The boss comes in every morning in a huff, cussing, laughing and ruefully shaking his head. He has just heard the latest, and can’t wait to be the one to spread it around. I groan inwardly and feign interest, because I know what is coming.
“Did you see what Obama did yesterday?” He says. I knew that it would be about Obama because it is always about Obama. I wonder, halfheartedly what he railed about before Obama came on the scene, but of course I know. Clinton. Or whichever “Demoncrat” Fox News told him to worry about that day. He is capable of hateful insight, but needs direction. And these days he is not alone. I wonder in amazement how so many people in the course of a day can repeat and believe something that is demonstrably false and reveals itself to be so after thirty seconds worth of reasoning. Or at least a short Google search.
“Did you see what Obama did yesterday?” He says. I knew that it would be about Obama because it is always about Obama. I wonder, halfheartedly what he railed about before Obama came on the scene, but of course I know. Clinton. Or whichever “Demoncrat” Fox News told him to worry about that day. He is capable of hateful insight, but needs direction. And these days he is not alone. I wonder in amazement how so many people in the course of a day can repeat and believe something that is demonstrably false and reveals itself to be so after thirty seconds worth of reasoning. Or at least a short Google search.
Dit-Dit, Dot-Dot.
I call it the Bubba Telegraph. Bubba because it is mostly, but hardly exclusively southern, like the remnants of the political party that successfully practiced it for so long. And the boss is the primary conduit.
“I can’t believe that the sonofabitch bowed to that Arab over there. What does he think he is doing?” I want to ask him whether it would be better to kiss and hold hands with him, like his hero did, but think better of it. Like most people in the post W world, I need the work.
“And he gave the Queen an IPOD. AN IPOD! And it was full of videos of his speeches. Can you believe the gall?” It would be hard to convince him that the unit was full of highlights of her recent trip to the United States, when he was still a junior U.S. Senator. The story was not true, but that did not matter. What mattered was that it was true enough. The fact that it had, as Colbert likes to say, certain “truthiness” to it is good enough for the Bubba Telegraph. Accuracy is not important. What is important is the way that it makes people feel. If they feel like the uppity boy from the projects is acting too big for his britches, then a story that reinforces it is just what the doctor ordered.
So why not try to correct the mistaken assumptions? It should be easy to do, just relate the facts, or point them in the right direction to find out for themselves. It really should be easy, but it is not. Having tried repeatedly, I run into this undeniable fact. They don’t want to know the truth. And that is the genius of the Bubba Telegraph’s circular logic. If you hear it from something other than the telegraph, don’t trust it. The great Liberal Media is out to discredit the very things that we believe in, and if you don’t believe it, just listen to the telegraph for proof.
The boss doesn’t limit his scorn and hatred to the president, either. Did you know that Michelle is just as bad, if not worse? The boss calls her the “First Bitch”, and she has just purchased a swing set for her kids. “She put it right on the White House lawn, one of those plastic ones, like you get at Wal-Mart.”
The fact that it is a very nice addition to the people’s house, and is not in any way cheap or plastic, or likely to have come from the local super center is lost on him. He heard it, and it must be true.
The news travels fast, and it gets passed around in record time. Fox, Walton and Johnson, Rush, Hannity, Laura, Bill, and back to Fox. It flows from the lobby of the hotel in Birmingham to the sales office in Oklahoma City. Have you heard the latest? You’re not going to believe this!
“I can’t believe that the sonofabitch bowed to that Arab over there. What does he think he is doing?” I want to ask him whether it would be better to kiss and hold hands with him, like his hero did, but think better of it. Like most people in the post W world, I need the work.
“And he gave the Queen an IPOD. AN IPOD! And it was full of videos of his speeches. Can you believe the gall?” It would be hard to convince him that the unit was full of highlights of her recent trip to the United States, when he was still a junior U.S. Senator. The story was not true, but that did not matter. What mattered was that it was true enough. The fact that it had, as Colbert likes to say, certain “truthiness” to it is good enough for the Bubba Telegraph. Accuracy is not important. What is important is the way that it makes people feel. If they feel like the uppity boy from the projects is acting too big for his britches, then a story that reinforces it is just what the doctor ordered.
So why not try to correct the mistaken assumptions? It should be easy to do, just relate the facts, or point them in the right direction to find out for themselves. It really should be easy, but it is not. Having tried repeatedly, I run into this undeniable fact. They don’t want to know the truth. And that is the genius of the Bubba Telegraph’s circular logic. If you hear it from something other than the telegraph, don’t trust it. The great Liberal Media is out to discredit the very things that we believe in, and if you don’t believe it, just listen to the telegraph for proof.
The boss doesn’t limit his scorn and hatred to the president, either. Did you know that Michelle is just as bad, if not worse? The boss calls her the “First Bitch”, and she has just purchased a swing set for her kids. “She put it right on the White House lawn, one of those plastic ones, like you get at Wal-Mart.”
The fact that it is a very nice addition to the people’s house, and is not in any way cheap or plastic, or likely to have come from the local super center is lost on him. He heard it, and it must be true.
The news travels fast, and it gets passed around in record time. Fox, Walton and Johnson, Rush, Hannity, Laura, Bill, and back to Fox. It flows from the lobby of the hotel in Birmingham to the sales office in Oklahoma City. Have you heard the latest? You’re not going to believe this!
Dit-Dit, Dot-Dot.
