Ted Nugent Did What?
No, it isn't "Bash Old Rockers" week at PJMedia.
But we need to talk about "Uncle Ted."
This isn't even about his headline-making rant at the Vegas Shot Show, in which he called President Obama a "subhuman mongrel."
Ted Nugent doesn't need puny little Canadian me to "defend" his legal right to use that expression, even though I believe we should keep the adjective "subhuman" chambered until someone more like Dr. Mengele is in our sights.
Rather, I've been thinking about Nugent all week after reading a searing takedown of Woody Allen and his Hollywood sycophants by Gavin McInnes. (EXTREME language warning.)
McInnes has children; I do not -- hence the "EXTREME language warning," probably. That is: This difference likely colors my feelings about Allen, which remain frustratingly ambiguous and were better reflect by this piece in, yes, The Onion.
That's because Woody Allen, like the Monty Python gang, were a gargantuan part of my often otherwise unpleasant childhood.
Allen's impact was deeper, though, because his movies gave me a glimpse into another possible world, in which intelligent, creative people enjoyed deep yet witty conversations in gorgeous urban environs.
The scene in Annie Hall, in which Allen's character travels back in time to his public school, surveys his unpromising looking classmates and declares, "Even then, I knew they were just jerks" literally changed my life.
I don't remember my first kiss, but can easily recall that moment in the darkened downtown movie theater around my 13th birthday. I finally felt... understood.
An orphaned duckling imprints on the first creature it sees, however ridiculous its cloying affection for that indifferent St. Bernard looks to us.
And as far as I know, that imprinting can't be reversed.
I could probably rewire my brain to hate Woody Allen, or any of the other dubious individuals who "imprinted" themselves on my impressionable young mind.
The thing is: I'm not sure I feel like bothering.