Dispatches from the National Topsider

Any blog post that begins, “Summer once again tiptoes in on crepe soles to the eastern extremities of Long Island; affording, as is its wont, fresh opportunities to enjoy the providence of nature and the financial acumen of one’s forebears” is certainly well worth checking out. Particularly when it involves the man, the myth, the legend in Iowahawk’s fertile mind, the great T. Coddington Van Voorhees VII, Intellectual Conservative At-Large, who’s “Beginning to Believe This Obama Fellow Is Unequal to the Task:”

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Summer once again tiptoes in on crepe soles to the eastern extremities of Long Island; affording, as is its wont, fresh opportunities to enjoy the providence of nature and the financial acumen of one’s forebears. Despite the looming spectre of global climate change the lawn is verdant and lush, and my gardener Hideo informs me the hibiscuses are in especially fine fettle. Much to the relief of his mother (if not the household staff) young T. Coddington VIII has returned from Quonsocket Prep and Rehabilitation Center. I am pleased to announce he has made significant strides in overcoming the acute arson disability that so plagued his sophomore academic marks, and thus his matriculation as a member of Harvard ’15 is all but assured. And, if you will forgive a note of personal triumph, I also find myself in the midst of a career renaissance as the leading conservative thinker on the scourge and embarrassment of conservative extremism.

This solstitial season should then, by all rights, occasion in a conservative centrist like myself a deep sense of satisfaction — if not outright contemptuous pity for the jejune editorial boobs of The National Topsider who some 18 months ago unceremoniously dismissed my services following my prescient endorsement of Barack Obama. Thanks to the good conservative breeding instilled in me by my late father, swashbuckling Topsider founder T. Coddington Van Voorhees VI, I am happily above such base emotions. Living well, as they say, is the best revenge; particularly when underwritten by royalty checks from the New York Times, the Washington Post, Newsweek, and the other top-tier periodicals unintimidated by trenchant critiques of the soi-dissant ‘Tea Party’ idiots. Rather than basking in the deserved status of a conservative man in full, however, I instead find this the summer of my discontent. Each day seems to introduce some new crisis on the world scene with hints of more to come, and one is left to wonder if even our elegant young President’s oratorical and tonsorial gifts are equal to the challenges ahead.

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As you’ll read, Coddington is friends with Kathleen Parker; clearly if CNN needs a guest for those days when Eliot Spitzer isn’t just a commentator, but also a client, clearly, there can be only one man they should contact to guest host, if only to keep, as the L.A. Times puts it, this “politically polarized pairing” polarized.

(No really! That’s what L.A. Times wrote in describing Parker and Spitzer. Since when did they start impinging upon Iowahawk’s satiric turf?)

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