Breathy Reaganite Peggy Noonan dislikes the coarseness that has crept into our public dialogue. The coarseness, she dislikes it. But there it is, in our public dialogue. Peggy Noonan did not create this world. Creating this coarseness is not something which sings to Peggy Noonan's soul. But she must acknowledge it. She is a columnist, you see. The coarseness, it is a topic of our time. "All this has devolved into a political argument about who's worse, the right or the left," sighs Peggy, metaphorically, by writing a sentence in her WSJ column. "I don't think that's the most important question, but since it's on the table the answer is the left."
Peggy Noonan did not want to get into this childish "left or right" argument. The argument, it is undignified, and coarse. But since it is "on the table," if you call Peggy Noonan's column "the table," as Peggy does, well, then, fine, Peggy will address it, this question. The left. The left is the answer, to the question of who is worse. You have dragged the answer out of Peggy. You have even forced Peggy, in a family newspaper, to include the following quote from Matt Taibbi: "When I read her stuff, I imagine her narrating her text . . . with [male genitals] in her mouth."
Male genitals. That is not the word that was used, dear reader. Trust that it was much harder, much stronger. Peggy has shielded you, from its iron blow. Now, perhaps, for a moment, forsooth, since the topic has been broached, perhaps, just perhaps, Peggy shall share some mild thoughts on the odorous issue, as an American woman who cares.
Why would the left be worse? Let me be harsh. Some left-wing men think they can talk like this because they're on the correct side on social issues such as abortion. Their attitude: "I backed you on the abortions you want so much, I opposed a ban on partial birth. Hell, I'll let you kill kids at any point until they're 15, I'm cool. And that means I can call women in public life t - - - s, right? Because, you know, I think of them that way."
T—-s. "Titts?" Help me out here. I think after backing you on all those abortions and being cool with you killing your teenagers, the least you can do is reveal this mystery slur to me. I've done so much to deserve it.
("Twats," you say? So vulgar. I won't believe it until I see it coming out of Peggy's mouth.)
You also won't want to miss Peggy's analysis of The Internet: "When anyone can say anything, anyone will. When the guy in the basement having his third Grey Goose finally got a telephone line on AOL, he found out he could take his Id out for a ride."
There's absolutely no evidence to indicate Peggy Noonan was drunk when she wrote this, or other things.