New Kids On The Crock

Kevin and the Rumpies are not so nice to the Daily Drudgeinton Post Caller.  But James Wolcott of Vanity Fair breaks out the plasma chainsaw made of tiny genetically altered cyborg piranhas and goes all Anton Ego on the poor f'ckers.

If the day one of Tucker Carlson's mavericky money pit The Daily Caller is any indication, the talent pool on the journalistic right has become a foot bath, or perhaps a finger bowl. It's as if P. J. O'Rourke sired a litter of smart alecks who are now all grown up and ready to take their place in the cafeteria line of the Cato Institute of Performing Arts.

There's S. E. Cupp, author of an upcoming crap about liberalism's war on religion, a tired subject for a tired people, arriving five years after John Gibson milked that particular cow with The War on Christmas. Day one of Cupp's diary, in which she introduces herself to the tea baggers drifting into the tent, seems similarly dated in its attitudes and antagonisms. "Valuing the sanctity of life, the traditional family, the 2nd Amendment, personal responsibility, low taxes and a limited government puts me at odds with the esteemed cultural taste arbiters of our great nation-like Alec Baldwin and Rosie O’Donnell," she snorts. Rosie O'Donnell left The View in 2007 and everybody loves Alec Baldwin now--get with the program. She even makes a crack about France that sounds like Jonah Goldberg in his cheese-eating surrender-monkeys heyday, when the invasion of Iraq seemed like such a fun idea.

The carnage is exquisite, like a Faberge egg made of gilded snark and wearing a little tiny smoking jacket.