Ted Eats Tucker's Lunch | Opinion | Salt Lake City | Salt Lake City Weekly
DONATE
Support the Free Press.
Facts matter. Truth matters. Journalism matters.
Salt Lake City Weekly has been Utah's source of independent news and in-depth journalism since 1984.
Donate today to ensure the legacy continues.

News » Opinion

Ted Eats Tucker's Lunch

Smart Bomb: The completely unnecessary news analysis

By

comment
smart_bomb.jpg

Fox personality and right-wing propagandist Tucker Carlson was walking down a lonely, desert road when he saw a man approaching on a horse. The man had a big smile, the kind that villains have before they kill someone.

"Let me introduce myself," the rider said, "I am the infamous Texas Sen. Ted Cruz." "Oh yes," Tucker Carlson said, "I've heard of you. Maybe you could help me." "Sure," said Cruz, "but first, you must do something for me. See that cow pie over there, I want you to eat it."

When Carlson bit into the pie, Cruz began laughing so hard that he dropped his pistol. Carlson grabbed up the gun and told Cruz to dismount. When Carlson was atop the steed, he pointed the gun at Cruz and told him to eat the cow pie.

Cruz hesitated and said, "I don't really like these pies all that much." But then Carlson berated him, "You called the Jan. 6 patriots 'terrorists' and now you have to eat shit." "But wait," Cruz said, "I take it all back. They were patriots and it was the FBI and Capitol Police who are the terrorists."

"That's good, senator," Carlson said, "but you're going to have to eat shit anyway."

When Carlson rode into town he stopped at the saloon for refreshment. The barkeep asked him if he knew the infamous Ted Cruz. "Do I know Ted Cruz?" Carlson said, "I ate lunch with him."

Where Oh Where is the Metaverse? Oh Boy
Don't believe what Facebook's Mark Zuckerberg says, the metaverse doesn't exist—yet. For now, it's just a bunch of hype to get investors to dig deep.

Of course, it doesn't mean it might not exist some day. It would bring together countless smaller digital worlds so users could move between them, carrying their virtual identity and even their cryptocurrency with them. Zuckerberg says it's "an embodied Internet where you're in the experience, not just looking at it." Trippy.

A little too trippy for Wilson and the band, who already have trouble programming their 10-speed digital Osterizer. And The Washington Post's Will Oremus warns: "Getting rival companies to meld their products into a single metaverse would require a level of cooperation and openness for which today's tech gatekeepers have shown little appetite or aptitude."

Nonetheless, in the future folks could be going on vacation in the metaverse, making real estate transactions in the metaverse and, who knows, even picking up partners at the metaverse bar. And no, Wilson, we don't have the details on that, because the metaverse doesn't exist yet, so you and the guys will have to do it the old fashioned way. And that is undoubtedly a good thing.

The Pillow Guy and Steve Bannon Get Down
Just days ago, The Pillow Guy went on one-time Trump advisor Steve Bannon's podcast to celebrate Jan. 6 as a patriotic success:

Bannon—OK, Pillow Guy, this is just the beginning of the new America, the true spirit of what it means to be free of all the trappings of so-called democracy.

Pillow Guy—Yeah man. I've been telling people that for an entire year. I have all the proven facts that Trump won. By the way, have you tried one of my pillows? They'll give you sweet dreams, I guarantee it.

Bannon—Look, Pillow Guy, we're not here to talk about your f---ing pillows. We're here to talk about the overthrow of Biden, his stupid wife and the puppy they named "Commander." Commander, for god's sake.

Pillow Guy—Well, now at least we know there's at least one commander in the White House.

Bannon—Would you shut up. The American people are ready to storm the Bastille. If Republicans don't take back Congress, we're toast.

Pillow Guy—The Bastille is in France, my wife and I visited it once. We stayed near the Eiffel Tower.

Bannon—Damn it, Pillow Guy, if all patriots were like you, we'd never get fascism.

Postscript— Alright sports fans, that'll do it for another week here at Smart Bomb, where we keep track of white Christian nationalism so you don't have to. Lehi's Dave Bateman—noted Utah Republican and co-founder of software giant Entrada—made national news this week when he sent out emails that said Jews wanted to "euthanize the American people" with COVID-19 vaccines. Holy shit, Dave.

He began the email with this: "I write this email knowing that many of you will think I'm crazy after reading it." He got that part right, at least. Crazy Dave said that Jews have been trying to infiltrate the Catholic Church for 300 years and succeeded with the rise of Pope Francis in 2013. But Crazy Dave isn't alone. His schtick comes right out of the white Christian nationalist hymn book.

Last year, Ali Alexander—founder of the Stop the Steal movement—converted to Catholicism because the church had been infiltrated by "an earthly order that works in concert with Satan..." At the Jan. 6, insurrection, protesters wore T-shirts and ball caps that proclaimed such things as "Jesus is my savior, Trump is my president" and "God, Guns & Trump." There are plenty of Crazy Daves out there and god bless it, they don't seem to be done saving the country.

Well Wilson, when the Christians start killing for Jesus you know we're in deep dudu. It may be time to tune in, turn on and drop out. Or maybe just move to Canada. What have you and the band got to serenade Crazy Dave and the Christian right before their next patriotic outburst:

I woke up this mornin' with the sundown shinin' in
I found my mind in a brown paper bag within
I tripped on a cloud and fell eight miles high
I tore my mind on a jagged sky
I just dropped in to see what condition my condition was in

I pushed my soul in a deep dark hole and then I followed it in
I watched myself crawlin' out as I was a-crawlin' in
I got up so tight I couldn't unwind
I saw so much I broke my mind
I just dropped in to see what condition my condition was in

Someone painted "April Fool" in big black letters on a "Dead End" sign
I had my foot on the gas as I left the road and blew out my mind
Eight miles outta Memphis and I got no spare
Eight miles straight up downtown somewhere
I just dropped in to see what condition my condition was in
"Just Dropped In"—Kenny Rogers

Tags