A fabulous take down of John McCain

Wish I'd written this.

What I most savor about John McCain's recent statement, "I never considered myself a maverick," is that it one of those passing utterances that show a pure and unspoiled contempt for the listener. There are big lies in this world and small ones; there are half-truths, shades of gray, minor factual fender-benders and spectacular wrecks of truthiness, and then there are those statements that exist only to demonstrate the absolute mastery of the speaker over his own version of reality, one that you, as a listener, are most emphatically not privy to. There is no point to the statement, and no profound advantage in saying it or not saying it. It is not something to be fact checked or tittered at. It is merely there, a dangling, glistening drop of verbal drool from a smiling, unimpeachably honest mouth. It is a blown kiss directed at you, the listener, whether you want it or not. It is a tiny act of intellectual assault; a minor act of thuggery sandwiched between one magazine page and the next; a noble monument erected by the speaker to himself so that the rest of you pissant little tyrants, you dime-store dictators of the lower classes, can look upon his greatest works and know your own place. The most precise translation is something like screw you, listener.