My name is Neal Pollack, and I'm a blogger.

October 17, 2002

My name is Neal Pollack, and I'm a blogger.

As I reported in a space slightly below this one a couple of days ago, I have finally given up on my PC, which has been spouting pro-Palestinian rhetoric for weeks now. My anti-virus scan can do nothing to stop it. The last straw came on Monday, when my screen saver suddenly morphed into a picture of a naked Howell Raines skipping merrily arm-in-arm with Yasir Arafat across a field of poppies. Seemingly, the anti-war left is doing whatever it can to censor voices of truth. So, I've switched to a Mac.

What a delightful decision! I've only been using this new Macintosh computer for seven hours, but I already feel freer to express my hard-fought learned opinions than ever before. The graphic interface is simple yet coherent. The keyboard is just the right size for my small hands, yet just the right texture for their rough-hewn-ness. And I simply love the built-in penis port, which is adjustable. A virtual teabagging unit costs only $99, and an "air" port can also be purchased, and I think I'll get one as soon as that check from the Manchester Weasel arrives. Really. You should all go buy Macs as soon as possible. They are politically neutral, perfectly rational machines. If George Orwell had worked on a computer (and can anyone doubt that he would have had his own blog), he would have definitely used a Mac.

Speaking of the great muse of proper thought, the questions are coming in for myself, Hitch, Sully, and Andrew W.K. at the rate of one every six hours. We are having trouble keeping up, but still encourage you to let this feature percolate. It's proving very popular with the cognosenti, who should know.

Jim Arndorfer, of Chicago, writes, "Was Orwell being antisemitic by posing pigs as the oppressors in Animal Farm?"

CH: Your question is beneath contempt. It is the lowest form of argument. If you can't see past the basic fallacy in the central premise of your line of inquiry, then I can't even begin to debate you. This interpretation of Orwell, which has long been discredited, was first hatched by Lionel Trilling, whose reputation declines with every wisp of sunlight that streams through my Jakarta hotel room. Ohhh! My aching head! Steward, bring me some fucking whiskey!

Jim asks Sully, "What was your most Orwell moment?"

AS: I am most proud of standing up against the New York Times after they refused to publish my piece, In Defense of Faggotry: A Conservative Argument For Slanderous Namecalling. But in general, since September 11, 2001, I have been the walking reincarnation of Orwell on earth, only I dress better.

Blimat asks: "Tim Blair, Tony Blair, Eric Blair? Coincidence or insidious conspiracy?"

NP: Don't forget Blair from The Facts of Life. Or Blair Underwood, or Blair Brown, star of The Days And Nights of Molly Dodd.

CH: Shut up, Pollack, you twit.

AS: Don't trivialize this situation. The world is at war!

"While we are on the subject," blimat writes, "Lena Olin and Katrina vanden Heuvel are indeed babes."

AWK:
We're not gonna die
You can never kill us
We're not gonna die
You can never hurt us

We dent, We rob
We choke, We gun
We kill, We stab
We rob, We steal

Party 'til you puke...

GO!...

NP: Indeed.

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