loosie: words: Exposed!

Exposed!

Loosie confronts "Journalist" Jeff Gannon and other imposters.

by B.D. | 2005.02.10

Welcome to 2005 -- it’s getting Goebbelsy up in this yatch. Pundits are on the propaganda payroll, commercials for the President’s social programs are being paid for with tax dollars and the corporate media makes anti-Administration stories vanish like cans of Beef-a-Roni in the Missy Elliot household. The newest revelation is that “Jeff Gannon” (real name James Guckert), a man tied to military male prostitution websites, has been masquerading as a journalist in the White House press corps in order to push Republican talking points and give Bush spokesperson Mike McClellan a lifeline when authentic reporters catch the scent of blood. Since being outed in more ways than one, Gannon has resigned from his “job” and scrubbed his personal site, blog and AOL profile of all content.

A brief history of the brewing scandal: Gannon, who crafted his flimsy house of lies with the mortar of mistruth on a foundation of fraudulence, recently became the subject of widespread attention and derision after serving up a Byung-Hyun Kim hanging curve at Bush’s press conference on January 26th. Eschewing actual questions from actual writers from actual publications, Dubya eagerly fielded a query from Gannon that was literally a revamped Rush Limbaugh quote with a question mark stapled obligatorily on the end. A subsequent investigation from readers of dailykos.com into the obvious lapdoggery rooted out plenty of interesting morsels: large sections of Gannon’s “articles” were copy-pasted from White House press releases, someone (Karl Rove?) leaked him classified CIA documents in the Niger Yellowcake Plame-Exposure jumpoff and his media outlet, Talon News, is less reputable and more poorly written than Loosie-dot-motherfucking-com. Ironically, it was discovered that Gannon, who wrote several gay-baiting “articles” for Talon including one describing John Kerry as possibly "the first gay president", owned web-urls for gay sites such as militaryescortsm4m.com and hotmilitarystud.com. Adding gasoline to the hibachi, an AOL profile picture was unearthed showing a shirtless Gannon posing in his briefs shot with the caption “still sexy after all these years”.

While this episode reminds us yet again that most rabid conservatives are self-loathing homosexuals who troll the internet for sculpted manflesh, we must remember that his Bush-coddled disinformation racket is the story, not the online hustling. Without further exposition, we unveil a few other frauds who have been making the news.

Pseudonym: Thomas Friedman
Real Name: Young Pangloss
Evidence: For every bit of foul news that comes rocketing out of the Middle East with the force of a 6-inch nail stuffed in a roadside explosive, Friedman is ready to respond with a cautiously feel-good New York Times column gushing about the spread of freedom. If a bird with a “USA RuLeZ” belly tat swooped down from the heavens and gouged out the eyes of an Iraqi toddler, Friedman would scribe about the creature’s graceful ascent into the crimson desert twilight as something resplendent. His uncanny ability to find the scabby lice-ridden hopers and dreamers in every war-torn corner of the globe allows us cynical gloom 'n' doomists to see the smiley face of ill-conceived and chuckleheaded imperialist destruction. If only Thomas could bring his brand of optimism back stateside; our collective souls could be massaged by his report about the stellar reception of the cell phone poached from pocket of the still-warm actress murked in the LES.

Pseudonym: Virginia
Real Name: Alabama
Evidence: Something’s bubbling down in VA – they’ve got “traditional marriage” slogans on license plates and legislation in the works to make sagging jeans and exposed underwear against the law. Granted, they were Confederacy-runnin’ rebels during the Civil War, but we figured they were still northern enough avoid the lunacy that quarts of bathtub moonshine and Mason-Dixon sunstroke conspire to conjure up. Real talk: anyone dwelling in a Red State is officially a one-eared dog with Down’s syndrome and we seriously don't have time for your antics anymore.

Pseudonym: The Game
Real Name: Access Hollywood Host Pat O’Brien
Evidence: After selling 600,000 copies of his debut album,The Documentary, The Game has pretty much been exposed as a Page 6 shill who can’t get celebrities’ names out of his screwfaced mouth. If you’re heard the LP, you know lines like “see me sitting on chrome, Carrot Top riding shotty/ Anna Wintour, Von Hayes, Mr. Peanut, Victoria Gotti” have no place in Hip-Hop unless burbled by someone wearing a metal mask and clutching a German beer in his pudgy paw. Somewhere in a seedy hotel room above a bowling alley, former Dr. Dre protégé Hitman is looping a noose around a rafter and cursing his lack of personality. Sidenote: the office pool for when Xzibit offs himself of carbon monoxide poisoning in the Pimp Yer Ride garage is currently at $345.

Pseudonym: Playoff Freddie Mitchell
Real Name: Freddie Mitchell
Evidence: It was all good just a week ago for Freddie Mitchell, Eagles wide-receiver and former first-round draft pick out of UCLA. With a pair of touchdowns against the Viking in the playoffs, everyone forgot that The People’s Champ was an underachieving role-player who happens to be a fantastic source of comic relief. Even though he’s frequently seen in public with Jaleel White, the ravenous Super Bowl media machine decided to use Fred-Ex’s comments about the Patriot’s defensive backfield as further evidence of New England’s plight of eternal under-appreciation (obviously, the magazine covers, dynasty chatter, comparisons of coach Bill Belichek to Vince Lombardi and quarterback Tom Brady to Joe Montana, and touchdown point spread were not enough). After one catch in the big game, Hollywood Mitchell returns to his proper role as Philly’s 26th offensive option and The Patriots can masturbate furiously to the tiresome discussion about being a disrespected championship team that puts egos on the backburner. Guzzle varnish, Bruschi.