Fellows! To the ramparts! Our own beloved fair maiden of the Washington Post editorial page is under attack most foul, and from the most treacherous quarters! Those treacherous traitors being the former ombudsman of the Washington Post! Dudes, he calls her "ugly"! Look, right there:
The Ugly
Jennifer Rubin.
Sure, it purports to be an open letter to Jeff Bezos or someone about what to do with his new fishwrappy plaything. But it is marked throughout with unkindest cuts!
Have Fred Hiatt, your editorial page editor—who I like, admire, and respect—fire opinion blogger Jennifer Rubin. Not because she’s conservative, but because she’s just plain bad. She doesn’t travel within a hundred miles of Post standards. She parrots and peddles every silly right-wing theory to come down the pike in transparent attempts to get Web hits. Her analysis of the conservative movement, which is a worthwhile and important beat that the Post should treat more seriously on its national pages, is shallow and predictable. Her columns, at best, are political pornography; they get a quick but sure rise out of the right, but you feel bad afterward.
We will stop blockquoting there and let you go read it for yourself, because "best practices or some bullshit." But how -- HOW!!!!! -- could this ombudsdude say Jennifer Rubin is BAD AT HER JOB???
Well, okay, she called John Bolton of the Terrifying Mustachios a 2016 contender -- approvingly!
And there was this deeply weird thing about George W. Bush.
And this was gross, about Barack Obama's "petulance."
And there was this fucking babble -- one in a one hundred and seventy seven part series -- about the Invincible Sir Mittens Galahad, until the day after he lost and then she was all "oh by the way everything I ever wrote about the Invincible Sir Mittens Galahad was a balls-out lie, haha, I am adorable."
Hmmm, this crusade for Jennifer Rubin's honor seems to have worked out less well than we thought. Sort of like any column by Jennifer Rubin : (
[ CityPaper ]
maybe we can lock Rubin, Will, Cohen and Krauthammer in an empty room together with some rusty box cutters and a chainsaw stashed in the corner- then tell them that only one of them gets to keep their job, they get to pick who that is...
"Post fappum omne animal triste est, sive gallus et mulier." It's a guy thing, apparently.