Just when I thought no one on this planet could be dumber than Snooki, along comes some fucking brainless Aspen socialite named Lynda Resnick to lower the bar another few feet into the subterranean muck.
Writing for HuffPo (where else?), this blitheringly inane, name dropping fuckwit – clearly one of the greedhead turds lamented by Hunter S. so many years ago for ruining Aspen – proceeds to expose herself as follows:
Every year, Stewart and I open our home to the speakers who appear at the Aspen Ideas Festival, an event thrown by the Aspen Institute as a forum for the world’s thought leaders to speak on global issues. At our dinner, I always give a little speech outlining what I have learned from the sessions I attended.
Thought leaders? The World’s THOUGHT LEADERS?
What the fuck is a thought leader? Is that a measure of quantity or quality? Perhaps we’ll find out.
Each speaker brings immense light to the previously shuttered perspective of Ms. Resnick. She marvels, she rejoices, she longs…she compares her relative value in goats and is flattered that her husband “lovingly whispered” that she’s worth 50 (10 more than a Pakistani girl with a high school education!)
And who are these World Leaders of Thought that so inspire? Get your air sickness bags ready: Barbra Streisand, Arianna Huffington (surprise!), and Rick Warren – yeah, PASTOR Rick Warren. Rick Warren is one of The WORLD’S THOUGHT LEADERS! Excuse me…I need another bag.
Another quote from the almost unreadable puke fest of an article:
That Narcissus of negativity, Niall Ferguson, likened our collapse to the fall of the Roman Empire, warning that it will be much quicker. Everyone better learn how to eat with chopsticks — and fast.
Narcissus of negativity? I guess it would be gauche to dig up the long dead Nattering Nabobs…and, heaven knows, tossing in references to mythological figures makes one appear so well read. Nice touch with the xenophobic, borderline racist tagline, too. Chopsticks! What an ignorant, pedestrian, hillbilly rube, this Resnick twat.
Who else impressed Dame Resnick sufficiently to make it into her “little speech”?
Tom Friedman, whose inability to stick with a single metaphor through an entire cookie is just the way the dog bounces. The only mystery greater than what the fuck he might be writing about is how he manages to keep his gig alive.
The fucking torturous article is littered throughout with little inside jokes – tips of our lady’s curtsy – that are utterly and completely fucking meaningless to anyone who wasn’t there, and if that weren’t bad enough, each one is jammed up and fluffed out with some sort of arcane blowjoby reference designed to make Resnick seem at once both clever and well educated. The effort is a giveaway:
But it wasn’t all that grim. There were wonderful revelations: Did you know that the elegant David Bradley was really a Russian spy? I am sure we would get a lot in a swap for David, but can I be your Mata Hari?
Can I be your Mata Hari? WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT EVEN MEAN?
How many goats does THAT cost?
Resnick goes on, ad nauseum, expressing her every fleeting emotion at the genius on display at her little dinner for the WORLD’S THOUGHT LEADERS.
She finds people working for gay marriage rights “downright heartwarming.” Jeffrey Rosen (Dahlia Lithwick was busy) said the USSC is irrelevant to the future of free speech, and Biz Stone hopes that Twitter will be seen “…not as a triumph of technology but as a triumph of humanity.”
Twitter. A triumph of humanity. Wrap your fucking head around THAT.
In lame ass attempts, one supposes, at humour, Resnick reveals her stunning ignorance of science and a deep disinterest in learning anything that doesn’t either jive with the general tone of her social peers or provide an opportunity for what passes for wit in her anything but agile imagination.
Juan Enriquez thrilled us with the news that they can now make a biodegradable plastic by programming bacteria. (I can’t wait to put that in an ad for FIJI Water.) He went on to reveal that there hasn’t been one person who has died from eating a genetically modified food. I guess he doesn’t mind about growing a third nostril?
DOES Lynda Resnick manage the creative team for FIJI Water?
What the FUCK is FIJI Water? Does the idea of scientific advances making plastic less of a landfill problem offend her? Or is she unaware of the massive infestation of uncountable strains of bacteria that live inside her – you know, besides the ones she picked up gobbling all that cock at her dinner. AND yet another oh-so-witty punchline! A THIRD NOSTRIL! ROFL! Oh, Lynda…really! You are SO clever (you vapid, insufferable cunt).
Laurene Powell said that IQ and talent are distributed across the population evenly, but opportunity is not. If we can find a way to bridge the great divide in our country, I believe we have hope. Say, that might make a good political slogan!
Do you see? Reading this article is like a race to the most brainless, stunningly vapid, insistently ignorant comment possible. No fact, no tautology, no plainly obvious statement spoken by anyone is not worthy of fawning praise, which is not even real praise but merely the set-up for yet another foray into the damp, moldy cum towel Lynda Resnick calls a sense of humor.
She saves the fucking capper – the perfect bullet to the brain of any thinking person – for the big finale:
But it was my hero, David Brooks — who, by the way, makes me cry every time I hear him speak — who gave me the most inspiration for our future. David related a story about a young Mexican-Chinese girl who grew up in a very troubled household, yet managed to create a great life for herself because of her innate mental disposition. It is all about resiliency, isn’t it? And above all, America is a resilient country. After all, most of us survived a whole season of Jersey Shore.
David Fucking Brooks. The most vapid, thoughtless, prevaricating, egg-brained, shallow, twisted, know-nothing fuckwit pretend journalist in the entire history of the written word makes Lynda Resnick cry.
Talk about accurately calibrating the Intellectometer! Anyone who thinks David Fucking Brooks has anything of any value to add to any conversation about any fucking thing ought not be hosting dinners – they’re too goddamn stupid to be trusted not to confuse the food with the flatware.
“INNATE mental disposition”?
Did Brooks say that, or is that Lynda playing with her thesaurus and choosing to presume nature over nurture? They’re both stupid enough to say something like that, and it makes no fucking difference – it’s one of those Imbecile meets Moron situations.
And, even despite her tears, Lynda can STILL pull off another zinger!
(Sob! Oh, David! That anecdote is SO moving! SOB! SNUFFLE! It reminds me of The Jersey Shore! ZING! POW!)
The gobbling brainless blowjob of an article concludes with an invitation to follow Lynda Resnick on Twitter. One can only imagine what she is capable of when restricted to 140 characters.
Lynda Resnick. Before today I has no idea who the fuck she was. How I long for the past.
UPDATE: Lynda Resnick OWNS “FIJI Water”. So, apparently she CAN make biodegradable plastic bottles a feature of her marketing campaign.
Apparently, she has the magical ability to bottle water that comes out of a fucking TAP for free, slap an exotic name on the bottle (I know whenever I think of Fiji, the first thing I think of is pure, refreshing water), and find a sufficient number of morons willing to pay about the price per gallon of gasoline to drink it. This makes her a fucking marketing genius, whose book is blurbed by the aforementioned James Dobson, as well as that scion of truth and fairness Rupert Murdoch.
Clearly, I have stumbled into a nest of entitled privilege and ginned up facade that can not possibly ever come to grips with the idea that she’s not only NOT a fucking genius, but in reality dumber than a rotten stump. Oh well…at least she’s still worth 50 goats.
Fucking FIJI Water. Go figure.