Steve notes that the remarkably lovely Maggie Gyllenhaal has got herself into a bit of trouble for raising an uncomfortable question: whether the US bears any responsibility for the events of Sept. 11, 2001.
Cue the swarming wingnuts, who on one hand are rushing to condemn her, while simultaneously expressing the opinion that the famous should keep their opinions to themselves. It’s like an endless replay, this whine of theirs, every time somebody strays from the country music party line. You saw it with Sean Penn and Richard Gere and Barbra Streisand, then the Dixie Chicks, then Bruce Springsteen, Whoopi Goldberg, anybody really who didn’t perform for the right-wing cause like a trained seal.
Which provides me with yet another opportunity to marvel at my favorite wingnut spectacle, the most entertaining thing about wingnuttery: The way they immediately extrapolate the existence of an opinion with which they disagree, into their being somehow “forced” or “subjected” to considering that opinion. How dare she speak where I can hear her?
Apparently considering an opinion is such heartwrenching, backbreaking work that they should be protected from it. I don’t especially enjoy considering the opinion of Republican friends and relatives that George W. Bush is not the worst president we’ve ever had, but it doesn’t throw my back out to listen to it once in a while. I’ve killed more brain cells with vodka than I ever have with political discourse.
For a bunch of guys who claim such machismo as their hallmark, whose party thrives on its image of hard-workin’, terraist-killin’ Rambo strongmen, the wingers sure do get spooked easily. One pretty actress saying something on TV and suddenly their very being is assaulted. Read some of those freeper comments, man, you’d think Ms. Gyllenhaal turned them down for sex. “Puerile leftist whore?”
And if I had a dollar for everybody that could spell her name correctly over there I’d still be very, very broke.