GLENN: So I thought, you know, since the comedy show is tonight in movie theatres all across the country, I thought we could do a review of the reviewers. For instance, the review of the Vanity Fair review, see if I could just do the same thing that they do to me and to you, by giving them the backhanded compliments. And I’m going to be fair. I want you to know I’m going to be very, very fair, Vanity. So here’s my review of the review. Who’s the most handsome man on the planet? Read one of the excising news morsels on the cover of Vanity Fair magazine, the kind that are supposed to lure me in reading further inside. The new girls of summer was another irresistible tease. Whatever you think of Vanity Fair, a cesspool of pointless gossip, a tree murdering outlet for the lame opinions of the artsy tree hugging liberals, a good, clean, fun, somewhat informative page turner, God help us but most don’t think of Vanity Fair as a magazine that would give a positive or even fair review to common sense in any form, nor would they would even understand it with all those handsome men and summer girls distracting them. I’ve been fascinated with Vanity Fair ever since they scooped the world and got the first pictures of TomKat’s baby. Before that I thought vanity was just another gossip rag with a babe on the cover, a poor man’s Cosmo, if you will, without the intellectual might of Cosmo. Despite my concerns that Vanity’s review of my show would be just another liberal hit piece, yet another boring attempt at liberal blogger stardom, I went into the review of this review with an open mind. I would only judge the quality of the reviewer’s review, nothing else.
First I had to get a copy of Vanity Fair. I made sure to go to the most redneck store in Oklahoma just to see what kind of universal appeal Vanity Fair has because, remember, I’m being open minded. The magazine rack was full of Vanity Fair magazines. It looked as if they hadn’t even sold one at this bait and tackle shop. When I asked the shop keeper, he confirmed it. He said, "Why would anyone read that garbage. Who cares what Lindsay Lohan had for breakfast." Well, after I open mindedly bought the magazine, I realized the cover may as well have read "26 Ways to Please Your Man and One Way to Waste Your Money." One of the most important qualities of a legitimate magazine is that they have a front, back and cover page and some pages in the middle. Well, Vanity Fair has all of those things. And there’s some endearing, there’s something endearing in the stories, the world’s most available heir and heiresses, Johnny Depp’s past appearances in Vanity Fair and inside the Vanity Fair’s Oscar party all completely unbelievably irrelevant stories that mean absolutely nothing to anything, yet all in one magazine, endearing. The review started with a Lars von Trier reference, I love Lars, especially this time of the year, I mean, who doesn’t. But in the end it was apparent that the reviewer was Lars Von Trying Too Hard, you know, exempting to impress his friends with random references of random Dutch filmmakers many would wonder if he was being pretentious enough to testify a Wilder’s nationwide banning. And yet that wasn’t the end of the self important wordiness as this reviewer used his F7 Shift Microsoft Word thesaurus to spell out the word stentorian like he had ever been comfortably using that in a sentence before. I mean, who’s been listening to Fiona Apple? You have, yes. But regardless of how fitfully cryptically true it was, a cunning way to condescend, it was not. It was borderline criminal how far he had gone beyond the Rubicon of a fodderal. Well, I have no idea what I just said but neither did the reviewer.
Then the review recited liberal blog criticisms for six excruciatingly long paragraphs before finally getting to the actual review of the show. Now, I’m not a professional reviewer, only a professional reviewer of reviewers, but this type of writing could be the reason why no one is buying Vanity Fair magazine. Oh, they were apparently displeased, when they went to the show, they were displeased that I poked fun at Henry Waxman’s nose. This is because an intelligent liberal never, ever stooped to making fun of someone’s appearance. For example, Al Franklin who in this same review that I reviewed was praised as a satirist with a will for real activism. Al Franken, he would never write a book entitled Rush Limbaugh is a Big Fat Idiot, would he? I suppose the difference is conservatives who make fun of others’ appearances aren’t generally rewarded with Senate seats. Franken, however, like the person the reviewer was reviewing, I had actually heard of Al Franken before, unlike the reviewer that the reviewer of reviewers was reviewing. However, this reviewer, in this review, was also referred to the subject of the review as having an overstuffed neck. So in other words, Mr. Beck had an overstuffed neck. Completely true, yes. But it almost seems like some sort of a nasty shot at someone’s appearance, doesn’t it?
Well, it wasn’t until I reached the bottom of the page and clicked down, you know, on that arrow there that I realized there was more of this review. That’s actually when I yelled out, "You’ve got to be kidding me!" Neither Johnny Depp, nor any of the new girls of summer answered.
Wait a minute, the guy yelling out, that wasn’t from Vanity Fair. That was the New York Times. That was another review that I reviewed, but we’ll review those later.