You Failed the Trials for the Human Race: Howie Carr

I never thought I’d write these words, but I’m a big enough man to admit it: I owe Wallace Matthews an apology.

Mind you, I still think he’s one of the worst writers on the planet. But I also thought he was one of the worst human beings on the planet. I stand corrected. He has been dwarfed in hideousness by Howie Carr, a “writer” for the Boston Herald.

Matthews is cranky and joyless and seems to take pleasure in raining on parades. But he has not, to the best of my knowledge, actually caused anyone harm–or really wished harm on others. Howie Carr, on the other hand, wants people to starve.

Carr is a reprehensible right-wing talk radio windbag on Boston’s WRKO (against his will, apparently). He lies somewhere in the Venn intersection of Bob Grant, Morton Downey Jr., and a playground bully, filling his shows with Code Word Bigotry and seething anti-gay invective.

He also writes columns for the Boston Herald. You’ve probably never read the Herald unless you’ve had to line a birdcage in the greater New England area. It’s basically an angrier, more overtly racist version of the NY Post, aimed squarely at the Tommy from Quinzee set.

In this latter capacity, he authored a piece that appeared in Sunday’s Herald, “Shed no tears as Boston Globe fat gets Pinched”. I was alerted to its poisonous existence by the justifiably angry tweeting of BP’s Will Carroll.

As you may know, there’s a very good chance the Boston Globe will close down very soon. I’m ambivalent about the future of newspapers myself. And I have to cop to a snotty tweet I tapped out on Monday about how no more Globe would (hopefully) mean no more Dan Shaughnessy.

But I think we can all agree that the shuttering of the Globe would be sad. Not only because it’s a storied daily with a long history, but because it would put a lot of people out of work–very few of whom are responsible for the paper’s financial woes. It would also leave Boston with only one newspaper: the reprehensible Herald.

So again, I think we can all agree that the Globe’s imminent closing is a very bad, very sad thing.

Wait, we can’t all agree with that? Apparently not, according to Carr. He’s dancing on a grave that hasn’t even been dug yet. Why? Because the Globe is a liberal newspaper, owned by the NY Times Corp., and therefore is worse than Hitler in his book.

Keep in mind as you read these excerpts that Carr writes for the Globe‘s rival paper, and that no newspapers are doing well right now. So his insane, petty, vindictive Schadenfreude makes about as much karmic sense as the head of GM crowing about Chrysler’s bankruptcy.

The Boston Globe is dying this weekend, one way or the other. It probably lingers on a while longer, on life support, a Terri Schiavo of journalism, but this comedy is ending the way it was destined to.

Here’s what you learn on Day One of journalism school: If you want the reader to know you’re an insensitive shitheel as soon as possible, mention Terry Schiavo in your first paragraph. It will also signal that you like your references to be as stale as possible, just like another cowardly conservative, Dennis Miller.

Sorry, comrades. The Velvet Coffin is being shoved into the crematorium. Maybe you can get a job from Barack Obama.

OH, BURN!!1! Check and mate! That’d be like, if I found Howie Carr was gonna lose his job, I said, “Why don’t you see if Satan is hiring?”

They’ll need to set up a makeshift morgue in the newsroom. Five science reporters? Whatever they do, they’re not going to be doing it anymore. The Globe “magazine” is skinnier than a CVS circular. See ya!

You stupid science writers, writing about your stupid science! HOW’S SCIENCE GONNA SAVE YOU NOW, YA LOSERS?! You shoulda gotten on the same beat as me: Unfocused Hatred and Race Baiting! Thems is bull markets! Especially in Boston!

I know, they can’t brag enough about their Pulitzer prizes, like they’re on the level or something.

Yeah, what is a Pulitzer but some prestigious prize awarded to journalists by juries of their peers for almost a hundred years? I’d wipe my ass with a Pulitzer if anyone would let me within 50 feet of one.

Seriously, the limousine liberals who pass the Politically Correct Pulitzers around among themselves every spring ought to rename them the Olbermanns and run the awards ceremony live on MSNBC. Truth in advertising.

Howie Carr should know. He’s the winner of 12 Hannitys for willful distortion and weasly
fearmongering in journalism. Why can’t he win a Pulitzer? Cuz he’s too real. The Pulitzers are all like, “whoah, dude, you can’t say that!” And he’s like, “Watch me!”

If Chuck Norris had a typewriter, he’d be Howie Carr. And he’d also hit Pulitzer winners in the face in his typewriter, no questions asked. He’d probably challenge imaginary mobsters to fights, too.

Belatedly, the Globe has been trying to present as its public face the salt-of-the-earth types in the backshop, guys who live in towns like Weymouth and went to work at the paper out of high school.

These are the same blue-collar Massachusetts natives that the
bow-tied bumkissers upstairs alternately disdain or despise as
mean-spirited bigots who can’t be trusted to vote the “right way.”

Thanks for not presenting any actual evidence of class hatred, Howie. Your anecdotes and broadly-drawn stereotypes will suffice. I mean, it’s not like you’re a journalist who writes for a newspaper or anything like that.

I’m surprised you stopped with these mild caricatures. Why didn’t you depict the Globe editors as bloated porcine monsters sitting on huge moneybags, lighting cigars with 100 dollar bills, throwing pennies down to those poor, tired “Massachusetts native” slobs? (Of course, they can do whatever they want to the dumb schmucks from Rhode Island or New Hampshire. Fuck those guys!)

Also, thanks for throwing in some gratuitous homophobia in that paragraph, just to clarify what an intolerant, hate-filled douche you are. (“Bow-tied bumkisser” is Howie’s favorite effeminizing epithet, which he uses to such an enormous extent that he must have a fetish for bowties or bumkissing. Or both. Try not to think about that too hard; Howie obviously hasn’t.)

Outside the employees themselves and a few limp bloggers, nobody cares about the Globe’s demise. Let the epitaph be: Smug Is Not a Workable Business Plan. These pampered poodles assumed they had a monopoly. Nobody ever has a monopoly, at least not for long.

Of course, your paper will have a monopoly when the Globe closes down. I look forward to the complete lack of monopoly-hating columns you’ll write once the Herald is the only game in town.

As for limp bloggers, there are probably several thousand blogs whose ad revenues outpace the Herald‘s. So if they’re limp, then you pricks must be Super-Flaccid.

One last thing to all my dear friends on the Boulevard.

We’re not hiring.

Ha! I see no way, in this economy and this media environment, that this statement could come back to bite you in your tightly clenched, pasty ass.

Wallace Matthews, you still suck immensely, but you’re not even in this cancerous little fuck’s league. Please accept my heartfelt apologies.

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