A debate is raging throughout the conservative blogosphere: is Bill Ayers’ confession to a random conservative blogger going to take down Obama or take down liberalism?
asked—what are you doing in D.C. Mr. Ayers?
For a moment I thought he might be on my flight back to Chicago. Charming. Initially I guess he thought I was laying claim to his coffee or something. He gave me an uneasy cheesy smile when he realized I was taking his picture. I asked him if he was speaking at GW? (Only I said GFW, guess I had the VFW on my mind) He said oh you mean GW, he said no…was trying to decide if I was a fan, then said he was giving a lecture in Arlington to a Renaissance group on education—that’s what I do, education—you shouldn’t believe everything you hear about me, you know nothing about me. I said, I know plenty—I’m from Chicago, a conservative blogger, and I’ll post this. (Oh, yeah, Bill Ayers, quite the Renaissance man, nail-bomber extraordinaire. Gee, I see another friend of Barack, U.S. Sec. of Education Arne Duncan was there too. “The conference theme is “A Time for Reflection, Celebration and Rebirth.” How touching. At best, useless, at worst, so wrong.)
Then, unprompted he said—I wrote Dreams From My Father. I said, oh, so you admit it. He said—Michelle asked me to. I looked at him. He seemed eager. He’s about my height, short. He went on to say—and if you can prove it, we can split the royalties. So I said, stop pulling my leg. Horrible thought. But he came again—I really wrote it, the wording was similar. I said I believe you probably heavily edited it. He said—I wrote it. I said—why would I believe you, you’re a liar.
“Choppy sentences. Seems to communicate honesty. Straight from the horse’s mouth - the ass’s mouth, she said. That’s what she said. There’s a cruller. Cruller, a strange word. French? Don’t know. Bill Ayers has on Rockports. The man has likely never seen rocks or ports. Chicagoan.”
- The Extended Works of Backyard Conservative and/or Peggy Noonan
Now, I’m not entirely sure how any sentient human being wouldn’t understand they’re being played here. On the level of Fucking With You, this may be the laziest and most transparent attempt ever recorded to fuck with someone, on the level of your walking up to a drunk person, holding a piece of cardboard with the word “police badge” on it, and telling them that you’re taking them to jail for crimes against sexy.
What’s even funnier is when her commenters start demanding photographic evidence that she was in the airport, because really, that Bill Ayers wrote Dreams From My Father is beyond all doubt. You prove things through metadata, people, not through evidence. And as such, I do not think that the Bible was ever actually written, because we have no pictures of Luke sitting at the Nazareth Starbucks.
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Well of course you don’t Jesse! Luke was a total hipster and wouldn’t be caught dead in a Starbucks! He did all his work at Ashes to Ashes, Beans to Grinds a locally owned and locally run cafe.