Today I was checking the word, “Limbaughed,” and ran across a comment in reply to one I had left about Apple computers, which mentioned people who sit on their “Limbaughed” butts. It was on the occasion of the sale of the one millionth iPhone. Of course I meant fat asses, but somebody took me to task about how much Limbaugh loves Apple computers. He said he didn’t know what I meant by the expression. I guess I should expand on the “Limbaughed” butt, if that’s possible.

The first result on Google for the word, “Limbaughed,” was from the Urban Dictionary, and the definition was to be high on pills. The reply to my thoughtless use of the word was in the top ten search results. The guy was nice about it, he just assumed that I was saying something about Limbaugh being negative toward Apple computers. I am totally ignorant of that because my exposure to Limbaugh’s radio show was only long enough to realize that what he really likes to do is beat people up, and to justify indulging this impulse he gathers selective evidence by which he can make them not just unimportant, but deserving of his perverse attentions. It's sort of like a crooked cop planting evidence on somebody he thinks needs to go down.

Satire is a murder weapon, and Limbaugh is an attack dog. And the funny thing is he’s on AM Radio, which most people moved on from a long time ago. It's like doing social anthropology to revisit it. But a whole bunch of people are still there, like a secret underground organization united by Radio Free Redneck. Except that the rednecks were union men and these are definitely not union men. They are the company’s hired guns, with whom it's partly business and partly pleasure.

But I’m rambling on about satire when I was going to define a term, to wit, Limbaughed Ass. What makes this ass different from a run of the mill, generic ass? It’s larger of course, designed to provide sustenance during prolonged drought and hold a subdued purse snatcher immobilized until mall security arrives. But a large ass isn’t necessarily committing aesthetic suicide. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, after all. No, it's more complex than aesthetics. It touches more on the brain ass connection, and the self destructive impulse cleverly disguised as self-righteous anger.

But aesthetic suicide is a social thing. How would the ass commit actual, physical suicide?

The cheeks would weld together, abandoning their duality to conspire against the asshole's having access to the sea; it would be, in the end, strangulation by other means, a long, slow, drawn out and torturous murder scene, much like this sentence.

There is an alternative to the conspiracy theory, and that is the dominant hemisphere aggression model. The right ass cheek might move aggressively against the left and get a choke hold on it, like a pit bull on a wandering pork chop. The jaw locks in place. You might blow some snuff up the pit's nose and make him sneeze but otherwise the two are as one. The question then comes down, in the end, to, are the ass cheeks conspiring, or is one aggressive and the other dogged into submission?

What happens when one cheek, through aggressive expansion, becomes a solid mass of pure ass? The asshole is isolated and probably suffers intense anxiety as the colon backs up. The esophagus has a troubling dream about a volcano erupting. Things turn on their heads. Function begins to follow form.

Holy crap.

The ass is not really to blame for this predicament. Any student of magic knows that the foundational dictate is: As above, so below. So the sealing of the asshole by a single larded, impenetrable mass actually begins in the skull casement, which contains two brains. One of them, the right brain, controls the left hip. The left brain controls the right hip. This is why conservatives look left when they fart whereas liberals glance to the right in the same circumstance. This reverses in the southern hemisphere.

The difference between the two brains can be simply explained. The left brain, and the right side of the body, is patterned thought. Anything that is thought or said from that side of the brain is a repeating pattern, as in alphabetic language for example. The right side of the brain, and left side of the body, doesn’t have time for abstractions. There, everything happens for the first time every time. It is a zen monk hearing the bell anew each time, even if it sounds at a predictable interval. As soon as there is habituation, there is a pattern, and it can be done by the left brain and its servant, the right hand.

The more left brained a person is the more habituated he or she is. Because it might be perceived as being pretty unconscious to say they are habituated and can only run along like a train on its track, they prefer to be called conservative. George Bush exemplified this affliction perfectly, being unable to change with shifting realities on the ground because he could not bear to abandon consistency. The polite term is ideologue.

“A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds, adored by little statesmen and philosophers and divines.” (Ralph Waldo Emerson)

When a person does not recognize his or her dual nature, the right and left, yin and yang, sky spirit and earth nature, one side can get so powerful it turns on the other thinking it will destroy it. Witness Dr. Strangelove’s right hand trying to choke him to death. This aggression of the right side against the left side is the beginning of the process ultimately resulting in the Limbaughed Ass, as what could previously only be imagined solidifies into materiality.

The left side is really very shy, especially contrasted with the certainty of the part which makes up the rules, which is why conscience is often referred to as a “wee small voice.” To listen to conscience requires silence. The Dali Lama, steeped in meditation and reconciliation of opposites, can drop a turd with the accuracy of a smart bomb.

He who speaks does not know and he who knows does not speak. (This quote from Lao-Tzu addresses the nature of the two minds.)

Posted: Thu - April 2, 2009 at 06:09 PM