What's Red And White And Dumb All Over

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Memo to the RedState Strike Force: I HATE BEST BUY GIFT CARDS.

As I've mentioned before, one of the simultaneously great joys and horrific lows of the presidency of Barack Obama will be watching the right cast itself in its own version of "Amerika". Those of you who have blissfully forgotten the ABC miniseries can substitute "Red Dawn" as your cultural referent, but let's face it, these douchenozzles aren't up to the rigid standards required for an 80's theatrical-release action movie.

It should come as no shock to you that the same marshmallow-laden crews who thought they were serving in Iraq because they typed scathing diatribes about Jack Murtha while wearing a beret they got out of the clearance bin of the military supply shop are taking the Obama ascendancy particularly delusionally. And nowhere is this more delusional than at RedState, where proprietor Erick Erickson has formed, and this comes with the official YAD guarantee of me not shitting you, the RedState Strike Force.

What, pray tell, is the RedState Strike Force? Is it, as its hastily-Photoshopped logo would like us to believe, an elite cadre of conservative bloggers? A Delta Force without the delts? What kind of men would emblazon themselves with such a shield, whose crimson half sports a compass straight out of Wingdings, and whose snowy-white half features the initials "RS" in whatever Windows system font Erickson had handy that day (possibly Verdana)? A man sporting such bold iconography must be one of a carefully-selected few, and capable of the most extreme acts in the defense of American freedom.

The daunting obstacle course that a RedState reader must complete in order to become a member of the RedState Strike Force is, I am forced to admit, technically not a course. Nor does it contain anything that is traditionally considered an obstacle. But they must navigate a web-form containing nine fields, and a mere two of those contain drop-down boxes. That's a hellacious amount of typing to do in one sitting, and I hope they kept a pack of Twinkies handy to help them get their second wind between "State" and "Zip Code".

Once you're a member of the RedState Strike Force, you will receive missives via encoded* electronic transmission straight from Strike Force HQ. Already, the Strike Force has engaged in several missions. Just listen to this progress report from Erickson. ACTUAL QUOTE TIME!

"We’ve had several missions for the RedState Army of Activists. You probably haven’t noticed as we’ve primarily directed them to individual states." Erickson is too modest by half. I have it on excellent authority that Operation Canadian Girlfriend resulted in Erickson performing sexual intercourse not once, but twice, over winter break. And while two Strike Force members are in the hospital and the snipe escaped capture at the last possible moment, Operation Thunderbolt Whipcrack Tango should still be considered a psychological victory.

With two training missions under their low-hanging belts, the Strike Force was ready for its first public, national campaign. Erickson put out the call to the dozens of people on the Strike Force mailing list, and then, in an act that totally did not undermine the idea of a sign-up-to-get-missions Strike Force at all, posted the request on the RedState blog too. This HTML will self-destruct in five... four... three...

"Meet Kent Williams. He is allegedly a Republican in Tennessee. The GOP took the State House in Tennessee and rallied to one of their own to be Speaker. Williams had other plans. He made a deal with the Democrats, betrayed the Republicans, and got himself elected Speaker. He then put a Democrat in the number two spot... It’s clear he’s a weak mind and will be putty in the hands of the Democrats... send Kent Williams some silly putty. Let’s put in his hands a pretty accurate representation of what he is."

Erickson, understanding the ambulatory limitations of his audience, provided Williams' address and a link to Amazon where the Strike Force could order two dollars' worth of Silly Putty, or two dollars and fifty four cents' worth of "Glow In The Dark Potty Putty", and then spend at least three dollars to have it mailed directly to Kent Williams, to punish him for his crime of... his crime of... well, fuck if I know. It's state-level politics, and I only follow state-level politics when some insane state rep decides to ban thongs or make the Confederate flag the official state tablecloth.

Seriously, guys. This is sad. I mean, you're like all those people who sent in bottles of Tabasco to protest the cancellation of some shitty TV show**, except that the TV show fans actually went and got their own bottles of Tabasco and taped them up in little boxes and went down to the post office to affix postage. All you're doing is sitting on your ass and changing the shipping address on the third screen of Amazon's checkout. That doesn't earn you a fucking logo. Not even the half-assed ugly one RedState made up.

If the best you can come up with is prank-shipping nostalgic kids' toys to one ostensibly-renegade Republican because he outsmarted all the other Tennessee Republicans, then maybe you should add cyanide pills to your little Amazon storefront. That way you'll have them on hand on the off-chance you get captured by the enemy. Or the even less-likely chance you have a brief moment of self-awareness.

*Technically, ASCII is an encoding scheme.

**Yes, I know it was Roswell, but can't we all enjoy the elaborate charade that I don't remember, and you don't remember either?