O thou beslubbering, clay-witted lewdsters of the radical right...

I've posted this before -- with the title "The reeky swag-bellied moldwarps of the radical right..." Thanks to Robert Leuci, who dug it up from somewhere and commented on it today, I'm delighted to republish it. It's got a new title, though, with a certain reference to the various sexual activities and hypocrisies of the Right. Not the least of these: McCain's treatment of his ex-wife, which led Ross Perot to call him "unusually slick and cruel." (Perot ain't Shakespeare or Johnson, but in this case, I'll settle for the 21st century language he uses to damn the man.)

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I am overwhelmed daily with indignation, dudgeon, outrage. The passion leaves me spluttering and in search of fresh invective. Thus: recourse to the linguistic flourishes of the 16th and 17th centuries, a rough-and-tumble time for the language of insult if ever there was one.

Earlier in these pages I cited Samuel Johnson.

Today I have invoked choice epithets from this menu of Shakespearean shafts. Lay on!