim Walberg told the Cit Pat that he was Club for Growth's paid-for boy in Washington is a moron. After reading what Walberg had told the paper, I concluded that he had indeed said that very thing. Therefore, I concluded that The Bradosphere was calling me a moron, and wrote as such.

A couple of days ago, The Bradosphere contacted me by e-mail and told me that he didn't know if I was a moron because he'd never met me, and explained that he didn't think people who think that Tim Walberg is in the pocket of Club for Growth were morons, only people who said they thought he'd told the Cit Pat.  Here is what Tim Walberg actually told the Cit Pat:

"If I go to Congress and lower taxes, reduce pork-barrel spending and kill the tax codes of the IRS," Walberg said, "you can say, 'Yep, I'm bought and paid for by them.'"

He did precisely that.  He went to Congress and has tried to lower taxes, argued about pork-barrel spending, and has advocated on behalf of the Fair Tax.  Based on his own words (and also knowing where his campaign cash comes from), he's bought-and-paid for by Club for Growth.

The Bradosphere argues that because his comments were made flippantly, that they be excused from interpretation.

What I wrote is this: Anyone who believes Walberg really said such a thing is a moron. No politician is that stupid. What Walberg actually said, in response to questions about him receiving truckloads of money from Club for Growth, is the last part of a flippant remark intended to convey the message he thinks the Club for Growth agenda is good.

Again, I think Walberg said such a thing because he said such a thing.  Therefore, according to The Bradosphere, I'm a moron. I mean, if someone asked about my reputation as a lazy degenerate, and I flippantly responded by saying, "Well, if sitting around at 2:30 in the afternoon in the blue sweat pants I wore to bed and playing Mouse Hunt on Facebook makes me a lazy degenerate then you can say, 'Yep, I'm a lazy degenerate" I would expect everyone from that point forward to call me a lazy degenerate. And, they'd be right to.

(I'll spare the front page the rest of this woeful tale...)

The Bradosphere chose to make some of our private correspondence public, possibly because I did the same thing to his former colleague Susan J. Demas last year (at least that was funny).  I mean, I guess I should be at least mildly offended that something meant for private consumption was made public, and if I'd known he was going to do it, I'd have jazzed it up with some juvenile insults.  But, whatever, I've been doing this kind of work long enough to know better. (Note to self: Always, always, always include juvenile insults in personal correspondence so that when it's made public, people might at least get a chuckle out of it.)

What he didn't include was our second round of e-mails.  His response to my response started with what I'm assuming was indignant bewilderment over my suggestion that he take ownership of his words. I mean, if you're going to call someone a moron, don't walk away from it the minute it starts to go bad.  You need to own that insult, caress it like it's your little pet.

I discerned his intent to be that because I disagreed with his assessment that the problem is that I hadn't really heard what he was saying.  So, he repeated himself and put a couple of words in bold.  I'm assuming this is The Bradosphere acknowledging that unbreakable law of e-mail correspondence, which is that if you can't convince someone of your point the first time around, what you really need to do is speak louder.  Other variations of the form include words in all caps, underlined, and the gratuitous and nonsensical use of exclamation points ... the man who figures out how to affix a pirate flag will be the first man to transcend his human body and become one with the Internets.

I will skip my obvious reply to him, and go right to the last piece of correspondence from him to me:

OK, you win. You are a moron.

Finally, The Bradosphere takes ownership of his words.  Next time, don't wait so long, d00d.  Embrace them. Whisper sweet words in their ears. Love them.