Conservatives flock to fear-mongering commentator
By: Matt Blickenstaff
Issue date: 4/2/09 Section: Opinion/Editorial
By all accounts,
it's a beautiful day.
The magnolias and
dogwoods are in
full bloom, birds
sing carelessly in
the budding canopy,
and the sun is shining,
warming the
air. Spring is here,
the world is reborn,
but I can't shake the
creeping doom lingering
on the periphery.
It's not the ICBM perched on the Korean
Peninsula, or the rising ocean levels
that have me full of dread - it's the
paranoid survivalist propaganda spewing
from my radio and television.
Glenn Beck is a rising star at the Fox
News Channel and a nationally syndicated
talk radio host.
He's charismatic, entertaining and
completely, batshit crazy.
His appeal is gravitational. Whenever
National Public Radio starts delving
into the forgotten art of needlepoint
or Garrison Keillor waxes nostalgic
about Lake Wobegon on 'A Prairie
Home Companion' I can't resist. I flip
my radio dial from 90.7 to 97.1, the local
Fox News affiliate. Nine times out of
ten, Beck's there to scare the living crap
out of me.
I can deal with Sean Hannity and
Rush Limbaugh. They're conservative
hacks and that's fine. Their powers end
in the echo chamber. But Beck is a new
breed. Sure, he's conservative like all the
rest, but he possesses other qualities
that, frankly, terrify me - he's delusional,
paranoid and popular.
Beck discusses the usual, day-in,
day-out, political minutia, but his spin
is disturbingly apocalyptic. He speaks of
the United Nations as if it is some omniscient
superpower, poised to invade
America with blue-helmeted storm
troopers. He conjures the specter of
Nazi Germany, the New World Order
and the Antichrist, when discussing
farm bills and stimulus packages. His
show is a cavalcade of wing nut politicians
and quack authors, brought forth
to confirm his cataclysmic prophecies.
"The truth is that they don't surround
us at all," Beck said. "We surround
it's a beautiful day.
The magnolias and
dogwoods are in
full bloom, birds
sing carelessly in
the budding canopy,
and the sun is shining,
warming the
air. Spring is here,
the world is reborn,
but I can't shake the
creeping doom lingering
on the periphery.
It's not the ICBM perched on the Korean
Peninsula, or the rising ocean levels
that have me full of dread - it's the
paranoid survivalist propaganda spewing
from my radio and television.
Glenn Beck is a rising star at the Fox
News Channel and a nationally syndicated
talk radio host.
He's charismatic, entertaining and
completely, batshit crazy.
His appeal is gravitational. Whenever
National Public Radio starts delving
into the forgotten art of needlepoint
or Garrison Keillor waxes nostalgic
about Lake Wobegon on 'A Prairie
Home Companion' I can't resist. I flip
my radio dial from 90.7 to 97.1, the local
Fox News affiliate. Nine times out of
ten, Beck's there to scare the living crap
out of me.
I can deal with Sean Hannity and
Rush Limbaugh. They're conservative
hacks and that's fine. Their powers end
in the echo chamber. But Beck is a new
breed. Sure, he's conservative like all the
rest, but he possesses other qualities
that, frankly, terrify me - he's delusional,
paranoid and popular.
Beck discusses the usual, day-in,
day-out, political minutia, but his spin
is disturbingly apocalyptic. He speaks of
the United Nations as if it is some omniscient
superpower, poised to invade
America with blue-helmeted storm
troopers. He conjures the specter of
Nazi Germany, the New World Order
and the Antichrist, when discussing
farm bills and stimulus packages. His
show is a cavalcade of wing nut politicians
and quack authors, brought forth
to confirm his cataclysmic prophecies.
"The truth is that they don't surround
us at all," Beck said. "We surround
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