On Topic A With Arianna Huffington and the Adorable Theo Spielberg

Henry the Intern, as usual, puts us to shame with his trenchant analysis of Topic A. Check him out, if you haven't already. The Corsair would like to amplify on a comment Our Hendry made:

"(Theo) Spielberg, 15 (the adorable son of Steven Spielberg), was the representative for the youth vote. Is CNBC going for the Nickelodeon crowd? Anyone --intern Chris Schwarz!-- would have been better. Spielberg said he wants politicians to have charisma so young people know 'who and what they are voting for.' Franken had advice for kids like Theo: 'Grow up. . . You're not necessarily going to vote for someone who is the most charismatic.' Theo's other point was candidates should pick a few issues important to young voters and act 'very supportingly.' Franken: 'Such as?' Theo suggested the war, the draft, Social Security, and Medicare. Franken won with his eyes closed."

Yeah, yeah, yeah: Franken won the exchange, but how could he have not? Al Franken was probably debating politics ferociously as a hypocritical Harvard liberal while the adorable Theo was being born. And while Theo Spielberg was eating strained carrots and peas, Franken was writing for Saturday Night Live, being an ass as to all accounts, and making enemies.

After Theo Spielberg made the comment that kids would be supporting of candidates who were charismatic (i.e. passionate) about Social Security and Medicare, Franken, rather creepily, rhetorically cornered Theo, archly asking something to the effect of -- so, kids your age care about Social Security and Medicare? To which the confident with a confidence of being a super rich and bright kid on the top of the Hollywood food chain, Theo countered, saying basically, well, not now, they don't, but if kids think in terms of their future and not on immediate goals, then yes, they might care.

Good going Theo, The Corsair loves you, baby pop.

What is it with Al Franken? What makes him such a dick? The Corsair might venture to say it was Harvard, but fellow prick Eric Alterman went to Cornell. Rather, The Corsair thinks that it may be wrestling. Amateur wrestling, at a formative period in a young pubescent boys life, tends to make them assholes, quick to start argument, combative when they need not be (for further consideration, see punk Defense Secretary/ rassler Donald Rumsfeld and prick author/ wrestler John Irving).

A recent New York Times magazine profile sums it up, at the height of the Democratic primaries:

"Onstage, Martin Sheen speaks first, then Dean's demure wife, then the suddenly embattled former governor of Vermont himself. Sometime after Dean begins taking questions from the audience, a manic-looking heckler starts to heckle, accusing Dean of 'covering up for Dick Cheney.' He gets louder. A couple of spindly members of Dean's security team approach him uncertainly; he swings his arms and keeps shouting. It goes on for several minutes and seems to be veering toward actual violence. Dean, the media, the members of the audience: nobody knows what to do."

Oh, but our man Franken does, does he ever (wicked Rumsfeldian gleam in eyes):

"At this moment Franken turns, cocks his head slightly, gives that well-known magnified, tortoise-shell-framed gaze and says: 'I think the two of us can get him out. You wanna do it?' After a pause that is meant to be emphatic, I say, 'No.' But it's too late: he's off, in rumpled jeans and a big down jacket, plowing up the aisle."

Al Franken's old school like that. When he cocked his head you just knew: it was on like Gray Poupon. The Corsair imagines the Harvard educated simian, rumpled jeans and big brown jacket ruffling in the wind, the accoustical sounds of Six Million Dollar Man bionic sound effects stacattoing in the background (da-da-da-da-da ...) as Franken-in-slow-motion-bolt approaches said interrupter, head low and spectacles fogged in anticipation of crunk:

"By this time there is a confused scrum around the heckler, who is holding his ground and still ranting. Franken hits the floor, wedges himself among a couple dozen legs and puts the man in a wrestling hold, grabbing him at the knees."

Oof! One can almost buckle at the beauty of the writing at this New York Times sports section style commentary, like that unfortunate freak, tumbling down the slippery slope into Prose Heaven. Oh, tell us more:

"That destabilizes him, and others now quickly push him down the aisle and out the side door of the theater."

Oh Al, destabilize the GOP; destabilize!:

"Franken gets up, looking dazed; his glasses are snapped in two. He's quickly swarmed by confused but excited reporters who want to know, like, what was he doing?"

Blame it on Wrestling; Theo Spielberg rocks. Kate Capshaw and Stevie Hollywood did a good job instilling confidence in their adopted son, enough to hold their ground with fatuous dicks like Al Franken, who cannot seem to distinguish between combating Rush Limbaugh, and chatting with a 15 year old on his first Tv appearance.

Blame it on amateur wrestling.