Bulwer-Lytton Awards, Abject Wankery Division

Thers discovers more high comedy from Ben “CTRL-C CTRL-V” Domenech, whose abysmal prose makes for a strong case that he should really just go back to ripping of P.J. O’Rourke. Best I can fathom from reading this interminable self-gropery, the Box Turtle is supporting McCain because he’s like Don Quixote, Abe Simpson and Henry VIII rolled into one, and because McCain had his photo taken with Ronald Reagan a few times, and because — I dunno, something about Bob Dole and peanut butter — and then there’s always Jesus.

They will say the [Reagan] coalition is dead — but we will know better. We know it only sleeps. We will cast our votes knowing that the day will come, four years from now, when a new leader, one who knows what the shining city truly means, stands in front of the fresh-dug tomb, and calls into the blackness, as if to Lazarus — “Come out!”

And when we hear it, we will rise from out of our stupor, dust cobwebs from our arms, stumble to the door, our eyes blinking in the sunlight . . . and we will know our day has come.

Uh, Ben? Best I can recall, Lazarus was not “only” sleeping. He was, you know, actually dead.

I realize that describing Ben Domenech as a “writer” is like describing Maureen Dowd as a “human,” but if awards were being handed out for the worst prose in the blogosphere, it would be hard to deny the boy his due.