October 2nd, 2006


Just talkin' 'bout Doug!

Doug Giles, the beefy he-man preacher who leads an NFL-and-fagbashing-style church out of a Holiday Inn in Florida, has a new column up at Town Hall. I know it's cheap and easy to pick on guys like this, rather than, say, making arguments about why a flat tax or deregulation aren't good ideas; it's the equivalent of conservatives picking on the hippies at peace marches with big flaming Bush puppets. But honestly, I can't let this guy NOT get a wider audience: he provides me with some of the best laughs I get.

For fun, count how many times he clearly wants to say 'nigger'. Also, ask yourself this: whose daughter do you feel more sorry for? James Lileks' or Doug Giles'?

I was channel surfing the other day when I landed on an idiotic Reggaeton music video. It was your emblematic Stooge-a-Palooza reel.

Now, I'm going to spend a little more time on this paragraph than it warrants, because as far as I can tell, it makes no fucking sense whatsoever. Leaving aside whether or not Doug actually knows what reggaeton is, what does that last sentence mean? "Emblematic Stooge-a-Palooza reel". Let's consider.

1. I think the word Doug wants is "typical" rather than "emblematic". Because, otherwise, what is the reggaeton video emblematic of? What emblem or symbol is being invoked? The Three Stooges?

2. I guess I can forgive the suggestion of the video resembling the Three Stooges; later in the piece, it seems like he's attacking it for being degrading and sexist, but he'd probably agree that it was clownish, too, so the Stooges reference could be apt. But why "Stooge-a-Palooza"? Does he think it sounds better, rather than simply being confusing?

3. "Reel"? What is this, 1952?


The scene was typical: the “musicians” and their homies were wearing T-shirts that would be too large for Sasquatch

Thanks for the reminder that rappers can never, ever be considered musicians! I don't think Town Hall's readers can hear that often enough. Also, do we know for a fact that their t-shirts would be too large for Sasquatch? I think fact-checking is called for here.

they sported baseball caps pull downed over their ears like some Fat Albert character.

I can't figure out if he means Rudy or Dumb Donald. Some dumb ghetto Negro, at any rate.

Along with the above, these hoodlums donned the Dennis Rodman multi-necklace starter kit, cubic zirconium earrings and, of course, tennis bracelets.

Man, a Dennis Rodman joke! In 2006! That's brave, Doug.

Y’know, nothing screams, “I’m a bad ass” more than stud earrings and costume jewelry.

Unless it's wearing camouflage to deliver sermons to your congregation in the Key West Room of the Orlando Best Western.

With all their bracelets and necklaces in place, the creative geniuses launched into waving their 96-oz. beer bottles in the air like they just don’t care as they rapped/“sang”/spoke their song (?)

Doug is so confused by this jungle gibberish that he lists every possible permutation of human vocal communication, and then puts in a question mark just so we understand he doesn't get it! Man, that's writing.

The thing that floored me was not the musical gruel these dasypygals peddled, but all the gorgeous girls that were a part of the helix-missing miscreants’ music video.

Ooooh, "dasypygal"! Someone's got a word-of-the-day service.

Yeah, dozens of beautiful teens and twenty-something girls were wearing Victoria Secret boy shorts and tiny tube tops as they writhed on the ground and upon the hoods of cars as these “artists” poured beer on them, slapped their butts and simulated sex acts with somebody’s daughter.

Every time you have sex, Doug, it's with somebody's daughter. Hopefully not your own.

Which left me thinking, “Where the heck are these girls’ parents?” In particular, where are their dads?

Probably at home, reading your column and thinking, damn, I wish my daughter wasn't a legal adult, so I could force her not to do that shit".

Father, if your daughter is doing extra work on soft porn music videos, or posting sex pics on mySpace.com, or bearing it all for a Girls Gone Wild DVD, or inflating their chests to ocean buoy size proportions to appeal to the most appalling, pusillanimous pigs on the planet, then you have clearly not done your job as a father.

Does it have to be EXTRA work? What if it's just her regular work? Also, the word is "baring". I've never seen a Girls Gone Wild DVD, but my understanding is that the hook is girls taking their tops off, not carrying around heavy weights. And let's hope you're not speaking too soon, Doug; your kids still have plenty of years to abreact to your jackass parenting.

Hey sperm donor—if you bring a little girl into this world, then it is your job to make certain she’s grounded.

Uh, isn't it sort of counter-productive to argue that men have a responsibility to raise their children while using reductive terms like "sperm donor"?

I’ve got two daughters. One is about to go to college, and the other just turned 15. When these little female charges popped out of their mommy’s belly several years ago, I felt this thing called “responsibility” hit me like a nun chuck regarding their upbringing.

I...I don't even know where to begin with this batshit paragraph. Should I focus on "little female charges"? Or the disturbingly cutesy "mommy's belly"? Or how Doug thinks 18 is several years? Or the bizarre spelling of 'nunchaku'? Or just the overall clumsiness of the whole last sentence? I wish he'd get back to making fun of niggers, this is just too much.

I didn’t sluff off my role in their lives onto my wife, my church, government schools, day care, a nanny, other relatives, TV, Sesame Street, or “the village” to fill my boots.

The word is "slough", Doug. How do you know "dasypygal" and not this? Anyway, none of that should get in the way of his important point, which is that if you accept the help of others in raising your child, you are a pussy and a loser and probably a communist.

I, along with my lovely wife, got them here, and dammit, it’s our job—especially my job as Alpha male of the Giles castle—to set them up internally and externally for greatness.

I'm pretty sure that Doug doesn't use phrases like "Alpha male of the Giles castle" ironically. Also, how do you set someone up externally for greatness? Buy them a hat that says I AM GREAT?

Living in Miami I knew that I would have to pony up and be a major player in their lives if they were going to escape being part of the local teen fart cloud; I would have to instill principles in them in order to keep them from teenage wasteland.

Jesus, Doug, do you fingerbang your wife with the fingers that type "teen fart cloud"? Also, I'm not sure if you're aware of this, but even if you don't live in Miami, it's pretty common knowledge that teenagers get up to no good.

In other words, I’m going to have to be a dad in the traditional sense of the word. Isn’t that weird?

I guess it would be, if I had any idea what you were talking about.

Having been pretty successful, heretofore, with the upbringing of my righteous and rowdy girls, here and now I will unveil my secret recipe for raising my zesty señoritas.


1. Teach Them How to Fight.

That's lesson #1! The first one! Teach them how to fight.

2. Teach Them How to Shoot Guns.

Lesson #2! The second priority! Make sure they're armed.

3. Teach Them How Sense BS.

Maybe even how to sense BS.

4. Teach Them How to Rebel.

But, you know, not too much. You don't want them to rebel against, say, you. Or Christianity. I mean, one assumes that the topless sorority sisters in the Girls Gone Wild videos are rebelling, too, right?

5. Teach Them How to Be Classy (That’s mostly my wife’s job.)

And man, nothing spells classy like a brawling, rebellious, gun-toting rowdy from Miami.

6. Teach Them to Despise Anti-Intellectualism.

Wait, what? Doug Giles is the biggest anti-intellectual I can think of. Does he mean intellectualism? Or does he mean 'espouse' instead of 'despise'?

7. Teach Them to Be Visionaries.

As long as they remain fundamentalist Christian conservative visionaries.

8. Teach Them How to Party.

Ha ha, MAAAAAN DOUG GILES! Hey, girls, Daddy's gonna teach you to paaaaaaaarty! As long as you never dress slutty or get naked or go with boys or drink or dance around like an idiot or listen to popular music. SOUNDS LIKE FUN, DOESN'T IT?

9. Teach Them the Value of Hard Work.

No one knows how to party like a Puritan.

10. Teach Them the Importance of Traditional Convictions.

Which, one would think, is incompatible with being a rebellious visionary, but what do I know? I don't have children. Note that not on the list of how to raise good daughters are "teach them to be decent human beings", "tell them you will support them no matter what they do", and "emphasize intelligence and education".

Here’s numero uno on my to-do list for raising girls that pimps and thugs will hate:

"Pimps and thugs", eh? What do you mean by that, Doug? I can't see through your veiled language.

Teach Them How to Fight. With etiquette having flown out the window a solid 20 years ago and our neighborhoods now seeing perverts and pedophiles a plenty, young and old men are now extremely embolden to be groping, brutish and offensive horn dogs.

"Aplenty". "Emboldened". For someone who despises anti-intellectualism, Doug has scorn for copy editors. And, I mean, I'm all for teaching girls to fight -- I'm a tireless advocate for it, in fact. But doesn't making learning to fight the #1 priority for a girls' education put the burden on her? Doesn't it sort of send the message that society is fucked and men are all vicious sexual predators and there's nothing we can do about it, so you might as well learn to fight or you deserve whatever you get? Anyway, it's good to know that 1986 was the year etiquette flew out the window.

Since I would never ever want my darlings to be at the mercy of one these palm pilots, I have made certain that my girls know how to severely disable a bad guy and, if need be, kill him.

Keep talkin' tough, Doug. Real threats don't speak.

Not even out of their teens, both my daughters are Gracie Jui Jitsu assistant instructors and have extensive training with knives and guns, both in using and removing them from idiots who might have to die in order to learn something.

Okay, way to close it out, big man! I realize this whole schtick is motivated from a my-girls-know-how-to-protect-themselves viewpoint, which is admirable, but this paragraph makes him sound less like a caring parent than a dangerous sociopath. I can't wait for the next column where he explains the rest of his dipshit rules for keeping blacks away from his daughters!
anyone home?

Monday Monday! That's my no fun day!

Okay, so it's still not funny. At least it's not about what a pathetic loser I am. Well, not directly about that, anyway.

Poll #835246 Are you ready for some pollball?

Amish school shooting.

Who has a grudge against the Amish?
I mean, seriously, yeah, they have funny beards and all, but they never hurt anyone.
And, of course, the wall-to-wall press coverage of each school shooting just tips off psychopaths exactly what they need to do for maximum PR.
It's really a pity that the school didn't have a better security system, but, you know, Amish.
Hey, anything new on Iraq?

Space tourist.

Why on earth would she say that space smells like a burnt almond cookie?
Doesn't she mean the space STATION smells like a burnt almond cookie?
Because, you know, space is empty. It has no smell.
Plus if you were in space, you would die within seconds, and wouldn't smell anything anyway.
And, for that matter, who knows what burnt almond cookies smell like?
At least it's better than the story about her losing her lip gloss.
What about Afghanistan? Anything new there?

Condi Rice: no memory of CIA warning on al-Q'aeda.

Okay, I know she's busy and all, but still.
I mean, that seems like the sort of thing you'd remember.
Is...is she just calling George Tenet a liar? Because you'd think she'd just come out and say that.
Especially considering how her boss screwed the pooch on the PDB about bin-Laden.
Really, you'd think the director of national security would have something better than "Maybe, maybe not, I don't remember."
I know I'd get my ass fired for an excuse like that.
But then again, I don't work for George W. Bush.
Does North Korea still have nuclear missiles? We're doing something on that, right?

Using pink as the official color of Breast Cancer Awareness Month.

Kinda ucky.
I'm not sure, but at least now I am "aware" of breast cancer.
Breast what awhatness what?
Titty! Whoooooooooo


I identify with Nathan and Peter Petrelli, the Floating Loser Brothers.
I am most like Hiro Nakamura, the Japanese Time Nerd.
I think of myself as a Niki Sanders, Porn Mom type.
I'm more of a Isaac Mendez, Junkie of the Future.
My friends all tell me that I have a lot in common with Claire Bennet, Indestructible Cheerleader.
I feel a close kinship with D.L. Hawkins, a.k.a. Kitty Pryde in "Oz".
I am the spirit sibling of Matt Parkman, Telepathic Police Nebbish.
Could I be any more like Mohinder Suresh, Cab-Driving Genius?
Really, I am more like the horn-rimmed glasses dude, because I would like to dissect all these shitheads.
I'm not sure, but I know I won't be watching again tonight.
I'm not sure, but I know I'll be watching again tonight.
I don't even know what you're talking about.
This is the most pathetic hero team ever. They could get stomped by the Southern Knights, or the Detroit JLA, or the Great Lakes Avengers.
I prefer to call them "subs", "hoagies", or "grinders".